Chapter 19 Allie
ALLIE
Yeah, I’m in way over my head.
Smoke swirls thick in the air of the dim warehouse.
Half a dozen Turkish men with dark hair and darker stares puff on cigars.
None of them seem particularly happy. Pallets and wooden boxes are stacked all around.
The floor is damp from a recent rain. We’re somewhere deep in the heart of the city, and even though Mass has the whole structure surrounded by soldiers, snipers, and infiltrators, I still feel exposed.
Probably because the criminals we’re meeting with either stare at me like I’m a piece of meat hanging from hooks or they ignore me completely.
The meeting takes place in Turkish. I don’t understand a damn thing they’re saying, which makes it really hard for me to help at all.
Lucy’s there and she’s facilitating discussions while Mass leans forward on the table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, looking like a dominant god spending time around poor, pathetic little mortals.
The mood is bad. Everyone's grim. I can tell they’re afraid of Mass and struggling not to show it. Mass, for his part, seems charming but intense. Like one wrong move will make him go ballistic. He’s a caged tiger on the prowl. Beautiful and dangerous.
I’m really happy Rosie’s back at the apartment with Satya.
It’s fascinating watching the conversation flow and the body language of the men as they take their turns speaking.
I can’t understand a single word, but that doesn’t matter.
I get the vibes anyway based on how they’re leaning toward or away from Mass, how they’re glaring at each other, how one flinches when another talks, how this one keeps fidgeting with his belt, and how that one is more interested in his cigar and liquor than in what’s going on around him.
The little cues build up to something bigger.
It’s what I’m good at. What Papa always said was my gift. But because I don’t have a big swinging dick between my legs, I never got the chance to use it.
Now though, all my alarms are blaring.
Mass is busy speaking quietly and directly to one of the men at the far end of the table. He’s only half listening. I lean to the side and tug at Lucy’s shirt to get her attention. She frowns at me like she forgot I was there.
I lean over and whisper in her ear. “The one with the scar on his cheek. I think he’s their leader, right?”
Lucy’s frown deepens. She gives me the slightest nod.
“He hates Mass.”
Her look turns to confusion. Mass keeps talking as she leans over and speaks quietly in my ear. “Mass saved his brother’s life four years ago. Kaan Aslan is as loyal as they get.”
“But he hates Mass. I don’t know why, but he does.”
She considers, twirling a pen between her fingers. We both watch the man she called Kaan listen to Mass with a cold and distant stare. He keeps tapping the table every time Mass says something, fingers drumming over and over like he’s struggling to contain himself.
Lucy’s lips press together. After a few more minutes, she leans over and whispers in Mass’s ear. He glances at me curiously but resumes the conversation a moment later.
I sit back and watch some more. Kaan’s getting more agitated. One of his lieutenants stands up at something Mass just said. I have no idea what or why, but they’re getting upset. Mass seems totally bored by their reaction.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to Lucy.
“I’m not translating for you.” She waves me off, watching intently, and cuts in a few times herself.
Of course her Turkish is impeccable. I bet she speaks a dozen languages and is fantastic in bed too.
Eventually, Kaan slams his fist down on the table and barks a few words.
Silence falls over the room. Echoes die down slowly in the cavernous space.
Kaan stares at Mass before he speaks very quietly.
His body’s tense, his jaw tight, every inch of him screaming hate even if the tone of his voice doesn’t give it away.
Mass abruptly stands. He nods at the assembled group. None of them nod back. Nobody looks happy. But they don’t try to stop him as Mass turns and stalks out, forcing me and Lucy to quickly follow in his wake.
“What happened in there?” I ask once we reach the parking lot. Mass gives me an inscrutable look. “That guy Kaan with the scar on his face. He hates your guts even though Lucy says he’s loyal. What did you say to him?”
Mass holds up a hand. He steers me to his car. We get into the back and leave Lucy to handle final logistics. Once the driver pulls out, Mass turns to study me.
“I threatened him,” he says softly, looking fascinating as he stares at me.
“Kaan’s always been reliable. But Medved’s been causing him problems, and he’s been lashing out.
