Saved by the Outlaw: Motorcycle Club / Hitman Romance (47 page)

“So then, what did your father do?”

“He did not retaliate. You see, he could not. He was now a single father with a very young son — if anything were to happen to him, I would have been an orphan. And Russian orphanages are not good places,” Ivan explains. “But he did one thing that the mafia did not expect. He raised me to fight.”

Ivan pauses to take another draught of his vodka. “My poor father, he realized that it was not enough for him to be a fighter. He had lived his whole life thinking he could protect his family, that he was enough to keep them safe. But the day of the accident, he learned otherwise. No matter how hard we try, evil can always strike behind a turned back. He learned that he would not always be around to shield me from harm, so he had to teach me to protect myself. And he did. Do not get me wrong, my father was always a kind man, but he was also very disciplined. He did not allow me to cry as a child. He taught me to hide my weaknesses and to grow my strengths. I could hold a gun and shoot a target from a distance by the age of seven. I could get my father in a headlock and bring him to the ground by my fourteenth birthday. My father was a good soldier, but he trained me to be even better.”

I am utterly enthralled with Ivan’s words, sitting rapt and quiet, as he sips his drink and shakes his head sadly. “I was going to join the
Spetznaz
, myself, when I came of age. But when I was sixteen, something terrible happened.”

“What?” I prompt, on the edge of my seat.

“My father died.”

“Was it the mafia?” I ask in a near-whisper.

He gives me a mournful look. “No,
moya
zvezda
, it was a natural death. Old bones, long winters, and a broken heart are the cruelest killers.”

“Is that when you decided to come to America?”

“Ah, the story is not that simple. You see, when my father died, I nearly lost my head. Finally, thirteen years of pent-up rage boiled over and now there was no one left to keep me in check. So, I prepared myself for a mission: to find the men who killed my mother and
sestra
. I did not sleep for many nights, spending every minute in pursuit of their names and addresses. Turns out they were all old men by then, but they kept themselves very well-guarded. One day, I tracked them all to a lounge in Novosibirsk. I managed to subdue the guards and get inside.

“I told them who I was. I made them confess to their crimes. And then I executed them, one by one.” Ivan takes another drink and sets down the empty glass. “But I was still a lawful man, Katy. In the middle of that bloody scene, I started to call the police to turn myself in. I knew I was guilty, and I had no reason to hide anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Before I could dial the number, I heard the sounds of guns clicking from every direction. I looked up to find myself surrounded by members of the mafia. They’d responded quickly to the threat and now they had an ultimatum for me.”

“What was it?” I ask, my eyes wide.

“They gave me two options: to die, or to join them. Automatically I chose the first option, but then they mocked me, telling me how despicable it was for me to allow myself to die, throwing away everything my father had worked for. They called me a coward.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier for them to let you turn yourself in?”

Ivan shakes his head. “They did not want the police involved any more than necessary. So, finally, I gave in. I joined the mafia. They were so impressed with my skill that they trained me as an
ubiytsa
— a hit man. They wanted me as far away from the Special Forces as possible, making me cut all ties with Russia, so they shipped me off to Brighton Beach. I have been here ever since.”

I finish my martini with one big gulp, completely at a loss for words.

Ivan fixes me with a serious, almost regretful expression. He is so handsome.

“I understand if this changes the way you see me, Katy.”

I
reach across the table
, place my hand on Ivan’s wrist earnestly, and he locks my eyes in the deepest, most entrancing gaze. He slowly, delicately lifts my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. I feel my heart tripping over itself with excitement. Ivan does not take his eyes off of me, does not lower my hand, but raises his other hand to snap his fingers, getting the waitress’s attention. She hurries over, and I can all but feel her tension as she witnesses the smoldering heat between us at the table.
Poor girl
, I think.
You’re standing too close to the flame
.

“Ready for the tab?” the waitress asks meekly after a moment.

Ivan nods, then finally breaks away for just a second to reply, “Yes. We are.”

