12. Konstantin #2
A satisfied growl vibrated through me and against her pussy.
“Fuck, Illias,” she moaned. “Yes, yes. Ohhh…”
I nipped her clit again, massaging it with my tongue, then I drew it into my mouth and sucked on the swollen sensitive nub. Her thighs trembled. Her hips ground against my mouth, her movements jerky. I thrust my tongue in and out of her, tongue fucking her.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Don’t stop, please. I’m going… Oh, oh, oh…”
Her scream of pleasure pierced the air, pushing her pussy into my mouth while her fingers gripped my hair. If there was a way to go, this would be a perfect way to die. Being smothered by her pussy.
The gush of her juices soaked my tongue and I licked her clean and she trembled while her slim, long legs wrapped around my neck. She shuddered, those small tremors telling me this impacted her as much as me.
I rose over her, positioning us in the missionary position.
“Ready for another round, moya luna?” I groaned against her lips, my dick painfully hard.
Without giving her time to answer, I shoved inside her in one powerful thrust.
“Ahhhh…” She struggled to breathe and I stilled.
“You okay?” I stroked her face, those eyes glimmering like sapphires. She opened her legs wider, the soles of her feet digging into the backs of my thighs.
She arched off the bed, her lips seeking out mine. Fuck, she felt so good. Her cunt gripped my cock, and it felt like heaven. Every single piece of her felt like home. “Don’t stop,” she breathed against my lips. “I l-love y-you… “ My heart stilled. My chest swelled. My ears buzzed. “-inside me.”
Disappointment rushed through me, like a rapid river. It tasted bitter. But I pushed it away. It was too soon. In time, it would come.
So I made love to my wife. Her slickness welcomed me. Her hips arched against me. I moved in and out of her tight heat, strangling my dick. I kept my pace slow and unhurried. Each thrust inside her was like coming home.
“Oh, Illias…” Her eyes hazed. Her lips parted.
I powered into her body with deep, long thrusts. I rolled my hips, letting her feel my every stroke, hitting her G-spot. My hands were all over her. Squeezing her tits. Grabbing her ass. Digging my fingers into her soft hips, I pulled out, leaving the tip of my dick in her hot entrance.
Our lips brushed, my tongue slid inside her mouth. I kissed her with the same rhythm of my thrusts, my tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. Then my mouth trailed down her chin, nipping and marking. I kissed her delicate neck, sucking on her tender flesh.
I feasted on her tight nipples, thrusting in and out of her. Her sexy, throaty moans encouraged me forward while her inner muscles milked me, strangling my cock.
“Illias…oh, God…” She panted. “Please untie me. I want to touch you.”
In one swift move, I removed her bindings and her hands wrapped around me. Her nails clawed at me. I pushed inside her, losing control. Each thrust was rougher than the last. I powered in and out of her while she throbbed around me.
My blood rushed through my veins, relishing in the feel of her heat as she milked me. Her eyes shut, her mouth parted and she cried out as she came undone. The rush of hearing her cries of pleasure had my blood rushing through my veins and down to my groin.
Her nails clawed at my back, drawing my own orgasm out. My groan reverberated around the room as I spurted cum inside her. It filled her pussy, the overflow dripping all over her. The buzz spread through my veins, entered my brain and had me out of my mind with this animalistic sense of ownership.
Tatiana was the only one who drew this out of me. The connection between us was deep, dark and so fucking overwhelming that it shook me to my core.
A deep, contented sigh slipped from my wife’s lips and she snuggled into me, my dick still buried inside her.
It was where I was meant to be all along.
* * *
I watched my wife sleep as the first rays of dawn flickered through the windows, shining over her golden hair. She looked like a soft angel when she slept, but when awake, she could be a vengeful queen.
Tatiana understood the family unit.
She’d lived it. She’d breathed it. It was part of her DNA.
Maybe it was those invisible strings that connected us. Yes, there was physical attraction, but it went beyond that. She might be the Nikolaev baby sister but she had that strength about her. Underneath her rebellious nature. Underneath that slightly unhinged Nikolaev way.
Even surrounded by guns and men who caused most adult people to piss themselves, she’d threatened them as she tried to revive Adrian.
The night of Adrian’s death played in my mind as I watched her sleep, that light blonde hair spread on my chest like a halo.
She was the most peculiar combination of an angel, fighter, and rebel.
Sometimes it fucking hurt to look at her, especially like this.
When she slept. It reminded me of the night I took her to the hospital. When I thought I’d lost her.
