Russian Mobster's Secret (12 page)

“You’re such an ass,” Oksana muttered. She flounced over and gave Susan a quick hug. “If you need anything, you call. All right?”

“I will,” Susan assured her. “You’ll be the first person to know. I promise.”

Oksana finally left, and Kirill found himself alone with the mother of his child. “I was beginning to wonder if she would ever leave.”

“She does visit at least five days a week. But I think she’s starting to get the baby bug herself and it’s freaking her out. So the more she hangs out here, the more she can get her baby fix without having to do something horrible like find a guy, settle down, and actually get pregnant.”

“God forbid,” he said with mock seriousness.

She smiled down at their offspring who had already dozed off in his swing. “Yes. Totally.”

Kirill walked up behind Susan and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the back of her neck until he felt her shiver in response. “He’s asleep.”

“So he is,” she whispered. “And what does that mean?”

He walked her backwards until they had made it halfway down the hall to their bedroom. “That means it’s time for me to give you a little pleasure.”

“Is that right?” She wrinkled her nose at him. “You make it sound as if the pleasure is all mine.”

“No, baby, your pussy was made to give me pleasure.” Kirill pushed her shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside. “And right now I want you so badly I’m not sure I’m going to be able to last long enough to push inside that sweet body of yours.”

“Damn I love it when you talk like that. You make me so horny I think I’m going to die if you don’t touch me.”

Kirill liked that. He pressed his mouth to hers and took her lips in a demanding kiss. He thrust his tongue between her lips and felt her surrender completely. It was heady and arousing, and he never wanted to stop.

He put his palms on the skin of her abdomen and smoothed them over the silky texture of her body. Cupping her breasts, he broke away from their kiss and lowered his head to lick the creamy tops showing above her bra.

Her breasts were even more sensitive now that their son had been born, and the touch had her writhing against him in no time. Kirill pushed her backwards until she fell onto the mattress in their bedroom. Things had become hurried since the baby’s birth. Lovemaking happened in stolen moments while the baby was asleep, and he was desperate to be inside her.

Kirill ripped off his shirt and threw it behind him. Next, he unfastened his pants and shoved them over his hips. At one time he had always taken Susan from behind. It had seemed a way to keep a barrier between them. Now he always wanted to be facing her. He wanted to see her expression the moment he penetrated her with his cock.

First, though, he wanted her ready. He tugged at her fitted yoga pants and pulled them down her legs and off. Sinking down between her knees, he inhaled deeply of her feminine scent. Placing his hands on the inside of her thighs, Kirill spread Susan wide and gazed at the glorious sight. She was wet, pink, and glistening.

“I’m going to taste you, love,” he murmured. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

She made a tiny, desperate noise that dissolved into a moan when he lapped her pussy from the bottom of her opening to the hood of her clit. She pulsed beneath his touch. He gently let his tongue slip inside her and then dart back up to her clit to tease her relentlessly. He lapped and sucked until he felt her trembling and knew she was ready to come.

“Kirill!” she gasped.

The rocking motion of her orgasm made her hips buck and quiver. Kirill held tight and continued to taste her as she came undone. The sharp, tangy flavor of her intensified with each moan and pant until he was nearly intoxicated by the taste.

SUSAN WANTED KIRILL so badly she was nearly desperate with the need to feel his thick cock slide inside her body. She held her hands out, loving the moment that his fingers threaded with hers. She drew him up onto the bed. Tugging him closer, she reached between them and palmed the length of him.

He hissed at the contact. He was so hard and hot that she couldn’t resist giving him a little squeeze. The grunt of approval was followed by the sensation of his cock pressing against her opening. She moaned as he penetrated her slowly. The agonizing, incremental motion nearly drove her mad. Finally, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in deep.

Kirill muttered something in Russian. His hands were braced on either side of her, and he gazed down into her face as he began to move. She loved to see his expressions as he thrust in and out of her. The smooth advance and retreat left her feeling as though she were climbing a precipice and couldn’t wait to jump over.

She pressed her palms against the hard surface of his pectorals. She loved the feel of his power as he surged into her. Each stroke left her inching closer and closer to the moment when she would lose control and step over the edge. The muscles in his face grew taut. She traced each line, testing the scratchiness of his shadow beard with her fingertips before gently touching his lips.

He put his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her bottom off the bed. The new angle sent the shaft of his cock sliding against the sweet spot so very deep inside her body. She gasped with delight. Heat pooled at the base of her spine, and she gave a little whimper of excitement. Her arousal was reaching its peak. She felt the pressure of him against the hood of her clit. The tiny nubbin burned with pleasure, and she knew she was lost.

“Kirill,” she gasped. “I’m going to…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence before her orgasm took her away. Stars burst behind her eyelids as she soared so high she thought she might be able to touch the stars.

He growled and thrust hard. Her inner muscles were clenched tight around him, the friction almost unbearable. And then Kirill came in a flood of hot semen that filled her womb with his essence. He held his position, pushing against her cleft as he spilled every drop of himself into her body.

When the cataclysm was through, he rolled to the side and cuddled her close to his chest. “You blow my mind, Susan. Every. Single. Time.”

She gave a little laugh and shoved against his chest. “I’m glad to hear it. I would hate to think that having a baby together ruined our chemistry.”

“You think it’s just chemistry?” he asked softly.

She wrinkled her nose and stifled a yawn. “What? You prefer the term ‘biology?’”

“No, I think I prefer the term ‘fate.’”