“I’ll get that right now, then, sir.” She rushes away, undoubtedly blushing. I, however, feel surprisingly cool. Something has shifted between Ivan and I over the course of our time at this table. I know him better now, better than perhaps anyone else. I don’t imagine that Ivan is the sort of man to share just that sort of personal detail with just anyone. I have gotten the impression that he lives a solitary kind of existence — without friends to confide in, without family to remember him as he used to be so long ago.

He has shown me his own heart, even just for a short moment.

And now I want — no,
need
— him to show me another side of him, a different part.

He pays the bill, leaving an overly-generous tip, and leads me out the door by the hand. We step out into a sudden swirl of snowflakes, the air so cold it momentarily takes my breath away. Just as I gasp at the temperature, Ivan pulls me close and seizes my mouth in an engulfing kiss, his hand clawing at my hair, trailing down to clutch my ass. With my lungs tightening in my chest, I feel an inexplicable euphoria. He pulls back to stare hungrily into my face.

My throat opens and immediately I inhale sharply. Ivan raises an eyebrow and cracks a slow, somewhat diabolical grin. He’s no sadist, I know, but he seems to be taking a unique pleasure in depriving me briefly of air. And I have to admit that I kind of like it, too.

“What do you say we get somewhere warm and lose these clothes?” Ivan growls huskily, moving close to breathe the words into my ear, sending a shiver down my neck.

“We’ve got a long drive back,” I reply, unable to repress the slight pout in my voice.

Ivan kisses me again, harder this time. “I have a place much closer.”

He snakes an arm around my waist and tugs me down the street to hail a cab. Even in the heavy snow, it only takes about ten seconds for a driver to take notice and pull over for him. I wonder what it must be like, being so riveting and powerful a figure as Ivan. The world seems to fall hushed in awe at the sight of his stature, the sound of his voice. Being at his side, I feel as though I’m in the presence of a power I have never touched before. And if I just stay with him, I get to share in the glory of it. Like I’m made bigger, stronger, almost invincible beside him.

We climb into the cab and Ivan gives the driver some quick instructions, and then we’re off, winding quickly through traffic, peeling off down side-streets. I halfway wonder if Ivan slipped him something, we’re going so fast. But I can’t worry. I physically can’t bring myself to give a damn about anything but the desire rising in me, the need to be impossibly close to the impressive man seated beside me. Luckily, he seems to feel the same way.

Ivan turns to me and entangles both hands in my hair, pulling me to him in a kiss. Before I can stop myself or think better of it, I clamber over to straddle him in the back seat of the taxi cab, never breaking our kiss. Ivan slides his hands down my back and down over the slope of my ass, giving it a quick smack. I moan into his mouth and move closer, my crotch coming full-flush against his. I can feel myself getting aroused, even through the layers of clothing separating our bodies.

“Soon,
solnishka
— my sunshine,” Ivan whispers to me, smoothing my hair back from my face with a delicate tenderness. “My place is nearby.”

Just a minute later, the driver announces, “Stop’s up here on the right, sir.”

“Fantastic. Pull to the curb, will you?” Ivan says.

The driver obliges and stops the car alongside the pavement in front of a swanky-looking gray marble building I don’t recognize. I’ve lived in this city nearly my whole life but this is an unfamiliar area for me. This ridiculous city never ceases to amaze me, and neither does Ivan.

Once again, Ivan pays with an over-the-top gratuity to the driver, and helps me gingerly out of the cab, taking care not to let me step in a slushy snow-covered puddle on the way out. He all but lifts me over it up onto the curb. I smile into his face, which is ruddy-cheeked with the cold and decorated with fragile, tiny snowflakes. I cannot help but kiss him right there and then on the sidewalk, despite the cold, despite the passersby strolling past. I can’t care less about the looks we get from anyone. All that matters is the warm, handsome body in front of me, and the way he makes me feel.

He hypnotizes me with that steely gaze again, holding me entranced in his arms as he sweeps me out of the snow and through the sparkling revolving doors of the building. Standing in a massive, immaculate lobby illuminated by a row of three glittering chandeliers, I can’t help but spin around like a character in a romantic comedy on her first awe-stricken trip to the city. But I’ve never been anywhere this nice before, and the awe is genuine.