I couldn’t understand why until now. I saved Kaan’s brother, but in the years since, he’s lost two cousins and countless friends to street fighting.
I suspect he blames me. I’ll have to remove him from power sooner rather than later before he becomes a problem. ”
“I was right.” Excitement slices into my chest. I can’t help but laugh. “You thought he was loyal, and once you realized the truth—”
“I understood how to handle him. The carrot no longer worked. Instead, I used the stick.”
“What did you threaten him with?”
“That isn’t important.”
“Mass—”
“Do you really want to know how evil your husband is?” He touches my cheek. I find it hard to believe that he’s a monster, not when his fingers softly caress my skin. He can be so gentle.
“Yes, I do.”
“I told him that I am going to kill one of his uncles for every day he delays in accepting my terms.”
My heart skips a beat. “Would you really?”
“I’m a Dragon, wife. I don’t make idle threats.”
“How many uncles does he have, anyway?”
He smiles slightly. “Not that many.”
I let what just happened sink in. I helped Mass threaten a criminal into submission.
I should be deeply disturbed by what I just did.
But instead, excitement courses through my veins.
“Here’s hoping his uncles have a very long life,” I say, slightly breathless. My chest rises and falls rapidly as Mass touches my lips with his thumb.
“How did you know?” he asks quietly. “Kaan’s been loyal for a long time. I never considered that might have changed. He’s been listening to Medved and letting his emotions get in the way of our business. I should have seen it sooner. But how did you realize? You don’t even speak the language.”
“I was just watching everyone, and I could tell something was off. It was the way he reacted every time you talked, like…”
“Like he was thinking about cutting my throat.”
“Probably something like that.”
Mass grunts in the back of his throat and leans forward, kissing my neck. “I’m deeply impressed, my wife.”
“Didn’t realize I was so useful?”
“I didn’t know you were half so perceptive.”
“I grew up in a crime family. I had to pick up a few things.”
He takes my hips and roughly pulls me to him. I let out a yelp of surprise and end up straddling him, my tight black jeans stretching over my ass, his hands firm on my body. He leans forward, one hand sliding up into my hair.
“I think you need to come with me to more negotiations.” His grip tightens as he tugs my chin up. His mouth meets mine every so gently. Arousal floods through my core as my heart races.
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s a demand.”
“We’ll have to negotiate my rate.”
He laughs lightly, kissing me again. “I know how I’ll pay you.”
“Are you offering sex? You’re a little too confident.”
“Only because I know what you want. You can read others like their emotions are words on a page. But I can read you.”
Another thrill hammers between my legs as he drags my mouth to his, this time taking me in a deep, blistering kiss.
I lose myself in the heady rush. I just made myself useful in an extremely dangerous and volatile criminal meeting even though I didn’t really know what was going on. I helped Mass with his business. I hoped I could do something but never imagined it would be this important.
And now I’m letting myself get overwhelmed by the moment. I know dimly that I should pull back and gain control over myself, but I can’t seem to make my body react the way I want it to.
Instead, I moan into his kiss and press myself against him. I grind down into his lap, happy to feel him stiffening between my legs.
He reacts like this every time. The second I touch him, the man’s hard as iron, like he can’t help himself.
The most powerful man in the world is weak when it comes to me.
His hands push up my shirt and his mouth finds my breasts.
He kisses my neck and chest, tugs off my bra, and sucks my nipples.
I groan, pushing myself against him harder.
I don’t care if the car rocks wildly. I shimmy out of my jeans before dropping to my knees in front of him, my knees spread, a look of pure fire in his eyes as he lifts his hips and helps me get his slacks off.
I stroke him slowly. His cock is so hard it’s twitching with every beat of his heart. A little bead swells on the tip, and I lean forward to lick it off. He groans, mouth hanging open.
I smile a little. I didn’t know I could do this to him.
“Is that what you like?” I ask, licking again. “Do you like when I taste you?”
“I love it, Allie.”
“You’re so tense. You look like you’re going to explode in my mouth the second I start to suck you.”
