Maykl
Blyad’.
A surge of lust makes my fingers reflexively tighten at her throat.
“You’re confident.”
She nods and starts to lower to her knees, but her jaw catches at my immovable grip.
She wants to suck my cock. It’s a trick, obviously. Or a manipulation. Still, she’s a goddess with that moon-pale hair and the dark coral bow-tie lips. I want to fuck that pretty mouth if for no other reason than to get something honest out of her.
I know it’s the wrong move. It’s almost like I can sense the utter destruction this female will rain down on my life, but I also suspect the demise would be worth it. I release my hold on her neck and let her kneel in front of me.
She opens the button on my jeans and frees my erection.
I’m somewhat mollified to see her fingers tremble as she reaches to grip my length. She’s not as practiced at this as she pretends. And she is up to something.
She lifts my cock to trace the vein that runs on the underside, from base to tip.
I shudder at the pleasure of it. At my need for more.
I should put a stop to this. Grab her by the arms and haul her to her feet. Slap that pretty ass and tell her to stop her games.
But I’ve already allowed her to start. I might as well receive the pleasure that precedes whatever wicked destruction I’ve unleashed at her hands.
She takes the tip of my cock into her mouth and slides it in and out, teasing me. Torturing me.
I grip the back of her head and shove in deep. Remind her who’s in charge here.
She stiffens, but recovers quickly, hollowing her cheeks to suck hard as I pull back, then taking me deep toward the back of her throat when I press in again.
“You look so pretty with those lips around my cock,” I murmur.
I’m not usually much of a talkerdirty or otherwisebut something about this woman seems to remove all my filters. All my reason.
I caress her cheek with my thumb as my fingers at the back of her head urge her forward and back at a rhythm that has me sucking in my breath through flared nostrils. Relishing the sensation.
Maybe it’s because this is wrong. Because I know it’s a mistake. Maybe it’s because Kira is my own special Kryptonite. Whatever the reason, it is the best blowjob I’ve ever had. She was right. There’s something about seeing my little Valkyrie kneeling at my feet, her pale skin flushed with passion, her ice-blue eyes looking up at me for my reaction that unleashes a lust I didn’t even know I was capable of.
I shove deeper, hitting the back of her throat and gagging her with my cock. She struggles to take me. When her fingers tighten around the base of my cock, perhaps to control my movements, it only drives my need for her.
I know I’m toeing the line, or, maybe, I’ve already crossed into disrespect, and somehow, surprisingly, that’s what brings my control back. I pull out of her mouth, and in one smooth motion, haul her from her knees to my shoulder. I clap one heavy hand down on her perky ass as I carry her into my bedroom.
When I toss her on the bed, there’s a mixture of fear and excitement in the flush of her skin, the whites of her eyes. The way she watches me as I shuck my clothes. Her gaze travels over my hairy chest, taking in the tattoos that cover my right pectoral and shoulder.
She may have been offering the blowjob as a transaction, but I’m all in now. Ready to reciprocate. Dying to see how she looks in the throes of an orgasm.
I climb on the bed and push her knees wide. “I need to taste you now, Kira.”
“Oh.” She sounds startled. Like she doesn’t know how to receive my offering. Like it hasn’t been done enough to her.
I intend to change that. Show her what she’s been missing. The moment I lick into her, her hands are at my ears. I suspect it’s more out of a need for control than out of passion. She jerks with every flick of my tongue like it’s too intense. More sensation than she’s used to.
I pin her hands by her sides. Her knees flap in against my shoulders, squeezing hard.
I lift my head, licking her juices from my lips. “What’s wrong, Valkiriya? Not used to receiving?”
The stain of dark pink on her cheeks tells me I’m right.
“Do I need to tie you down to help you let go?”
I see the flicker of alarm in her gaze, even though her nipples stiffen into long peaks. She’s not experienced at this game she’s playing. Not at all.
She pushes up to her elbows. “Wh-why don’t you let me finish you?”
Now I’m determined. I’m going to teach her how to receive pleasure.