“This way,” Ivan says, and he pulls me toward the elevator, past the front desk of smiling, beautiful women in form-fitting white receptionist uniforms. We ride the elevator up to the very top floor and step directly into a penthouse with wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling glossy windows. The furniture is smooth, shiny leather and the carpet is so plush that I feel my feet sink at least a centimeter as soon as I step onto it.

“It’s… breathtaking,” I murmur, my breath literally quite taken away.

“Take off your clothes,” Ivan orders in a low growl.

Immediately, I strip out of my layers to stand in my lacy panties and bra. It’s unceremonious and desperate, and I can feel goosebumps of excitement raising up on my skin. Ivan drops his jacket to the floor and rubs his hands together, staring at me with ravenous desire.

“This apartment is nice. But this,” he says, gesturing with a flourish toward my almost-naked body, “
this
is breathtaking.”

He rushes to me and lifts me up in his arms with such effortless ease, kissing me hard, his tongue pressing into my mouth. I wrap my arms around his waist and he pushes me up against the wall, pinning me there. I make a move to try and run my hands through his hair but he stops me, deftly pinning my arms above my head with one hand while his other arm holds me up. I am utterly amazed at his strength — I mean, I knew he was strong, but this is remarkable. I feel his chest muscles rippling against me and the place between my thighs responds with its own need.

Ivan leans in and nudges my head to the side to get at the soft, ticklish flesh of my neck, kissing his way down from my jaw to my collarbone. His full, luscious lips suck tantalizing love-bruises into my skin, marking me as his own, for all to see. The sensation makes me shiver and moan with pleasure. I need him more than ever, but he is taking his sweet time.

“Oh God, Ivan,” I whimper breathlessly, “I need you.”

“Not yet,” he groans, tightening his grip on my wrists above my head. It hurts just a little bit, but it only seems to add to the bliss of the moment, pain mingling with the delicious pressure of his lips on my bare skin. And he knows it.

“You like it rough, don’t you,
mishka
?” Ivan whispers gruffly. He grazes my exposed collarbone with his teeth, eliciting a rattling moan from my lips. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes. Oh yes, I do!” I sputter, my cunt growing slicker by the second. Something about his captivatingly authoritative tone, his unrelenting strength, the knowledge that he could crush me in an instant — it was totally intoxicating.

“You want me deep inside you?”

I nod and choke out, “Yes.”

“Yes,
sir
,” he corrects me.

“Sir,” I add. He kisses me full on the lips and then lets go of my arms so that they fall at my sides. Then he kneels down slightly and hoists me up higher, without so much as a grimace, so that my legs come around his shoulders, his face level with my crotch. Moving back a little and leaning me back against the wall, he noses at my pussy through the silky fabric of my panties, and I cry out in surprise.

He glances up at me with a smirk, then tears the fabric aside with his teeth. He gently kisses my cunt, then begins dragging his warm tongue up and down, nibbling delicately at my clit, so that I buck slightly against his face. My hands clutch in vain at the smooth wall for something to grab hold of as he puts harder pressure on that little bundle of nerves. I roll my head back and shut my eyes, my breaths coming quick and short now.

I’ve never been so adeptly manhandled in my life, held against a wall with a tongue between my thighs. He’s still completely clothed, and I’m so vulnerable and exposed, but that makes it even hotter. I reach down, blindly fumbling for Ivan’s head, then finding it and gently, subtly pushing him into my cunt. He groans in what appears to be a “back-off” warning, and I immediately let go. He is in control. He’s always in control.

To punish me for my transgression, he sucks at my clit, hard. The shockwave of pleasure tinged ever so minutely with tantalizing pain shoots upward through my body and I yelp his name, my heart hammering in my ribcage.

