Chapter 41
forty-one
She is leaning against his desk, her raven hair tossed over her shoulders as she pushes her fake water wigglers out in a desperate attempt to catch my husband’s attention.
The dress she wears barely covers her liposuctioned ass.
Matthias stands a few feet away from her, a heavy crystal glass in one hand that is nearly empty, and his hardened gaze fixed on her overly scalpeled face.
“I didn’t realize we employed whores when the sun was out.” Matthias turns toward me as I stride into his office. He isn’t the least bit surprised to see me.
Serena sneers at me, her eyes narrowing, but then it is gone, replaced by a fake smile and taunting eyes.
“And you are?” The question would have been innocent if we hadn’t already met. If she hadn’t put her lips on my husband at the gala.
“My wife,” Matthias tells her before I get the chance. “The one I’ve told you about.”
“Oh?” Serena’s mouth drops open slightly, eyes wide. The perfect picture of innocence. “I don’t remember you saying you had a wife.”
She is good, I will give her that, but my husband is a master of facial expressions. A human lie detector test, and I have picked up on a few things here and there. I know full well he told her we were married the night of the gala.
“Wow, you’re good,” I applaud her mockingly. “But not that good. Your left shoulder shrugs a bit when you lie.”
Serena huffs, dropping her facade, and stands straighter, shoulders rolling back as she transforms before my eyes into the woman I saw the night of the gala. Cold and calculating.
“Perceptive little bitch, I see,” she snarls.
Matthias growls at the insult, but I am one step ahead of him.
I spring forward, my hand snatching up her perfectly placed locks, ensnaring them in my grasp.
Serena gasps in pain when I wrench her head down.
Her back arches uncomfortably, acrylic claws digging into my arm as I all but drag her toward the open balcony.
Swinging her around to face me, I drop the hand in her hair in favor of her neck and push her body against the metal railing of the balcony until her feet come off the ground and stark fear crawls into her face.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Serena.” My voice is calm and steady, as if I am talking to a friend instead of hanging a whore partway off a railing thirty floors up.
“I’m not a bitch. Or a whore. Or any of the other colorful names you are probably calling me in your head right now.
My name is Ava Dashkov, Pakhan of the Seattle Bratva, wife of Matthias Dashkov, and I want you to remember that when you address me. ”
“I—” I tighten my hand around her throat.
“I’m still talking.” She quiets immediately. “I am well aware of how you tried to blackmail Matthias at the gala for the information you have on where his mother is buried, and I have no doubt you were trying to be just as salacious in his office a minute ago.”
She shakes her head, panic seizing her features as she tries to deny it.
“I really do hate liars,” I scold and shove her a little farther up the railing.
“No!” she cries out, her feet swinging wildly as she claws at my hand around her throat viciously. “Please. You don’t know who my father is.”
I scoff. “And I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her.
“You are going to give my husband the information he asked for. He paid his debt when he redirected your unwanted suitor. If you try this seduction act again or try and retaliate, I will send you back to your father piece by piece.” I pause.
“Or maybe I’ll drop you off on the doorstep of that suitor you seem so afraid of. ”
Serena freezes, chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to breathe. “Please,” she begs, tears streaming down her perfectly made-up face. Ouch, mascara lines are a bitch to clean up. “Please don’t. I—I promise.”
“Promise what, Serena?”
“I promise I’ll leave him alone!” she screams. “Just please don’t let him take me.”
Shouldn’t I feel pity for her predicament?
I don’t. Not at all.
“You should have thought about that before you came in here with your seduction and your threats,” I bite out.
Tightening my hold on her neck a little more to get the point across, I let her hang there for a moment longer.
Once I see the fear crawl fully into her eyes, I drag her away from the edge. She hits the concrete with a harsh cry.
“Where is my mother’s grave?” Matthias stares down at her, his eyes cold and unfeeling. This woman has used up all her chances with him.
“Kuz’minskoye Kladbishche,” Serena whispers. “That was where Kirill ordered my father to bury your mother. He buried her in another grave so no one would find her.”
“What was the name on the gravestone?”
“Uh,” she stalls for a second as she thinks about it. “Anya Levchenko or something like that. She’s in sector D4. I looked it up.”
I look to Matthias for direction, and he nods. She isn’t showing any signs of lying.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I hiss at her.
“If I ever see you near my husband again, your father and unwanted suitor will be the least of your problems, I guarantee it.” Serena doesn’t bother to acknowledge my threat before she takes off toward the elevator as fast as she can go in her scuffed-up Jimmy Choos.
Clearing my throat, I brush off my skirt and stride back into his office with my head held high. Matthias doesn’t say a word to me. He just walks to the door, shutting it and locking it behind him. He closes the blinds next and dims the lights slightly.
“Turn around, Red,” he orders as he stalks toward me, a deep hunger echoing in his stormy eyes.
