Chapter Twenty-Six
In which it is time for the darkest deed of all.
Andrey…
I should have cleaned up before I came back to the penthouse. There are a dozen places between Marshall's blood-soaked bedroom and home. Safe houses, my office at Morozov Global. Roman's sex club has dozens of discreet shower options.
Driving past them all, I don't stop until I'm in my private parking garage. I leave my gear in the car, texting Trofim.
Andrey: Clean out the company car at my place. It might need to be hosed down.
Trofim: Thank fuck it's this, Your Justice, and not following you around another law association lunch. Though I feel like you should have brought me along on this mission. You ignored my professional advice.
Andrey: I always ignore your professional advice. Be happy you're not breaking out in hives.
I pull up the security feed for the penthouse on my phone as the elevator doors open, checking for Iris's location. She's in bed. There’s a little mountain of blankets, she must have burrowed under them again.
My wife is asleep so there is no need to be careful.
I pull off my boots and bloody jeans, the denim already getting stiff, and discard my boxer briefs.
I leave the balaclava up over the lower half of my face.
I'm not ready yet to let go of the night.
Naked, I roll my head, stretching my arms out until the joints creak as I walk to the windows.
The snarling wolf tattoo on my chest throbs, the lines of Cyrillic script on my arms are twisting like snakes under my skin.
Another line will be tattooed next to them tomorrow.
It's the same sound as before, in that alley outside Norris's club. A horrified inhalation of breath, a strangled sound that's holding back a scream.
Iris is standing in the living room. She must have fallen asleep on the couch instead of under that little pile of blankets on our bed. Her figure is dark against the lights shining in the wall of windows from the city. But the low illumination from a table lamp shows her enormous eyes. Her horror.
"You're him."
I know what she sees when she looks at me.
A naked, 6"6 monster with an explosion of ink all over my body, my skin sprayed with blood and a couple of other things I'm not examining too closely.
Eyes glittering, I take a step toward her.
I should say something comforting like, "Let me explain.
" Or perhaps, "It's not what it looks like. "
Before I can craft something, she breaks, bolting with the agility of a deer on steroids.
I tear after her, down the hallway, up the staircase to the second floor.
Iris pauses, panting and when I lope up the stairs after her, she shrieks, racing toward the door leading to the roof.
There are so many places for her to hide up there.
She fights frantically with the lock on the door as I take the stairs three at a time. So close.
"I won't tell anyone!" she screams over her shoulder. "Sp- spouses can't testify against each other, remember?" She rips the door open and tears up the next round of stairs as her words, "Just don't kill meeee…" trail behind her.
My malen'kiy tsvetok, it's like she doesn't know me at all.
Stretching my legs I’m after her, chuckling gutturally, close enough to smell the citrusy scent of her terror.
A late spring wind is howling around the building, ruffling through my hair and drying the sweat on my body.
Fuck, I have never felt more alive than in this moment.
There's a faint screeching sound, she's over by the iron gating on the lower terrace. I dart in that direction and then feint to the left. I know that's the direction she'll take, but when I step into the path to block her escape, she's not there.
Iris is always more cunning than I give her credit for.
Closing my eyes and tilting my head back, I listen to the wind, the faint sound of traffic. There it is, her light footsteps going up the next set of stairs to the elevated area that holds the swimming pool and the ice bath.
Ah. Clever girl, there's a fire escape on the east side. Steel doors are bolted shut on each landing; the biometric lock, though, is calibrated for her handprint now as well.
Racing to the opposite corner, I leap up on the ledge of the building, then haul myself hand over hand against the rough brick and granite to the platform. The pool is a shimmering blue, moving and alive under the moonlight. Her slim, pale reflection is wavering at the other end, like a ghost.
"Andrey, you cut this shit out!" Her voice is shaking. "I'll fucking scream, I swear it! It's going to be hard to explain to the police why your wife is screaming her lungs out on the roof!"
Now I laugh, more like a roar, filling my lungs with the wind and salt air from the harbor and chlorine from the pool.
"Oh, darling," I call. "They've heard so much worse.