I climb off the bed and pull my only silk necktie out of the dresser drawer. I walk back to her, stretching it long between my two hands.
“Wrists,” I say gruffly.
She doesn’t move. There’s a glint of defiance in her gaze.
I cock my head. “What’s wrong?” I mock softly. “Afraid you bit off more than you can chew?”
That’s all it takes. She’s competitive, this one. Doesn’t shrink from a challenge. With a haughty toss of her damp locks, she holds her wrists out to me.
I wrap one loop around them first to protect her skin, then tie a tight knot. I secure the other end to the headboard. Once she’s bound, I stand back and admire my lovely captive.
It’s the dichotomy of energies she gives off that makes her so fascinating to me. The waif-like warrior. The seductress soaked in innocence. Now, she looks at me with fluttery anticipation mixed with warning.
She’s prepared to take off my head if I fuck this up.
I give her a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good, Kira.” I cock my head. “Is that even your real name?”
She yanks against the knots like she just realized she might be in trouble. She stops when she sees my smile and lifts her chin. “Yes, it’s my name.” There’s a note of challenge in her voice that makes me believe her.
“Let’s just see.” I pick up her purse from the dresser and root through to find her passport. Kira Koslova. She’s from Moscow, same as I am. I lift my gaze to study her again. I search through the rest of her purse and wallet for anything revealing but find nothing.
I’ve given her long enough to miss me. To grow needy. I’ve reminded her who’s in charge. That her pleasure comes at my whim.
It’s time now to go back to my lovely captive.
I return to the bed where I grip her just above the knees so I can hold her open. I lower my head between her legs and start with a slow torture. A subtle delving of my tongue into her folds. Tracing around her clit. Around her entrance. Around her back hole.
She thrashes and pants. Her muscles squeeze and release. Her ass clenches and shivers. Her belly shudders in and out with each breath. I grow more aggressive, using the flat of my tongue to cover more area at once. I suck her labia, push the hood of her clitoris back to get my lips over the little nubbin.
She’s sensitive. Responsive. Her panting breath turns to little mewls and cries. She yanks and tugs against my tie around her wrists. Her legs push against my grip. She lifts her core to my mouth. I penetrate her with my tongue.
I replace it with one finger. Then another. I stroke her inner wall with my fingertips, slowly at first. As her breath grows louder and faster, I shove them in and out, fingerfucking her as I flick my tongue over and around her clit.
I lift my head to watch her face as I thrust into her with my fingers. Her pale skin is so translucent it shows her flush like bright red slaps, making the fairy’s kiss on her cheek blend in.
I remove my fingers, loving her look of shocked disbelief that I would stop before she finished. I grip her pelvis and flip her to her belly, causing her to adjust her bound wrists to get comfortable. Her back is bowed now, her hair turning lighter now as it dries in a fine spray across her shoulders. She’s slender but has muscular definition like she works out. I imagine she’s stronger than she appears. Of course, she’d be no match for me. I’m twice her weight and a foot taller.
I slide my fingers over her juicy opening, rewarding her for the change of position. Stroking until she humps the bed, moaning plaintively for more. That’s when I lift my hand and give her ass a hard slap.
She whirls and glares at me over her shoulder. I slap again-and again. I deliver a dozen blows, turning her ass the same pretty shade as her face.
Then I slide two fingers inside her as my thumb comes to rest on her back hole.
“Have you been fucked back here Valkiriya?” My voice is a low, deep growl. I hardly recognize it. I hardly recognize myself. I’m not usually so disrespectful with a woman. Not usually so aggressive and rough.
Somehow, though, it feels right. Like she needs this. Like she deserves it-but as a reward -not a punishment.
“Don’t.” There’s a note of warning in her voice. Forbidding. It makes my dick hard.
I won’t. Of course, I wouldn’t ever force a woman to do something she didn’t want. But it makes me want to bring her to the place where she wants it. Where she begs me for it.
