Bad Russian 02.04 ivy

by May Ball, Alice

  If he tries anything stupid like he did the last time I opened his box, I might just break his neck out of sheer impatience. He’s a captive, so I suppose that I should respect him for trying to escape. It’s hard not to despise a man in his position when he hasn’t bothered to learn any proper combat skills.

  His attempt was pathetic. And I can’t forget the sight of him with his hand on Saskia’s throat. I could kill him for that alone.

  I needn’t have worried about him. He is still out cold. I carry him down the cement steps into the cell. Sling him on the cot. Gently enough. It’s better than he deserves. I take out the medical kit. Check his blood pressure, heart rate, temperature. He’s fine.

  For a holding cell, it’s pretty cozy. There’s a table, with chairs. All fixed to the floor with sunken bolts. Cuffs are chained to the underside of the table, in case there’s a need of restraint. There’s a shower and WC off the room.

  I’ve been kept in worse places.

  After I put a plastic bottle of cold water on the table for him, I make all of the security checks before I lock him in. I run the checks from the list that I have on a phone and I do them twice.

  He should come to in half an hour or so. He’ll be okay with the water, and I’ll leave him some time to reflect on the choices he’s made. There are concealed cameras so I can check on him.

  I’m due to fly him to Russia tonight. But that plan will have to change.

  Now, after I test the lock on the cell door, I bound back up to Saskia in the kitchen. She’s still exactly where I left her.

  “He’s a prisoner down there, right?”

  “He’s safe.”

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  “I’m supposed to take him back to Moscow.”

  “Oh.”

  “Right now, in fact.”

  “So why aren’t you?”

  “I would have to leave you.”

  “Doesn’t your mission come first?”

  “At any other time, yes. But not now. Now, there is something more important.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You.”

  “You could take me with you.”

  “You’d come?”

  “Sure. I think my bridges here are all burned. Much like Rhianna’s apartment is.”

  “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Why, is there a Mrs. Arkady?”

  “No. I’ve never even been romantically involved with a woman before.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I never saw the right woman. I had stopped even expecting to, to tell you the truth.”

  “So, how do you know?”

  “That you’re the woman for me? You know, I really can’t say. I still have no idea. I just feel it. In every part of me I feel it. If I had to tell you, I would have to say, ‘everything.’ Everything about you is part of the woman I’ve been waiting for. I didn’t even know it until I saw you, but you are just everything that I need.”

  “Supposing you aren’t what I need?”

  “I am.”

  “You seem very sure of yourself.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I wish I could be certain like you.”

  “You will. You just need to trust yourself.”

  And she steps toward me. I don’t know how I’ll hold back if she comes any nearer. I know that she isn’t ready. But I am. I’ve been ready since the first moment I saw her skirt stretched over her tummy and over her wonderful hips. She stands in front of me. Looking up. Her wet lips part.

  The warm softness of her breasts presses against my stomach. Her hands reach inside my coat. My flesh electrifies as she drags her nails down the front of my shirt. She’s stretching up to put her lips to mine. I’m still. Like a rock.

  I know that if I move, if I respond to her, it will be hard for me to resist her.

  I don’t want to resist. I want to clutch her soft flesh. Feel the weight of her breasts in my hands. Devour her nipples. Squeeze the fabulous cheeks of her ass. Run my hands over her throat, her breasts. Her thighs. Part the wet lips of her pussy. Her scent is calling to me now.

  How can I say that she isn’t ready?

  But that’s foolishness. I know that she isn’t. If I give in to her now, we will both be swept on the tide of lust. Yes, I want that. I want it so much my cock aches, burns and throbs for her. But if I give in now, she will never be really sure of her feelings for me. She will always carry a doubt.

  She’s a virgin. I know that she is. Her first time has to be with me, of course. Her every time has to be with me.

  But her first time must be perfect.

  She stretches to my lips. I want to pull my head back. But I can’t Her eyes flick up and down, over my face. She holds the back of my neck with one hand. Pulls up her skirt with the other. Her hot, wet mound grinds against my thigh. She rolls her pussy up and down the ridge of my vibrating pole.

  One foot lifts. She curls her leg around mine. She shakes her shoulders and the soft weight of her breasts bubbles and ripples. Her hard nipples press through her bra and shirt. They scrape against me.

