Chapter 17
Kirill
To much of my woman’s disgruntlement, I spend the rest of the night fucking her nice and slow.
Stella, being the eager, greedy little troublemaker that she is, gets antsy for the big event, forgoing the slow foreplay I have in mind.
What she clearly forgets is that she was shot a few days ago, so caution and delicateness are paramount.
Once I’m sure she can take it without hurting herself, then we can amp things up and play a little rougher.
Until then, slow and steady wins the race.
And with my girl lying naked on top of me, I’ve never felt more like a winner than I do at this very moment.
“I don’t think your brother likes me too much,” she whispers, as her finger traces the inked spider web on my chest.
“Don’t take it personally. Sasha doesn’t like most people.”
“I wasn’t talking about him. I meant Misha.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” She lets out a sigh.
“He’s just… he’s just being…”
“The Pakhan?” she finishes for me as she places her chin on my chest, those emerald eyes staring at me just like I used to fantasize about.
I place a strand of her hair behind her ear and smile tenderly. “He’s on edge. I wouldn’t think too much of it.”
“Why is he on edge? Is it because of Elena?” she asks, her fingers softly trailing up my chest until they find the faint dents of her teeth on my shoulder—the same shoulder she bit into when I was desperately trying to save her life.
Before answering her question, I gently pull her wrist to my lips and place a tender kiss on it.
“Aside from the daily stress that comes with the job, Elena’s illness definitely complicates things. And your father calling him every hour for updates, wanting to know when his kids will return home, doesn’t help either.”
“I’m pretty sure those calls are more my mother’s doing than my father’s,” she shrugs. “Sure, Dad’s worried about Lucky and me being all this way from home, but my mom must be freaking out knowing that… well…”
“You got shot on my watch,” I say, finishing her sentence for her this time.
“Yeah,” she frowns. “This is probably her worst nightmare come true. That one of her kids got hurt because of Outfit business.”
“You getting shot had nothing to do with your family’s business or mine.
Getting Kira back was personal. I’m the one who messed that up by trusting the wrong people, and you got caught in the crosshairs of that mistake.
Once you explain that to her, maybe she’ll understand that sometimes in life, shit happens. ”
“Is that what we’re calling me getting shot now? Shit just happening?” she teases, but I don’t find any of this funny.
“Can we talk about something else?” I ask, because any conversation about her shooting ties my stomach in knots.
“How about we don’t talk at all?” she coos, a flirty glint in her eye.
“Oh? What do you have in mind?” I counter, finding my smile as my hand glides up and down her spine.
“I might have a few ideas,” she taunts, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses across my chest, slowly making her way down to my navel.
“Careful,” I groan, my cock instantly hardening by the proximity of her mouth. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Shh, Kill,” she silences. “The only one doing the hurting here is me.”
Stella’s hand wraps itself around the girth of my cock, giving me a good, languid stroke before her tongue sweeps over its crown. My eyelids fall of their own accord as her hot breath around me, teases me with promises yet to come.
“Stella,” I growl when she keeps stroking me in her hand, using her tongue just to taunt me, licking at the vein and grabbing my balls in her other hand, giving them a good little squeeze.
“Talk to me, Kill,” she says, eyes fixed on mine as her lips hover over my mouth. “In Russian.”
“Blyad,” I curse. “Ya toskúyu po tebé. Ya zházhdu tebya.”
Even though she has no idea what I just said—that I ache and crave for her—my words must please her, since she ends my suffering only to cause me further misery when she takes my cock into her mouth.
A loud curse leaves my lips as my hand grabs her hair, wrapping it around my wrist just to make sure that I don’t miss even a second of seeing this. Stella sucking me off will forever be branded into my memory.
“Ty seychas vyglyadish’ chertovski krasivo. Eti pukhlyye guby, vysasyvayushchiye menya dosukha, luchsheye chuvstvo, kotoroye ya kogda-libo ispytyval.”
She moans at my words of praise, tightening her grip on my base while relaxing her throat so she can take me all in.
I can’t take my eyes off her, as she gives herself to the experience, letting it be the center of her world.
My cock becomes steel, hardening with every little pleased moan she lets out, the vibration of her moans only increasing my desire for her.
“Ya mog by smotret’ na tebya tak vsyu ostavshuyusya zhizn.”