“It’s possible.”
“You want that, don’t you? You want my mouth?”
“God, I want it so fucking badly.”
“You want to fuck your wife’s mouth?” I stroke him up and down, pausing only to lick my hand. He moans when I do that. “You’re a dirty man.”
“And you have a filthy fucking tongue.”
“Ah, ah, that’s very bad.” I grip his cock and pout. “I’m talking dirty. Not you.”
He snarls and clamps his mouth closed.
Oh my god, I love that reaction. He’s almost throwing a tantrum. I can tell he’s straining to control himself. He wants to take me right now, but I won’t let him.
He’s mine. All fucking mine.
I lick him again, nice and slow, up and down his tip. I’m edging him. I slip a hand between my knees and stroke myself as I do it.
“I love the way you taste,” I whisper, licking faster. “God, you taste so good, Mass.”
“You’re going to kill me, wife.”
“You won’t die from a little teasing, husband.
” I slip my fingers down the front of my panties and slide them inside myself.
“Oh, that feels good.” I’m soaking wet. I pretend like I’m going to slide him between my lips, but instead, I rock back and put my pussy-soaked fingers in my mouth. “That’s delicious.”
“Fuck,” he snarls, eyes flaring with passion. “Enough.” He grabs me, overcome, and I fling myself at him. We kiss with clicking teeth, hungry lips, and probing tongues as I get back into his lap. He guides himself against my aching lips and spreads me wide as he plunges his cock deep inside.
“Oh my god,” I moan as he fills me. Mass is enormous. He’s thick and so hard it’s unreal. I’ve never felt so overflowing before in my life, at least not since the last time he was inside me.
I grind down, but Mass is eager and unable to contain himself.
He slams into me, again and again, one hand grabbing my throat as he fucks me like a demon.
I take him, moaning and sweating as he fills me to the brim, whispering my name, calling me his angel, his wife, his pleasure, his perfection.
Every sweet word makes my bliss that much more intense.
He bites my nipples, slaps my ass, licks my tongue, and tells me I’m his filthy slut.
“You’ll ride me until you’re broken, little paradise.
You’ll take my thick cock and I’ll ruin you.
Every inch of your soaking pussy will be claimed by me and will only ever be mine.
You’ll break for me, baby. You’ll beg me to do it all again. ”
“Please,” I moan, heady and wild. “Please, Mass, please.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for. I feel too good. I’m riding on the edge, and all I want to do is fall into darkness and heaven.
“That’s it, baby.” He hits the right spot, over and over. “I want to see you come. Take me and let me fill you. I can’t live without it, baby, please.”
It’s that last, shuddering, masculine growl of a word that finally shatters me.
I come so hard I nearly black out. Every muscle strains, every fiber of my skin screams his name, Mass, Mass, Mass, or maybe that’s my moaning, my chanting, my singing his praises, because my god, his cock destroys me, and I hate him for it, but I also love him and worship him and need more from him, until he’s pumping inside of me too, finishing with a low and out-of-control growl.
I stay like that for a little while, spent and twitching, his cock still inside of me. He softens, but not all the way. I feel him there, heavy and filling, until finally, I get off and collapse onto the seat. His massive palm holds onto my thigh possessively.
“Where are we right now?” I manage to ask, blinking at the dark tinted windows.
“I have no idea. I told the driver to circle the block until we’re finished.”
Horror hits me. “He knows what we’ve been doing back here?”
“It’s not subtle.”
“Mass!”
“He doesn’t care. Loyal to death.”
“That’s what you thought about Kaan!”
He frowns slightly. “My driver is also very well paid.”
I groan and pull on my clothes. “We have to stop doing this in cars!”
“Then we’ll do it at home.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“You don’t want me to fuck you in our marriage bed?”
I open my mouth to tell him that we’re not really married, that he kidnapped me, that I’m a prisoner—
But nothing comes out.
Because honestly?
Yeah, I kind of do want him to fuck me in our marriage bed.
That sounds kind of great right now.
“Just no more cars,” I mumble, mortified, horny, and very confused.