I lower my body over hers as I push my fingers into her sopping channel. “Nyet? How about here?” I rumble. “Can I fuck you here?”
“Yes.” There’s only a second’s hesitation.
I try to tamp down the surge of satisfaction at her answer. “I’ll use protection,” I promise, in case that concern was on her mind. I reach for the bedside stand and grab a condom from the drawer there.
She rolls herself onto her back while I’m away, trying to regain some level of control, no doubt. I unwrap the condom and hold her gaze as I roll it on, watching her eyes darken. The rise and fall of her chest. Her breasts fall open to the sides. She has another red birthmarka slightly larger one on her ribs. I kiss it first. Then the one on her cheek.
“Fairy’s kisses,” I say when I notice she’s tensed. “I like them.”
“Untie me,” she murmurs, parting her legs for me.
“Not yet, moya malen’kaya valkiriya. You look too pretty like this.”
I position myself between her legs and rub the head of my sheathed cock over her entrance. She’s wet enough that I slide in easily enough. Her muscles clench around my dick, making me groan.
Her belly hollows and lifts. She watches me, dragging her lower lip through her teeth.
I brace one hand on the headboard and use the other to hold her in place for my thrusts. She rocks up to meet them, taking me deep. Sweet little sounds leave her lips. Uhns and ahs that grow louder as I work us both into a frenzy.
“Do you like to be ridden hard, little Valkyrie?”
Her blonde brows lower. Nostrils flare. Her breath rasps in and out like she’s running a race.
“Or is this the first time you’ve had it rough?”
I know I’m right when she throws her head back, arching those pretty tits toward the ceiling.
“Beautiful,” I mutter. I drag my hand down her throat to squeeze her breast roughly then catch her shoulder before her head bumps into the headboard.
I untie her wrists because the moment for surrender is past. She’s already well into it with me, as needy and desperate as I am. Not holding back.
It was the right move because she reaches for my chest, sliding her hands over the planes of my muscles like she was dying to touch me. She grips my arms and scores me with her nails. Wraps her legs behind my back and urges me deeper. Harder.
The bed knocks against the floor. Bangs the wall.
“Come for me, Kira.” I pinch one of her nipples, probably too hard.
She cries out, her internal walls squeezing and closing around my cock.
I don’t release the nipple, and her eyes fly wide to my face like she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing. My own orgasm rushes me forward like a wave of heat pouring down the back of my head to the base of my spine.
Cum surges down my shaft.
“Come harder,” I growl and release her nipple at the same moment I climax.
She comes again, clinging to me, no doubt to reduce the roughness of my erratic, ecstasy-laden thrusts.
Fireworks go off behind my eyes, and then I lose all track of what’s happening until I find myself covering her body. Crushing her, probably. My sweat mingled with hers. My heart beating against her soft breasts.
I nuzzle into her neck and nip her skin before lifting away. “Are you okay?”
She blinks glassy eyes at me. She appears dazed.
“Did I hurt you, little warrior?”
She shakes her head, a stunned expression still giving her a startled look. Like she didn’t know sex could be like that.
Like she’s never had it that way or even knew it was possible.
“More than you bargained for?”
“A little.” She lets out a soft laugh, almost like she didn’t mean to admit it.
I kiss the fairy blotch again and crawl off to dispose of the condom and wash up. I bring her a cool washcloth, which she holds between her legs as if to soothe the area.
I move it aside and kiss her softly there. Light kisses. An apology for being so rough. For leaving her sore.
“I can sleep on the couch,” she murmurs softly but doesn’t move.
I slide into the bed beside her. “You’re not going anywhere.” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back against my front.
I don’t mean to fall asleep so quickly, especially not with a woman I don’t trust in my bed, but the orgasm was too strong. Too satisfying.
It’s all right, though, because I have this little vixen where I need her. She’s not going anywhere without me knowing it.
Kira
My body trembles from Maykl’s rough but expert handling.
