3. Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
I always feel like somebody’s watching me. The tune whispered through my mind, as I felt my malen'kiy angel staring at me from across the deck. She had my interest. The more I knew about someone, the easier it was to manipulate them.
What had she suffered at the hands of that fucking Mikhail?
If I could resurrect him and kill him all over again, I would. I didn’t look over at her, but I knew she was staring at me. I missed the next shot and cussed out loud to myself. Her eyes pierced me.
We played a silent game, until finally I’d had enough and stomped below deck. I grabbed the closest Vodka, and drank straight from the bottle. This was going to be my friend, while I hunted down a computer.
I knew there was one with Roman.
It seemed like he was cut from the same cloth as his father, Alexie. He should have a laptop somewhere in his room. I could find more information about Isadora. I needed to know what family she belonged to. I wasn’t giving her back, but maybe I could keep her, with a small deal on the side. There was something I couldn’t put my finger on that made me want to know more about her.
Starting with the natural way her white streaks looked in her hair. I thought at first it was dye, but now I was second-guessing that. Maybe it was natural, and I wanted to know how that was possible.
I crept into Roman’s room, satisfied when no one was there. Roman must’ve been with the soldiers, and Valentina was still on the deck with Isadora. My malen'kiy angel . She set my blood on fire. I needed to get her out of my veins.
Know thy enemy; a life lesson that was proven to get me through. I stole the secondary, smaller laptop Roman had sitting on his dresser. He didn’t need two of them. I headed back to my room on the deck below.
I searched through the database, and struggled to find much information on Isadora. Frustrated, I made a call.
“Why are you calling?” Viktor growled into the receiver.
I heard a shy giggle in the background, and his voice dropped into an indescribable murmur.
“I need some information about a girl on the ship.”
“Which one?” He sighed.
“All I have to go on is that her name is Isadora. She’s young-”
“How young, exactly?” Viktor cut off, his voice taking on the strength of his station.
“She’s old enough. Just younger than me. A lot younger.” When I said it out loud, it didn’t sound good.
“What has your interest?” Viktor wasn’t arguing about the job, which was surprising.
“I want to know who she belongs to,” I growled. She should belong to me.
“And once you get that information?” Viktor had many people below him that could run this information for me. It was why I called him.
“I’ll use it to our advantage,” I decided .
“Don’t start a war before negotiations have even begun,” Viktor warned.
“I won’t,” I lied, hanging up the phone. He would have a point of contact soon. Sure enough, not five minutes later, Viktor sent me the name of the hacker who would look into Isadora.
Viktor: Pavel
After his name was given, an air-dropped contact link was sent. I clicked connect immediately.
The phone rang twice before Pavel picked up. His voice was gruff, clipped; like he didn’t appreciate being bothered.
“Who is this?”
I leaned against the railing of the ship, my voice calm but firm. “It’s Benedikt. I’m calling on behalf of Viktor.”
There was a pause, then the sound of a chair creaking. “Viktor? What does Viktor want?”
“He wants nothing. I do. And you owe him a favor.” I let the weight of the lie settle, counting on his hesitation to sell it. No one with half a brain would question a favor tied to the Pakhan.
“Fine,” he muttered. “What do you need?”
“A girl. Young. Late teens, maybe early twenties. Dark hair, blue eyes. Could’ve passed through your circle.” I spoke fast, not giving him room to stall. “Name’s Isadora, she’s important. Don’t ask why.”
Pavel sighed. “That’s not a lot to go on.”
“It’s enough,” I snapped. “You’ll ask around. See who’s seen her.”
Another pause. He wasn’t thrilled, but he would not push back. “I’ll make some calls. Where do I reach you?”
“You don’t. I’ll call again.” I hung up before he could say anything else, gripping the phone tight. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
I shoved my six foot five frame into the air duct system a few hours later, fed up with the lack of information. I needed to do some recon on my own. I crawled slowly, breathing out of my mouth, because of the tight squeeze. I sucked in my chest as I squirmed along.
I had the ship’s schematics memorized.
Isadora was up and to the left.
Not too close and not too far. I didn’t care that I was getting spiderwebs all over my face. Soon, I would see my malen'kiy angel . She would be the light at the end of this dark tunnel.
I didn’t know why I felt the need to see this woman all day every day, but I would not fight it. Not when we were stuck here with fuck all to do. A spider dropped onto my face, right where my eye used to be.
I shoved my hand up and brushed it off me as quickly as I could. I hated fucking spiders.
It was hard to turn left, especially with the width of my shoulders. Not only that, but I had to be silent so no one would detect me. It was a hard struggle to get through the air duct, but I managed.
I was in front of the duct to her bedroom.
She was standing in front of the mirror, playing with her naked breasts. My cock grew aroused as I watched her pick them up, like she was weighing them each in her tiny palms.
Her tiny curvy body turned me on.
She was only wearing a pair of panties. It looked like she was exploring herself. I couldn’t help but shove my hand down to my crotch, and massage my throbbing dick. My face was plastered on the vent as I tried to huff her scent.