“You think we are fated for one another?” she mused. “I suppose that might be true enough. There was certainly enough fate involved in getting us from casual sex to monogamy.”

“I like monogamy.” He sounded almost petulant.

“Kirill, what’s wrong?” Susan asked softly. “You’re acting emotional and moody. I’m starting to think you’ve taken a page or two out of Oksana’s book, and it’s freaking me out.”

“I want to marry you, Susan.”

She was briefly taken aback. “You never wanted to talk about marriage before.”

“I know.”

“So what changed your mind?” She couldn’t imagine where this sudden shift had come from. “I thought marriage was just a piece of paper, blah, blah, blah.”

“Perhaps that was being a little cynical on my part.” He sounded sheepish.

She nuzzled his chest, setting her teeth to his nipple and making him jump. “Oh, you think?”

“Hey now!” He rubbed the offended body part. “I can admit when I was a blockhead.”

“I would just like to know where the change came from,” she prodded gently. She pressed a kiss to his throat. “That’s all.”

“You are mine. The mother of my son, the woman I love, the one person who understands me better than anyone else in the world. Why would I not want to declare to the entire world that you belong to me and I belong to you?”

“Oh, Kirill,” she breathed. “That was beautiful.” His words touched something deep inside her heart. “I would be honored to be your wife.”

“Even though I am still the bad boy of the Orlov crime family?” he teased.

“Even though,” she agreed.

“This does not bother you about my job?” He sounded worried.

She thought for a moment, trying to figure out how she could explain herself and make him understand. “I’ve told you before that I’m not going to second guess you every moment. You chose your path, and it was your right. There are people who would say that the morality is obvious, but I think every career or job carries with it a question of morality. If anything, at least your mafia connections are honest about their dishonesty. Half the bankers I meet in my line of work are total slime bags who refuse to admit that they are, in fact, slime bags.”

“Then there is only one problem,” he said with mock severity.

She pulled back, gazing into his face and wondering what could possibly be wrong now.

Kirill raised an eyebrow, looking every inch the bad boy. “How are we ever going to keep Oksana from demanding that she plan the entire wedding?”

THE END

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Russian Mobster’s Obsession

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Russian Mobster’s Obsession

By: Bella Rose

All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

Chapter One

Katie inhaled the warm fresh air. It was good to be home. It was late spring and everything in the city was coming alive. She couldn’t help but think that this might be a chance for her to start over fresh, even though she was coming back to a place that hadn’t been home for nearly five years.

“Ready?” Katie held the Frisbee aloft, waving it in the air. Her Australian Shepard dog, Max, crouched low, his gaze locked on the prize. “Go get it!”

Katie threw the Frisbee as hard as she could. The dog sprinted after the toy, running so quickly that his legs seemed to be a blur. Max was the one good thing Katie had to show for the last five years. He was her companion, and probably the only male she would ever want in her life.

She looked around the park, taking in the peaceful scene. Children played on swings and hung on the jungle gym. Mothers sat together with strollers, chatting to pass the time. It was idyllic and it reminded Katie of growing up not far from there. She and her friends had come to this park often.

Max skidded to a stop in front of Katie, dropping the Frisbee and giving her a doggie grin. She patted his silky blue-and-white fur before bending down to pick up the toy. She went through the same ritual again. Max was wiggling with excitement by the time she flung the Frisbee with all her might.

A big gust of wind kicked up just as the Frisbee hit the zenith of its path across the open field. Max automatically changed his trajectory, but the new path took him far out of Katie’s sight.

“Max!” she called to her dog, but he was obviously determined to get the Frisbee, no matter where it was going.

Unable to see her dog anymore, Katie began to panic. She sprinted after him. Carefully navigating the uneven grass, she rounded a copse of trees and stopped short. Max was standing beside a tall, broad-shouldered man in jeans and a white T-shirt. The cotton stretched tight over the man’s biceps and chest. He had dark, unruly hair that hung nearly to his shoulders and a scar that bisected the right side of his mouth.

The man was holding the Frisbee in his hands as though he’d caught it. Looking around, the guy then squatted down next to her dog. He pawed Max’s fur, presumably looking for a collar. Katie licked her lips nervously. She didn’t like the idea of talking to some strange man standing next to an unmarked white van in a deserted parking lot near the back entrance of the park. But there was no way she was leaving Max behind.

“Excuse me!” Katie yelled, jogging toward the strange man. “Please leave my dog alone.”

“I nearly got smacked in the head with this.” The man waved the Frisbee in the air. “Then your furry friend here showed up.”

“Just give him his toy and he’ll come right back,” Katie assured the stranger.

The man stroked the silky hair on Max’s chest. “He’s a beautiful dog.”

“And he’s mine.” She wasn’t going to pull any punches here. If the guy tried to steal her dog, she was screaming bloody murder until someone called the cops. She pulled out her phone. “Please let him go, or I’m going to call the authorities.”

“There’s no need to do that, Katie,” the man said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Maybe it was the way he said her name, with a faint but still discernible Russian accent, but recognition hit hard and fast. Katie lifted her hand to her chest in surprise. “Viktor?”

“The one and the same,” he said with a smile.

Katie ventured closer. Just because it was Viktor didn’t mean he was safe to approach. Viktor had been dangerous at the best of times, and a disaster at the worst. He had broken her heart. Although she sometimes wondered if he even realized it.

“What are you doing here?” Katie asked hesitantly, getting close enough to see the details of his familiar face. The scar was new. She wondered how he’d come by it.