23. Valentin
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
VALENTIN
I spit, mustering every ounce of energy I have left, and launch myself forward, delivering a solid blow to Daniel’s jaw. He stumbles into the crowd, his feet slipping out from under him, and crashes to the ground.
Fuck that felt good.
I extend my hand, and he grips it as I pull him back up.
He pauses, his eyes shifting between mine. “Someone’s pissed off this morning.”
I shrug, a grin spreading across my face. “The old man’s still got what it takes!”
“Maybe,” he laughs, helping me cut the tape off my knuckles.
I inspect my cuts on the left hand, making fists and then relaxing them again. “Are you sure you’re not just going easy on me?”
Dropping his grin, he glances down at his feet before looking back up. “I can’t afford any more problems.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I didn’t know we were fighting.”
“It’s not like you listen to me anyway,” he smirks and steps closer. “I heard the girl is living here now.”
I don’t bother making up a lie. I have a feeling he knows more than he’s letting on. “Sort of.”
“Nyx called me. He told me Petrov is in town.”
“He came for Lexi last night.” I snap, a hollow feeling settling in my stomach. “That fucking dead motherfucker!”
“Is there anything I can help with?” he asks, concern in his eyes.
The last time we spoke, he was very clear about his disdain for Lexi.
“I figured you’d be eager for your chance to kill her too,” I scoff, but it’s far from a joke.
“I think this whole situation between you two is twisted,” Daniel says, scratching the side of his face. “But you seem happier.”
I glance at the bruise forming under his eyes and gesture toward it. “Does that look like I’m happy to you?”
He runs his fingers over the dark skin beneath his eyes. “I’m talking about in general, not just this morning.”
“Thanks, son,” I said earnestly. ‘Cause he’s right. I am happy.
Other than the obvious banging body and her fuck the world attitude, there’s something about her that screams at something deep inside me. Could it be that I’m discovering true love for the very first time at fifty?
Daniel grabs his bag from the ground, throws the straps over his shoulder, and begins to walk out. With a playful grin, he adds, “So that you know, I won’t be calling her ‘Mom.’” His words make me laugh a little, easing the tension in the air.
My heart falls into rhythm, the pulsing in my temple no longer a result of the overwhelming anger I felt earlier. Restless and unable to sleep, I paced the room, the sound of my footsteps jarring her from a troubled slumber as silent screams turned into muffled whispers of fear.
For hours, I held her tightly, and when her sleep finally became serene again, I descended to this quiet space to savor my Scotch and plot all the ways I want to make that bastard pay.
Petrov. He’s already dug a hole. I’m going to bury him.
Daniel suggested that a sparring match could help, and he was spot on. Now that I can breathe easily again, I dash up the stairs without hesitating. I can hear her huffing sounds from the room. She’s awake.
I reach the bedroom door and shove it open. Lexi is standing there, a thin white towel clinging low on her chest. Water drips from her hair, sliding down her bare shoulders and gliding along the curve of her collarbone.
She stops when she sees me, her lips parting slightly in that seductive way I love so much, my breath catching. And for one long, burning second, everything else disappears, fading to oblivion.
Damn, she looks good—wet and fuckable.
I grab her towel and toss it aside, her olive skin shimmering from the shower, fully open to my gaze. I take in her figure boldly, my heart racing as her cheeks turn a warm pink, the color spreading delightfully down to her chest.
I can’t help but let my gaze drop lower, to where her towel is resting on her thighs, the sharp aroma of her berry body wash drawing me in.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. I can feel her shivering as my thumb glides across her cheek, slowly.
“You’re so breathtaking,” I murmur, leaning in, my lips brushing against the curve of her ear.
My fingers drift lower, trailing along the edge of her jaw until they come to rest lightly at the base of her neck, right over the fluttering pulse that gives her away.
Gripping the cotton fabric, I tear it off her body.
“Valentin!” she shrieks, a playful laugh escaping her.
“I can’t help myself.” I plant a kiss on her cheek, her back arching gracefully as I reach for her collarbone.
There’s a loud rumble from her stomach that almost kills the mood. Almost. That body of hers has had my cock constantly hard since the minute I met her.
She smiles, slightly bashful, “I’m starving.”
I give her a hard slap on the ass. “Alright, let’s get you something to eat.”
She picks up my shirt from the chair where I tossed it the night before and pulls it on, fastening a few buttons before slipping into a pair of elegant white lace panties.
I raise an eyebrow. “Remember what I said about wearing underwear?”