Licking my lips, I immediately obey, bending myself over in the exact spot Serena tried seducing him.
A shiver of excitement runs through me when one hand skates up my inner thigh.
He parts my legs with his knee and yanks my skirt up, exposing my ass.
“That was hot, moya koroleva,” Matthias whispers in my ear. I moan when he slaps my ass, the stark sound reverberating through the quiet office. Matthias chuckles. “Such a dirty girl for me, Ava.” He pushes down my underwear until they rest at my ankles.
“Fuck,” I moan again, satisfaction brimming through me when he pushes two fingers inside me.
“So wet for me already,” he groans. “Did threatening Serena turn you on? Does violence make you horny and wet for me, my little psycho?”
He slaps my ass harder when I don’t answer, the action shoving me tighter against the desk, the edge digging into my waist.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I breathe, pushing back against his fingers. “Putting that bitch in her place made me horny for you.”
“Good girl.” Fuck, I clamp down on his fingers when he says those words.
The bastard chuckles. Fabric rustles behind me, and I turn my head to look at what he is doing.
A small yelp bursts from my lips as his hand tangles in my hair and he wrenches my head back, preventing me from looking anywhere but in front of me. “Eyes front, Ava.”
He lets go of my hair when I do as I am told and train my eyes on the small picture of me on his desk.
Tears spring to my eyes when I see it, an emotion I don’t want to name burrowing into my heart.
The photo is of my first day teaching at the compound.
I am smiling, hair up in a messy bun. I don’t remember anyone taking a picture.
Soft silk slides around my neck. His tie. Matthias pulls, the silk drawing taut against my throat, forcing me to arch my back to keep it from strangling me.
“Let’s play,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. He pulls his fingers out of my pussy to open his zipper. My body trembles in anticipation at the sound. I feel the hard length of him rubbing against my folds, coating it in my juices. I am a hot dripping mess down there.
“Matthias.” In one swift motion, he fills me up, burying himself to the hilt. The cinch of the tie around my neck and the feel of the edge of the desk grinding against my clit have my nerve endings lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“Fuck, Krasnyy,” he groans. “I could stay buried in you forever.” Removing his cock until just the tip remains, he slams into me again, the desk sliding along the floor a few inches.
“Jesus,” I curse as he does this a few more times, pulling nearly all the way out before aggressively shoving himself back inside of me.
The tie around my neck remains just tight enough to make it hard to breathe but not enough to cut off my air supply.
Not that I would care at this moment. I am riding high on cloud nine.
“You want to come, good girl?”
I can only nod, the cresting wave of pleasure too much for my addled brain to formulate words.
“Please,” I beg as the coil in my stomach tightens further and further. It is almost there, ready to release and make me fly. If only—
“No,” I cry out desperately when he suddenly stops. Matthias chuckles darkly.
“Not yet.”
“I’m going to claw your eyes out,” I snarl and push back against him. If he isn’t going to fuck me, then I will fuck him. And it works, for like two seconds. Then he tightens his hold on the tie and pounds into me earnestly.
“Is this what you wanted, my little psycho?” he asks me as he pounds into me over and over again. My pussy clamps down around his cock, my back arching, welcoming the rough touch he bestows on me. “You wanted to be owned? To be fucked like the little whore you are?”
He reaches between us with his free hand, finding my swollen clit. “But you’re my little whore, aren’t you, Red?” He pinches my clit and waits until I am gasping and writhing from the fresh pain. Matthias gives me no reprieve as he keeps up his zealous rhythm.
“Matthias,” I moan, pushing back against him, trying to meet every rabid thrust, aching for the next.
“Good girl.” He thrusts harder, forcing my hips into the desk. “Fuck, Ava,” he growls, his hips stuttering slightly and his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Beg me to come.”
I shake my head. Fuck no, I’m not. He slaps my ass hard and pulls on his tie. My eyes widen as my throat becomes completely restricted. What the fuck? Shit. I am pretty sure I just geyser even more wetness between my thighs.
“Beg me to come,” he snarls dangerously, not allowing me room to breathe or pull back.
“Please let me come!”
“Not enough,” he growls. “Beg.”
“Matthias.” My body tightens, preparing for the crash of bliss that is just out of reach. “Dammit. Please, sir, let me come. I need to—”
He pushes forward one last time, stealing the breath from my lungs when his fingers pinch my clit hard, and I suddenly unravel.
My scream is hoarse, lungs begging for air as he fucks me even harder through every roll of pleasure.
His balls slap against me, cock plowing deeper and harder into my heated pussy.
With a roar, Matthias empties himself into me, deftly undoing the tie around my throat as he does. Panting, he leans over, bracing himself on either side of me, hands on the desk. His teeth bite into the curve of my neck, and I arch into him, moaning his name once again.
“Ya lyublyu tyebya, Krasnyy,” he hums in my ear.
“I love you, too.”
And I do. I just hope that my loving him doesn’t end in disappointment.