My initial assessment of him was correcthe’s an experienced and nuanced lover. Dominant and demanding yet still attentive. Gives as much as he takes. I didn’t like being tied up, at least not while it was happening, but I now recognize what it did to my body. How it freed me. Let me surrender to the pleasure instead of trying to control it. Or perform. Or whatever it is I usually do with a partner.
I don’t even know anymore.
What just happened in this bed is so far removed from everything I’ve done before. It was so base. Animalistic. Natural. Frightening but also immensely satisfying. One hundred times more satisfying than any other sexual encounter I’ve had.
But now I’m in a pickle.
Maykl’s heavy arm holds me pinned against his body.
I need to get out of this bed and let Stepanov know I’m in. Find out if he’s made contact with the FBI.
Part of methe sexually satisfied partsays I should stay in the warm bed. Fall asleep with this big, burly man. Play a long game with him. Win his trust. Enlist his help. Pump him for information I can use.
But then I remember how suspicious he was of me. How I didn’t fool him for a second. From the moment I walked in those front doors, he knew I was up to something. Sensed me as a threat. I’m glad I hid my police identification in the lining of my purse before I came here.
Because he’s right.
I am a threat.
I came here to find my nephew, and I don’t mind if I tear down their entire organization while I’m at it.
If I’m completely honest with myself, I’d admit that finding Mika feels difficult.
The fact that Anya didn’t have Mika with her is deeply troubling. She turned out to be as terrible a parent as our father, which makes me sick to my stomach. And maybe because I need someone to blame, fuels a fierce determination to bring down the organization responsible for ruining her life.
I don’t know if I’ll find Mika here, but if I can do some damage before I leave, give the FBI something to take them down, I intend to do it.
I have to do something. The bratva killed my father and destroyed my sister’s and nephew’s lives. In this country, there is supposedly a better justice system than in mine. I intend to use it.
I wait until Maykl’s breath has slowed and then pretend I’m just changing position. I roll to face him, moving away from his grip on me and tucking my knees up between us to make space. He stirs when I do, shifting to place his heavy hand on my elbow.
I was right.
He wasn’t cuddling. He was keeping me captive in his bed.
Once more, I wait until his breathing slows, then I wait a little longer.
When I move again, he doesn’t stir. I’m able to slip out from under his grip.
My clothes are still in the bathroom, and I don’t want to get them, so I grab his t-shirt from the floor and pull it on then carefully extract my phone from my purse and creep into the living room.
I start by surveying the security feed. The rows of monitors split into multiple screens showing views from cameras all over the building. I pull out the chair to sit and study them all. It appears he can view the feed from cameras in the hallways on every floor of the building. There’s a parking garage beneath the building that’s being monitored.
There’s nothing interesting or damning in the feed. No dungeons or prisoners to be seen. Of course not. Only in movies are things so neatly laid out and easy. I’ll have to do more detective work to find out if Mika is here.
I open my phone and text Stepanov: I’m in.
He calls immediately, and I scramble to silence the phone. I consider stepping out into the hallway to take the call but quickly discard that idea. There are cameras everywhere. Instead, I text back. I can’t talk privately. Text me.
He responds, My contacts at the FBI said they can help you locate your nephew if you help them infiltrate the bratva.
What do they need me to do?
They want bugs installed around the building, particularly in the penthouse suite in the pakhan’s office. Think you can get in?
The penthouse suite. That could be a challenge, considering Maykl doesn’t trust me. Then again, he said he would bring me to his pakhan tomorrow.
Maybe. I made a friend.
Male?
Yes.
Good.
Where do I get the bugs? I ask.
Order food delivered with the Uber Eats app. The bugs will come with the food.
Okay. Don’t call or text unless you hear from me.
Right. Delete these texts.
On it.
I delete the texts as I hear a slight movement from the bedroom. Maykl’s large form appears. “What are you doing, little warrior?” There’s a dangerous note to his voice.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” I sound breathless. I go into the kitchen and open his cupboard and pull out a glass, then fill it with water. “The jetlag has my clock screwed up.”
He says nothing. When I swivel to face him and guzzle down half the glass of water, I find him watching me, brows down, a grim expression on his face.