  I can’t hold back from this any longer.

  I take hold of her. I aim for her waist but at the same time, she stretches up on tiptoe. I grab handfuls of her ass instead. Her skirt is hiked up so high, her ass is bare except for her thin, slate-blue panties.

  With all the determination I can raise, I tell her, “You’re not ready.”

  Her heat pulses against my stomach, and her lips press on mine.

  She tells me, “Prove it.”

  That’s more than I can take.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her

  He growls as his hands sweep down, around and up, between my legs. My thighs part as he grabs my ass, cradling me and lifting me off the floor.

  He turns to put my back against the wall and he swings me up until my thighs are over his shoulders. I grab hold of his head. My fingers lace into his hair. I can’t believe what’s about to happen.

  My head is almost against the ceiling of the kitchen. I look down and see the beautiful Russian’s face is moving toward my tender, quivering wetness. I never let a man there before. I am so not ready. And I want this so much.

  His breath is hot between my thighs.

  I breathe his name. His lips press against my soaking panties. My thighs close on the sides of his head. He breathes deep through his nose. I feel the strength of his lips as they encircle my hood and press it back. My little clit is pulled out, humming against the inside of my wet panties.

  The tip of his tongue traces it. I shudder from my core as he begins to suck. As my insides turn to an explosion of glitter dust, his tongue flicks teasingly at my bean. I grip his hair and my thighs shake as I crumple over his head.

  I rock my hips to get more into his face. His tongue snakes in through the side and his strong wetness meets my soft need. I shake through the whole of my body as my fingers and toes clench.

  With one hand he opens me up. His fingers slip inside me. Moving. First two, then three. Then all four. I contract so hard I wonder if I’ll crush his hand but his knuckles are like rocks as they scrape and shove inside me. His tongue and his lips stay working on my clit and slip from time to time around my lips.

  Something, a sound rips out of my throat. Half a cry and half an insane laugh. My muscles tingle in flutters. His fingers open and he jabs harder. Faster.

  Showers of hot and cold sparks explode inside me. As I fall over his head again, the wiriness of his hair between my breasts tips me over.

  My pussy walls tighten and flex. The scent of my heat and wetness makes me dizzy. Inside I burst in a rolling thunder of firecrackers.

  My hips push and rock into his mouth and I don’t even care if it suffocates him. I haven’t a thought, only a long, half melodic moan, stretching through all of me and clinging tight around him.

  I’m shocked to hear my voice. Low and grating. “Give me your cock.”


  His head shakes, and he drives his tongue deeper into me.

  “Give me your cock, you fucker.”

  My heels bang against his back. He walks, with me on his shoulders, into another room. The lounge has two long couches. He leans to forward lay me down on one of them.

  I’m still shaking and unprepared for the deep sense of loss from having his mouth come away from my pussy.

  His lips peel back. His gleaming white teeth are divinely evil in the first smile I have seen this man make.

  “You will be ready soon,” he says with a relish. “I know it.”

  I know it, too. I leap at his belt. The buckle doesn’t give up easily. I’m frantic because I know he will try to stop me. He backs away but I don’t let go. The belt comes open.

  There isn’t time to fuck with clasps and buttons. I yank the two sides of his pants open. Some fabric tears and couple of buttons spin past my ear.

  He grips my wrists.

  His voice is hard. Harsh. “Believe me. I want you, too.”

  My voice is a snarl. “Let me hold it. Let me suck it.”

  And then it’s like he’s two men. The top of him is telling me something about why we need to wait. I don’t know what. I’m really not listening.

  His bottom half, on the business end, he hauls out a thick, rigid shaft of flesh. A terrifying snake bounces in front of my face. Before I have time to think about it, he grabs my chin and pulls me to him. His hot bulb is right in front of my lips.

  My mouth stretches open. I don’t believe it’s going to fit. Inside I’m as much afraid as I am excited. I’ve never even been this close to a cock before. And I never even imagined one could be that big. I don’t know that I can take the ridges of that great shaft into my mouth.

  But I stretch my lips wide and dive on it. It’s so hard, but inside it zings with pulses. The heavy shaft twitches. It’s really alive. Like it’s a creature itself. A beast with a will of its own.

