Chapter Twenty-Five #3
A moment passed between us, and then he said with a wicked smile, “Watching you come undone when I release this.”
“How?”
He released the muting pressure, and pleasure exploded between my legs as I convulsed with my orgasm. I writhed and twitched, and my pussy contracted around Axel, multiplying the pleasure.
“Christ,” he gritted out, and then his arms were around my waist and he was pumping up into me hard once, twice. I clung to him as he lifted me with each thrust, and then with a violent cry he bucked his release, hot and deep inside of me.
We didn’t speak. We just lay there, holding each other in the aftermath of our feral connection.
I had never felt safer or more cared for in my life.
When I woke up, he was carrying me upstairs.
“What’s going on?” I asked sleepily.
“Round two. My turn.”
The next afternoon, Anton and I sat in silence at the dining room table, working. He was using Axel’s glue gun to apply all the faux fur pieces to the fur balls. I was sitting across from him and working on the most intricate pieces, the Santa balls.
Bandit, who’d been asleep on his side, suddenly sat up and cocked his head toward the ceiling. I paused and listened but heard nothing.
“What’s up, Bandit?”
“What?” Anton was still focused on his ball.
“Bandit’s acting weird.”
He glanced at Bandit, who was listening intently at the ceiling. That made Anton stop and listen too.
Neither of us could hear anything, but Bandit kept staring at the ceiling.
Creak.
It was soft, but I heard something above our heads. Anton also heard it, because he quietly put down his stuff and motioned for me to hold on to Bandit while he went upstairs.
“Be careful,” I whispered, as I grabbed Bandit’s collar.
“Stay here.”
I watched in pounding silence while Anton crept up the stairs and disappeared from sight.
There was a tremendous crash and thump from upstairs, and then nothing. Bandit whined softly and licked his lips.
I walked to the bottom of the steps, still holding on to Bandit’s collar.
A huge man with a beard appeared at the top of the landing. Bandit immediately lost his mind, barking and lunging toward the staircase, which only slowed me down as I tried to move back into the kitchen.
“Anton!” I screamed, as I worked to drag Bandit away from the man.
He just kept coming. We had barely reached the kitchen and the man was already backing us into the living room.
I was half crying as I yelled at him over Bandit’s wild barking. “Who are you? Where’s Anton? Did you kill him?”
He grabbed Bandit by the collar and, ignoring my screams, dragged him out of the kitchen.
I hit the man as hard as I could on his back but he didn’t stop until he had shoved Bandit outside and pulled the door shut.
I only got two steps before he grabbed me, twisted me around and pushed my torso against the island with my hands behind my back.
I could feel my shoulder extend with a dangerous amount of tension. It hurt so bad I couldn’t even scream.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Axel’s voice commanded from behind us.
The intruder let out a guttural laugh and then shoved me aside.
I scrambled behind the island and watched as they began to circle each other like big dogs.
Then the man lunged. It was a flurry of fists, hits and terrifying violence.
They were both exceptional fighters, and anything within reach became a weapon.
I ducked and moved away in horror as pots, knives, and even Jordan’s heavy wooden cutting block were used in their attempts to inflict damage.
I spent most of the fight trying to get out of their way. I tried to exit out to the patio to get to Bandit, but they crashed the table against the doors.
I screamed and scrambled into the dining room.
They followed, crashing through the open bookshelf wall, sending shelves, books and glass decorations flying toward me.
I crouched behind the settee while the man pulled the television off the wall and heaved it toward Axel. I saw something that looked like a gun go flying and then get kicked under the coffee table, but then they both crashed on top of the table, with the assailant landing on Axel.
They both staggered to their feet, and the attacker managed to swing at Axel with a heavy book.
Axel did a high kick that pushed him back, crashing him into the wire tree.
The man stood up with a roar, the bent frame still stuck to his muscular arm.
He was still fighting to get that off when Axel hit him with our quartz table lamp.
Somehow the guy managed to duck out of the way and plow into Axel. They both landed on our craft assembly line in an explosion of partially decorated felt balls, sparkles and faux fur.
The man tried to wrap one of the glue gun cords around Axel’s neck, but Axel threw him backward against the table end and the massive lamp that sat on top of it. Everything shattered and flew under his weight.
Outside, Bandit was barking like his life depended on it.