I wanted nothing more than to be down there, owning her pleasure, claiming it with my tongue, until she couldn’t think of anyone but me. But she wasn’t ready for that… not yet . My gaze trailed over her body, drinking in every inch of her skin like it belonged to me. A scar ran from her shoulder blade down, and I couldn’t stop the dark smile that tugged at my lips. Every mark, every flaw; it’s mine now .
I wondered where she got that from.
I would have to get it out of her while owning her body, one day when we are together in every sense of the word. I wanted to know more about her. Isadora’s hand traveled down her body, and cupped her panty-covered pussy.
I groaned at the sight.
I could cum just now from watching, but I would rather feel my malen'kiy angel wrapped around me. “What a good girl you are for me,” I whispered in the silence, daydreaming that she was putting on a show right in front of me.
“Ah.” She parted her lips and stuck out her tongue, a silent challenge glinting in her dark blue eyes.
“Dirty girl,” I said, my voice low, carrying just enough of a warning to make her shiver.
She pouted, tilting her head ever so slightly, lashes fluttering like she thought she could soften me with a look. I let my gaze roam her body, slow and deliberate, claiming her with every inch my eye touched. Her skin, dark and flawless, looked like sin against my pale hands, and I couldn’t stop the possessive growl that rumbled in my chest.
I leaned in, pressing a trail of hard, deliberate kisses along her neck and down her collarbone, relishing the way her breathing hitched. She giggled, a teasing sound that made my blood burn, wiggling away like she could escape me.
“Don’t you dare move,” I commanded, my hand gripping her hip to hold her in place. Her laughter faltered, replaced with a look of defiance that I wanted to break and rebuild into something entirely mine.
She slid back onto the dresser, leaning on her elbows as her legs fell open, shameless and inviting. “Please eat me,” she purred, the words dripping from her mouth like honey meant to trap me.
My lips curled into a wicked grin. “With pleasure,” I growled, my voice rough as I moved between her thighs .
I didn’t just touch her; I claimed her, dragging her hips to the edge with a roughness that made her gasp. Her ass fit perfectly in my hands, soft yet firm as I raised her up, tilting her toward my mouth. Her scent hit me, intoxicating and overwhelming, fueling the darker hunger clawing its way to the surface.
Without hesitation, I buried my face between her legs, my nose pressing into her, as my tongue worked her over with fervent intensity. I didn’t just lick or taste; I devoured, dragging my tongue through her folds like I was starving for her. She cried out, her nails digging into my scalp as she clutched at my hair, desperate to hold on to something as I unraveled her.
“Benedikt!” she screamed, her voice raw, my name like a prayer torn from her throat.
I didn’t let up. Her hips bucked, her thighs trembling around my head, as I flicked her clit with relentless precision. The sound of her gasps and pleas was a symphony, and I was the composer, driving her higher, faster, until her body seized. Her cries turned incoherent as she shattered, her release pouring over my face.
I didn’t stop, not until I’d wrung every ounce of pleasure from her, until she was left a trembling, panting mess sprawled across the dresser. I pulled back, my lips slick, my chest heaving. Satisfaction coursed through me as I took in the sight of her, undone and entirely mine.
But my control slipped, just for a moment. The friction of her thighs against my face, the taste of her on my tongue, the sound of her voice had pushed me too far. A growl rumbled low in my throat, as I felt my release spill hot and unbidden, soaking into the fabric of my pants.
I smirked, wiping my face with the back of my hand, before leaning down to press my lips to her trembling thigh. “You’ll clean up the mess you’ve made,” I murmured, dark promise lacing every word.
Panting, I realized that dream had become a reality. I came right in my pants from that fantasy. My overactive imagination ran wild, at the sight of my woman playing with herself .
Isadora was dressed now and lying on the bed. I stayed in the air duct system for a while, watching her exist. How had I lived this long without ever having met her? When the stickiness in my jeans got to be too much, I wiggled backward.
Back the way I had come.
I climbed out of my vent, and took off my clothes immediately. I hopped in the shower and grabbed my soap. As I ran my hand down my body, washing off the sweat and dirt, my cock rose to the occasion.
Greedy little fuck.
Wasn’t orgasming enough, even if it wasn’t in a warm cunt? I grabbed a hold of my cock, and visualized Isadora on her knees for me like a good little girl. She reminded me of my teenage fantasies I had of Rogue from the X-Men. I used to dream of a woman who looked just like her, and Isadora had that in spades. A nerdy man’s fantasy.
I wasn’t sure of her nationality, but her beauty turned me on, so it didn’t matter. I wanted to have my way with her. What was that strange American saying? The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice.
Isadora was a delectable morsel that I wanted to eat whole. Soon she would be mine. Once I knew everything there was to know about her. Sure, I could strike up a conversation, and I would, but I didn’t want her lying to me. Women couldn’t be trusted.