  The dark taste is intoxicating. Sinful. The smoky tang swirls to fill the inside of my mouth. My breath flutters as I slide my lips along the length of him. The ridges of the underside press down on my tongue. The head drives along the roof of my mouth. He’s got to the back of my tongue. And I’ve hardly got half of him in.

  When he moans my name, the vibration jangles like a current inside my mouth.

  I know about the gag reaction. On drunken evenings in the college dorm, Rhianna insisted on teaching me how to swallow a long, hard cock. We used toys, bananas, all kinds of things. Nothing we played with was anything like the length of this monster.

  I know how to swallow, but I don’t know if I can do it with this. It’s so big. And so hot.

  I want to, though.

  “Saskia,” he grabs my hair, “You wanted it…”

  He’s right. I jam my head along his length. He fills my lips and my head tips back, but I feel him go over into my throat and start to stretch it.

  “Yes!” he shouts, “Suck it, Saskia. Take it all the way into your pretty, innocent little mouth.”

  ‘Innocent’? I’ll show him. My throat muscles pull and squeeze him and his pelvis tilts in. His shaft stiffens. Long, hard pulses run along the length of him and thick, salty cum splashes into my throat and sloshes to fill my mouth.

  As soon as I gulp him down, another hot bolt spurts into my neck. And again.

  I stay, fastened on his cock, sucking gently, teasing with my tongue. I want every last drop.

  I don’t know if I trust him now. Before, I knew that I didn’t, and now I can’t tell anymore. What I do I know is that I don’t want to lose him. And that scares me. I feel like I’ve been through two lifetimes of emotion with this man already, and I hardly know anything about him.

  But some of what I’m feeling is a lot like need, and I swore a long time ago that I would never need a man. I feel conflicted emotions. I want to fuck him, get it over and done with and get over him. And, at the same time, it feels like if I let myself get any closer to him, or even stay this close, then I won’t be able to be without him, not ever again.

  The thought of a man having that kind of power over me makes me afraid and angry at the same time.

  I turn away. As his cock pops out of my mouth, I hear him sigh with a sound of loss. Yeah, I think, Get over it.

  I feel the loss like an empty space inside me. I want him back. I want him inside me. Everywhere. I want to wrap myself around him. Stay with him, filling me. I know that I’m going to want him more. Need him more. I can’t handle the idea of depending on a man. Of having my world revolve around him.

  He’s reaching for me. I duck away. I feel him looking at me. I stand, straightening my clothes. I cut a sideways look to him and say, “I’m hungry. Can we go out?”

  If I didn’t know he was made of granite, I would say that he looked hurt.

  He goes to put on a black shirt and a pair of black jeans. They make his ass look magnificent. The belt has a heavy silver buckle. His suit coat over the top almost makes him look like a runway model.

  I say, “And, can we go in something that’s not that yellow cab?”

  He takes me in a Mercedes-Benz E-Class cabriolet. We drive about ten minutes in uncomfortable silence. He’s brought me to a quiet bar restaurant.

  Inside he instructs a server, “We want a nice table for two. In the back,” he points to the farthest corner. “And we have limited time. So give us your most attentive service.”

  The server is buxom and gorgeous. Her eyes widen and her lips part. She glows at the chance to give him attentive service. “Whatever you want, sir. Anything at all. I’ll be nearby. Let me show you to your table.”

  I’m surprised by an angry pang of jealously. This really is a night of firsts for me.

  I know now, the reason I never felt that sensation, that tang in the mouth and the crunch in the gut, is because I’ve never been with a man and cared about what he might do before or afterward.

  Then, I haven’t really been with men much at all, so I guess that’s to be expected.

  With Arkady, I really do care. It’s a bad feeling. And yet, somehow I like it. What is going on?

  He makes me think about my father. I haven’t thought about that deadbeat fucker in years. Why now? It’s like everything this man makes me think about. Every subject that comes into my head associated with this man seems to be a live rail.

  Daddy is just another thing I don’t want to think about.

  We order drinks and sandwiches.

  I asked for a bourbon, but Arkady tells me to have a vodka instead. “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” I tell him. Unsure.

  As Arkady tells her to be sure and bring the vodka in chilled glasses, the waitress bends low to take the order. Bats her eyelashes.