In my entire life, I had never experienced that kind of fear. I witnessed my own mother killed at six and that didn’t scratch the surface of the fear I had of losing Tatiana.
I remembered how each heartbeat felt like a knife in my chest as the car sped through Louisiana to where I tracked Marchetti.
“Speed up,” I barked at Nikita in a cold tone.
The dark streets of New Orleans’ suburbs were ominous and reminded me of another that fatal night so many years ago. The night that started it all. Adrian’s hate for us.
If Marchetti got to them before us, Tatiana would be dead right alongside Adrian. Just for being with him. Marchetti never left loose ends and regardless of what Tatiana knew or didn’t know, she was a loose end.
Nikita pressed harder on the gas, the engine roaring louder as we sped down the highway. Not even the moon was our friend. It was a perfect Halloween night.
The first flicker of lights in the distance had my pulse leaping.
“There.” I pointed to the side of the road. Fuck, Marchetti was here already. The car was upside down. Where in the fuck was Tatiana?
The car came screeching to a stop, and I was out before the engine even stopped.
“Kill him,” Marchetti ordered. Adrian stood all bloodied in front of him, but alive. Just surface bruises. Then whose blood was it. My eyes frantically searched around until a glimpse of light gold strands against the car window caught my eye.
“They both have to die,” Marchetti commanded in that unemotional voice, his expression dark. He valued his work from the shadows above all else. It kept his family protected, although for generations Marchetti’s women ended up dead.
“No,” I gritted and his eyes finally came to mine. “You touch her and I’m out.” His eyes narrowed on me. It was a risk, but I’d take it. For her, I fucking would. “And don’t forget her unhinged brothers.”
“You can control them,” Marchetti answered, putting his hand in his suit.
“But I won’t,” I said coldly. “If you kill her, they can go hunting you all for all I care.”
Adrian laughed. Maniacally. Sardonic.
He spit on the ground, blood and saliva mixing in his mouth. “You fucking Konstantins always have to get your way.”
“And you, fucker, should have never come after us,” I growled. “You had to drag your wife into it.”
“My wife,” he hissed. “Remember that.”
Red mist worked into my vision. My blood roared in my ears. I reacted and punched him in the face. Hard.
“End him,” I hissed.
Bang.
It was that simple. Adrian’s body fell to the ground, blood seeped through his shirt, spreading like a red lake.
“I fucking vouch for her, Marchetti.” The anger vibrated through my voice, my veins electrified with it. If I had to kill every member of the Omertà myself, I’d do it. For her, I’d do anything. “If she has the chip, I’ll retrieve it. If she was part of it, I’ll handle it.”
Adrian bled on the ground. He might already be dead, I didn’t give a shit. Tatiana Nikolaev was my only concern.
“Fine.” The invisible rope around my chest eased up and oxygen flooded back into my brain. Thank fuck. Fighting Marchetti wasn’t on my agenda. I had to get Tatiana to the hospital.
I rushed to the flipped car. I’d done my share of killing. Blood was never an issue. But seeing the blood staining Tatiana’s pale blonde hair from the open split on her forehead was something else entirely. I was ready to lose my fucking mind seeing her in that state.
Kneeling on the dirty gravel, I extended my hand and reached for her.
“Grab my hand,” I urged her.
The look in her eyes, full of trust and desperation, was like a punch in the gut. The fighter and rebel vanished in front of my eyes, being replaced by fear.
She shifted, reaching for my hand. She strained against the airbag.
Losing her strength, she slumped, her face stained with blood, dirt, and tears. “You can do it. Don’t you fucking give up.”
It was one thing this woman never did. She wasn’t the type to give up.
I leaned closer and growled, “Give me your hand, moya luna. Don’t you fucking give up.”
Her shoulder was fucked up too. Goddamn it. She was in a bad state. She reached out again for me. She kept trying, a frustrated cry leaving her lips.
“I don’t want to die,” she whimpered.
The words sliced through my chest. Her pain felt like my own. My fucking heart and soul were so attuned to hers. Yes, I barely crossed her mind, but she was always on my mind.
“You’re not dying,” I hissed with determination. I’d hunt down God if he dared take her away from me. “Just another inch and I got you.”
She pushed herself, wincing as she tried. She looked fucking battered and fury swelled in my chest all over again. I wanted to punish Adrian for putting her in that position. He should have left her and then gone after his fucking revenge.
Our fingers brushed and her exhale shattered through the tension in my bones. I wrapped my fingers around hers. Then I held on.
For her. For me. For us.
Because it was always meant to be us.