She rolls her eyes and quickly takes them off. “Now that’s more like it,” I say with a grin.
I take her hand and guide her into the dining room, where my chef is busy crafting a delicious breakfast for us.
“Is the food ready?” I ask.
“Yes, Brigadier,” the chef responds, a bright smile gracing her face as she pours fresh orange juice into a glass.
My chef has been with me for years, yet since my wife passed away, my need for her cooking has almost diminished.
Now, she mainly prepares lunch for the guys in the warehouse downstairs to keep herself busy.
I pay her generously, which is why she remains with me, even if her days are less fulfilling.
So, this morning, she was more than excited when I asked her to cook breakfast.
“Sit,” I invite Lexi, pulling out a chair at the beautifully set dining table. Just then, the chef arrives at the perfect moment, presenting a delicious plate of food.
Pouring myself a glass of Scotch, I settle in at the head of the table, my gaze unwaveringly fixed on her, soaking her in.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks, observing me declining the chef’s offer as she tries to serve me a plate.
“No. I plan to eat later,” I respond.
“You don’t like breakfast?” she asks, picking up her fork.
A delighted smile spreads across her face, her cheeks warming with pleasure, and a soft moan slips from her lips when she takes the first bite.
“I’m hungry for something different.” He dips his head down to my exposed thigh. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks as she comprehends that my appetite is directed toward her.
“What if what you want isn’t on the menu?” Her lips curve into a playful grin.
“You’re on the menu when I say you are. Krasotka, you’re mine. I’ll eat you whenever I choose to.”
I notice her picking up the pace with her meal after my comment, her crossed legs tight as she focuses on each bite. When she finally finishes, the chef steps in to clear the table, then I dismiss her for the day. Now, with the distraction gone, it’s my turn to eat.
“Come here,” I order her, pushing my chair away from the table.
She wipes her lips with a napkin and places it on the table before slowly approaching me. I can’t help but stare at her bare thighs, the edge of my shirt barely covering her past the waist. When she stops, her thigh brushes against my knee, and my cock pulses at the slight touch.
With a gentle nudge, I guide her back against the table, and she whispers not so quietly, “Ready for a little taste, Daddy?” Holding her waist, I effortlessly lift her onto the surface.
As I hold her legs, I arrange her feet to rest on either side of my chair. Spreading her thighs apart, I lean in closer and blow softly against her pussy.
“Valentin,” she squeals, a mix of laughter and moaning in her voice.
Sitting up, I stare at her pretty face and hot body. Everything about Lexi makes a man’s cock hard. “Take off my shirt.”
“You like to watch me get naked, don’t you?” She undoes the buttons of my shirt, letting it fall to the floor, revealing the soft skin of her breasts.
She’s such a beautiful sight, pretty and very fuckable.
I appreciate every part of Lexi, whether she’s dressed or nude, and I find her absolutely perfect for me in every way.
I find myself positioned between her thighs as she leans closer, pressing her lips softly against mine. A moan escapes me, all my muscles unwinding under her touch.
“I’m starving,” I murmur, my voice low and teasing. “If you’re a good girl, I might let you come in my mouth.”
She wraps her legs around my waist, admiring her pretty pink pussy.
Her back arches off the table as I kiss the inside of her thigh, soft and slow, the stubble on my chin rough against her inner thighs.
She rocks her hips against my mouth, whimpering when my tongue slides down to lap her folds. A sharp cry escapes her as I suck hard, my tongue drawing lazy, controlled circles.
I slide a finger inside her, then another, pumping slow and deep, curling my fingers just enough to make her knees buckle.
“Valentin!”
“I want you dripping wet before I fuck your little cunt,” I say, dragging my tongue back up to flick her clit.
My fingers keep moving, my mouth never stops, as I feel her unraveling.
She cries out, and I lick her pussy juices, darting my tongue in and out of her a few more times to feel her shake under me. Her breaths are sharp and ragged, then a warm rush floods my core, and a smile spreads across my face.
I unzip my pants and wrap my hand around my cock, stroking it until precum is copiously oozing down my fingers.
Lexi pushes me off her, and I tumble back into my chair, a look of stunned surprise on my face. In an unexpected move, she straddles me. Her eyes find mine, and she whimpers, “Brigadier.”
“Yes, Lexi.” My tongue flicks her nipple while I’m palming her breast.
“It’s my turn to fuck you,” she says before lifting her ass, allowing my cock to enter her slowly.
My hands weave through her hair, gripping it firmly, anchoring myself.