Ivan takes this as a sign of encouragement and doesn’t back down, instead lapping harder and faster at the tingling folds of my pussy, swirling his tongue around my clit relentlessly. The feeling is so overwhelming that I almost want to shove him away and close my legs — but damn it, I can’t. It is almost too much, but it still feels fucking amazing.

Besides, even if I wanted to, I doubt Ivan was ready to give it up.

The next moment, he pulls back for a breath, and looks up at me. “If you want me to stop, you can say so,” he murmurs, his lips slick with my honey.

“Please don’t,” I reply quietly. He licks his lips and dives right back in, sucking my clit and rubbing it with the pointed tip of his tongue with vigor. The sudden reprisal of sensation electrifies my nerves and makes me moan, “Oh my God.”

Ivan quickens the tempo, burying his face in my pussy until I feel my orgasm building rapidly, the pleasure ratcheting up and up until my whole body tenses — and then releases with a violent rush of bliss. Ivan becomes gentler in his motions, but still hungrily lapping up my juices as I come down from climax with a few shuddering twinges.

Then, in one fluid movement, he takes me down from his shoulders and carries my limp, sated body like a ragdoll down the hallway to a bedroom. I’m still dazed when he sets me down on a massive king-sized bed and begins stripping out of his clothes, dropping them in an unceremonious pile on the floor. When he stands tall and naked, the late-afternoon sun soaking every inch of his glorious flesh, I can’t help but stare in awe and desire.

Finally regaining some sense of self after my mind-shattering orgasm, I scoot back on the bed and spread my legs open, watching Ivan expectantly. I want to call him to me, beg him to fuck me, please and now. But he holds me under his spell, and I am quiet, waiting.

At long last, he walks over to the side of the bed and lies down beside me, his huge, glorious cock pressing against my thigh. I ache with the need to have him inside of me, pushing deep into my cunt, filling me up. I want to tell him so. But I resist — I know he will only fuck me when he’s good and ready.

He pulls me close, turning me away and rubbing his cock against my ass. His thick, strong arm reaches over my side to massage my breast, taking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and drawing light circles around it, causing it to stiffen. The sensation makes me breathe raggedly and thrust back against him, moving my ass up and down along his shaft.

Ivan groans, the low sound vibrating down the back of my neck. He pushes my hair out of the way and peppers my shoulders with gentle, teasing kisses.

“You want me,” he mumbles imperatively.

“More than anything,” I reply, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Tell me.” Ivan gets up and rolls me back onto my back, positioning himself between my legs. His cock brushes against my clit in the process, and I inhale sharply.

Looking up at him dazedly I reply, “I want you.”

“Beg me for it,” he orders.

“Please, sir. I want you inside of me now. I want you so bad I can hardly stand it,” I answer, with complete honesty. I don’t even get a chance to be surprised at myself, because then Ivan is leaning over to kiss me. He sweetly caresses my cheek, his thumb swiping down the curve of my jaw.

“Good girl,” he says, with true affection warming his voice. With one more kiss, he reaches for the nightstand and retrieves a condom, starting to unwrap it.

In another move totally out of character for me, I reach up and boldly stop him from opening it. I bite my lip and lift my hips to brush against the head of his cock.

“Please, I want to feel you inside me —
really
feel you.”

Once the words are out of my mouth, Ivan instantly tosses the condom aside and wordlessly positions his shaft at the entrance of my cunt. I hold my breath.

And then he pushes inside of me and my mind goes temporarily blank.

The feeling is so entirely overwhelming, so incredibly good, I can feel tears prickling in my eyes. The look on his face tells me that he feels much the same way. Ivan pulls back and thrusts into me, filling me so wholly with his beautiful cock. The feeling of his hot, soft skin moving inside me is delicious, and I can feel my toes curling. I close my eyes and moan his name as he pushes faster and deeper.

He’s reaching that secret spot, hitting it perfectly with every thrust, and I know I won’t last very long. Ivan pulls my legs up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to push even further into my pussy. He’s so fucking big it almost hurts, but it feels so good that I honestly don’t even care if he splits me in two. I just want him to keep fucking me.