It’s strangely liberating to speak in my native tongue, to finally say everything that has been lodged in my throat, too afraid that my truth might send her running. But if talking in Russian turns my girl on, then who am I to deny her?
Ya lyublyu tebya. Lyublyu tebya sil’neye, chem kogda-libo mog sebe predstavit’. I to, chto ty pozvolyayesh’ mne lyubit’ tebya v otvet, delayet menya samym schastlivym chelovekom na svete. Yesli eta noch’, vso, chto u menya yest’, to ya molyus’, chtoby solntse nikogda ne vzoshlo utrom.
I tell her that I love her. I tell her that I love her more than I ever thought possible. And the fact that she’s letting me love her back makes me the happiest man alive. If this night is all I have, then I pray the sun never rises in the morning.
But not being able to tell her all these words of love and devotion in a way she can understand tightens something in my chest. But for now, they are enough. They have to be.
Stella’s eyelashes flutter as her greedy mouth pulls me all the way to the back, the head of my cock tickling her throat.
She’s good. She’s really fucking good at this.
Images of her on her knees for her past lovers come to mind, my hands fisting the bedsheet with rage that someone taught her all these moves. Someone who wasn’t me.
However, just as my blinding jealousy threatens to ruin the moment, Stella lets my cock out of her mouth with a loud pop, her eyes hooded with unbridled lust. She doesn’t wait for permission as she straddles my hips, leading my cock right to her core.
And in one punishing thrust, she slides down its length, her good arm outstretched to keep her hand on my stomach for balance.
My hands grip her ass cheeks as she rolls her hips up and down my mast, taking her pleasure from me, as she sees fit.
She’s good at this too.
Too fucking good.
“How many men have you let fuck you like this?” I growl, having officially lost my goddamn mind, my fingers digging into her flesh as I begin to slam my cock into her.
“What?” she moans, loving the torture.
“I asked how many men have you been with, dusha moya?”
“Why? So you can kill them?” she taunts on a wanton moan.
“Yes.”
A little smug curve her lips as her tight pussy slides down my length until it swallows me to the very hilt.
“You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Blyad!” I curse as her pussy starts to clench around me. “There was Alina, who took my virginity at fifteen. Then Svetlana and her cousin at sixteen.”
“Are you really going to list all the women you’ve been with?” She lets out a giggle, followed by a strangled sob when my cock hits that spot she likes.
“If that gives me my kill list, then yes,” I growl, releasing one hand from her ass cheek to cup her breast and give it a tight squeeze before pinching her hard nipple.
“Kill,” she wails, her head falling back in utter ecstasy.
I shoot out my hand to her throat, pulling her eyes back on mine.
“Names, Stella! Those fuckers have lived long enough.” As she refuses to give me any names, I continue on with my own list. “There was Tatyana at eighteen. Followed by Irina. Also, a cute little blond who I didn’t even bother to get a name from that summer, too. ”
Stella launches forward, and this time it’s her hands that are wrapped around my neck, pressing on my windpipes hard. “Say another name, and it will be your last.” A warm glow fills my chest at the jealousy in her eyes.
“Why do you care?” I rasp, slapping her ass for good measure.
She bites down on her lip, still fucking me senseless, before the green in her eyes clashes with mine.
“Do they all live in Moscow? Where can I find them?” she seethes, our lovefest turning sinfully aggressive, as if we needed to punish each other for not waiting for one another.
“Why? Are you going to kill them?”
“Yes,” she deadpans.
With that vow falling from her lips, I flip us around until I’m on top.
“Good. Kill them all. I couldn’t care less. Because this,” I say before slapping her pussy, causing her to pant out instantly, “is all the pussy I’ll ever need for the rest of my days.”
Stella’s eyes molten at the promise, her hands still on my throat, unwilling to release her hold on me. If only she knew that her hold transcends the physical. It’s not only my body that is hers—it’s my heart and soul too.
“Open your mouth, dusha moya. Let me claim one of your firsts, at least,” I say before spitting in her mouth.
Stella’s eyes widen at the depravity of it, but the way her pussy clenches around my cock, blinding me in a way that defies all imagination, tells me it turned her on more than she was ready for.
“That’s right, baby,” I say in plain fucking English now, so she understands every last word.
“You might have had boys play with what’s mine in the past, but now, your man has staked his claim on what was always his to begin with.
From here on out, you belong to me. This pussy belongs to me. Understood?”