I scrambled around them, trying to stay out of the way.
Axel climbed on top of the intruder and started swinging.
The heavy thuds of his fist connecting with the man’s face reverberated in the suddenly quiet room.
I turned away, my hands over my mouth. Something moved in my peripheral.
“What the hell is going on in here?” My uncle’s voice boomed across the room.
Grisha and Lena were standing in the doorway of the living room.
Axel stopped swinging.
I stood there in shock, and my stomach immediately dropped. What are they doing here?
“My god, what a disaster this place is,” my Aunt Lena exclaimed, looking around my freshly ruined front room.
The big mirror was shattered, and the front of the gas fireplace was cracked. The floor was littered with glass and craft supplies. Three plants were spilled, and furniture was splintered.
The wire tree was bent in half and mangled beyond shape. How many tree decorating hours had we lost in this fight?
Everything was ruined. Only the antique drink cart had miraculously escaped the carnage.
Axel, breathing hard, stood up and stepped away from the man’s horizontal form on the floor. “Grisha.”
“Get on your goddamned feet,” my uncle snarled at the guy.
Axel looked steaming mad. His cheek was cut and bleeding, and he was covered in sprinkles and bits of faux fur.
The guy struggled to get to his feet. He was also bleeding from multiple places on his face, including his ear.
He smiled at me wide, showing me a mouthful of blood.
He must have rolled on the snowman balls that Anton had been gluing, because he was starting to look like an ugly Christmas sweater.
He was something straight out of a Christmas horror.
“Don’t look at her,” Axel warned him.
The guy shrugged at my uncle and spoke in Russian. “She was grabbing my dick like a little slut, and that’s the moment he walked in. Wasn’t my fault she’s as horny as the town whore.”
“Shut your mouth.” Axel’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Make me.” His smile, with his red bloody teeth, gave him a ghoulish look.
I walked over to the middle of the living room as glass and broken Styrofoam crunched beneath my slippers. I bent and picked up the forgotten police Taser.
“You look at her again and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“Big words for such a little man,” the man taunted. “Maybe your wife wants to know what a real dick feels like.”
“That’s enough,” my uncle said, with little effect. “Are you part of the Volkov family?”
“This is only the start of payback for the little stunt your man pulled at the bar. We’ve got a lot more things coming your way.”
“You come at me again, and I won’t restrain myself,” Axel warned coldly.
The Taser felt weighty in my hand, but the plastic was cool to the touch. I pressed the power button and a red laser dot moved on the floor.
“This is exactly why I wanted to put Sergei in charge,” my uncle complained. “We need to make a statement and eliminate this one. Prove to them we mean business.”
No one was even looking toward me.
“The last thing we need is to make a statement,” Axel told my uncle.
I raised the Taser and pointed it at the man. It wavered, like a cat laser toy, on the middle of his torso.
“You need to finish him so he can become the lesson they all need to learn.”
I squeezed the trigger, and the weapon crackled in my hands. There was a snapping sound and a second later, the man was jerking violently on his feet before he fell backward, crashing through the one piece of furniture that had remained intact, the antique silver drink cart.
There was a tremendous crash, as he toppled over it, and glasses and Axel’s expensive scotch crashed to the floor. The trespasser’s body locked in an uncomfortable contorted arch before he collapsed backward in a heap.
He groaned heavily.
Then, the only sound in the room was the crunch of glass as he rolled over onto his side. Saliva streamed from his slack lips.
“This is absolutely unacceptable,” my aunt hissed into the silence.
Axel turned and looked at me with genuine shock on his face.
And then my uncle started to laugh, until his mirth was echoing through the room.
Axel pulled a zip tie out of his pocket and secured the guy’s hands behind his back before he crossed the room toward me. He was bleeding, and his lip was already swelling. His eye looked sore too. He gently pried the Taser from my numb fingers and tossed it on the floor.
“Come on.” He took my hand. Without speaking to my aunt and uncle, he gently led me up to his bedroom.
“Bandit,” I pleaded. “He must be terrified outside.”
“I’ll go get him,” he soothed. “Why don’t you sit down on the bed?”
“What about Anton?” I cried, belatedly remembering that he had disappeared upstairs and not come down.
“I’ll go check on him too. Stay here.”
And then he was gone.