My excuse is plausible. Hell, it’s probably true. At least he didn’t catch me sitting at his security desk.
“Do you have anything I can take to help me sleep?”
“No.” He’s not happy with me. “Come back to bed.”
I set the glass down on the counter and follow him obediently to the bed, trying to steady my nerves and calm my breath.
I’m skating on thin ice here. Seducing Maykl may have been a pleasurable diversion for the two of us, but it certainly didn’t build any trust between us.
I will have to do a much better job at this if I’m going to get him to bring me upstairs.
We climb under the covers, and I roll to face him. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you,” I offer. I need to give him more. Give him something he can believe. The truth.
He says nothing.
“My sister’s dead. I identified her body at the morgue today. I’m looking for her son, my nephew. I thought he might be here.”
Maykl reaches out a long arm and turns on the bedside lamp.
“Who is your nephew?”
“Mika Koslova. He’s fifteen.”
I watch Maykl’s face closely but see no flicker of recognition. He shakes his head slowly, a firm frown in place. “What makes you think he’s here?”
“He came to Chicago with the bratva. He and my sister both did. It would have been… eight years ago. I hoped” I allow my true emotion to show in the tremble of my lips “I hoped you might have him here.”
Maykl shakes his head slowly. “No, Kira. I’m sorry. There’s no one here that age, nor have I heard the name. I know everyone in the building.”
Real tears seep into my eyes, and a sob clogs my throat. I believe him.
He sees my emotion and cradles my face, lowering his lips to press a kiss to my forehead.
I’m not used to being shown tenderness. I didn’t grow up with it, nor have I allowed it in my few and far-between relationships. Under normal instincts, I would push him away. Pull myself together and be stoic.
But I intended to show him something real, and now that I have, I’m wobbling on the edge of losing my footing. My defenses were down, and he slipped in.
And I like it.
That’s the dumbest part. I enjoy the feeling of being comforted by this man, just as I enjoyed being tied up by him.
There’s something about him that makes me want to surrender a little control. Let him lead.
“What bratva?” Maykl asks, picking up the earlier thread of conversation. “Men in the brotherhood don’t keep families.”
My tears dry up. The familiar bitterness returns. “They were not a family. The bratva took my sister as payment for a debt sixteen years ago. Left her pregnant and ruined her life. She became their whore to provide for herself and the baby. And me.” My stomach churns remembering those years.
Me skipping school to take care of the baby while Anya tried to earn enough money to keep a roof over our heads. There was a constant sense of dreadthe fear of something even worse happening to us.
I realize now it was based in love. In protectiveness. Because at the tender age of thirteen, I fell in love with that baby boy, as much as if he’d been my own. And my need to protect him and keep him safe outgrew all other concerns.
So, Anya taking him when she moved to Chicago cut out my heart.
But I had no rights. I wasn’t his real parent. I may have thought her an unfit motherI may have even said those words to herbut they made no difference. In fact, I made everything so much worse by driving a wedge between us.
Maybe she would have called me for help sooner if we hadn’t parted on such bad terms.
I believe I catch a look of recognition in Maykl’s expressionwhether it’s because he knew my sister or because such behavior is familiar to him, I can’t be sure.
All he says is, “I’m sorry.”
We lie in silence for a few moments, and then I say, “So can I stay here with you? While I deal with my sister’s funeral arrangements and make inquiries about Mika?”
He hesitates then nods. “You may stay with me.”
“Do you need your pakhan’s permission?”
He rubs a hand across his mouth. “Perhaps not. If you’re staying with me, and it’s temporary.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
He turns out the light.
I speak again. “Should I speak with him?” I still have to get myself into the leader’s penthouse. “I mean, may I? To ask about my nephew?”
“Da. I will bring you tomorrow.”
The tightness in my chest eases by one notch. A small victory.
I can plant the bugs, and the FBI will get what they need to bring the bratva down. Then they will help me locate Mika.
Things might work out for me after all.