" My long legs eat up space between us and she gets only one foot onto the fire escape steps before my arms wrap around her middle and I'm yanking her back.
Iris is a fighter. I've always admired that about her.
Kicking and screaming before she fastens her teeth into my arm, breaking the skin.
Shit, I'm still covered in that stupid bastard's blood.
I take two steps and drop us in the deep end of the pool, washing away the sins from earlier and preparing her for the one I'm about to commit.
Her shriek is muffled in the splash and we sink for a moment, bubbles floating up between us and our eyes open, staring at each other.
Kicking to the surface, I press her between me and the tiled wall of the pool. Her hair's slicked back, her pupils are flared, leaving a thin ring of amber around them like a perfect eclipse.
"Your eyes are black," she says. "Black like the pits of Hell." Her hand runs over my face and I realize she's washing away the last of the blood there.
Slamming my lips down on hers, it's less of a kiss, more of a mauling. My hand goes behind her head so she doesn't hit it on the tile and I groan. Her mouth is so warm, she tastes like oranges and wine. I'm crushing her soft body, pressed into my harder one.
"Are you going to fuck me and then kill me?" She's trying for bravado but I can hear the tremor in her voice.
"I'm going to fuck you half to death." I bite her shoulder.
"Then, we'll see." My knees press into her thighs, spreading them painfully wide.
She's wearing sleep shorts that rip like paper, floating away as I drive two fingers inside her.
Yebat' menya, the silky walls of her cunt grip my fingers tight.
I drive them in and out of her, watching the shock and lust blaze in her eyes.
Her hands are running over my shoulders, down my back, digging in her sharp little nails when I hit an especially sensitive spot inside her.
I've learned them all; mapped her moans and cries, located what will make her muscles lock down and what makes her scream and wrap her arms and legs around me.
Gripping her breast with my free hand, I squeeze it greedily, tugging on her nipple.
Her knees snap together when I do that, as if there's a direct line from her nipple to her clit.
"Y- you're covered in blood," she wheezes.
"Then you- oh, fuck! Then you chase me through the house like a psychopath.
Are you a serial killer?" Her voice goes up to a scream on that last word as I scrape my fingernails against her G-spot.
"I knew it was you I saw that night, I tried to pretend that it couldn't be, but-"
Twisting my hand, keeping my fingers buried in her cunt, I shove my thumb up her ass and my sweet little wife loses the power of speech.
After her first shuddering orgasm, I lift her easily onto the side of the pool, wrapping my arms around her thighs to keep them spread and drive my tongue inside her.
"There's nothing sweeter," I growl against her pussy, "than you when you've just come.
" There's a mindless sort of bliss when I’m tongue-fucking my malen'kiy tsvetok, her tight, clenching channel, how her soft lips swell and that pert little clit that goes off like C4 when I fasten my teeth around it.
I bite it gently, though, while her back is arching and her hands sliding into my hair.
Sucking it first, drawing the so painfully sensitive little bundle of flesh into my mouth and then…
putting it between my teeth, not a cruel bite, just hard enough to hold it there while I lash it with my tongue.
Iris sucks in a deep breath and nearly chokes on it when she comes again.
Bracing with my arms, I push out of the water, hovering over her. Her silk tank top is already torn and it takes nothing to tug it loose and throw it in the pool with her shorts. I straddle her, rubbing my cock over her clit. I'm hard, harder than granite and I grit my teeth.
"I've never fucked anyone when I’m like this," I warn, still rubbing between her wet slit. "I'm not… right."
"Like you're crazy and you kill people?" Iris asks. There's still a tremor in her voice, but she's digging her heels into my ass.
"I like hurting you," I grit out. "But not like this."
My wife's hand slides down, squeezing along my throbbing, sticky shaft and pulls it to her entrance. I can feel the silky opening, waiting to pull my cock inside.
"I want to pound the living fuck out of you, split you in half." I kiss her hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood. "Make you scream and ache, make you feel where I've been every time you take a step."
Iris pauses for a moment, her hand still gripping my cock, staring up at me. Something flickers in her eyes then. Something dark, like me. "Maybe you will fuck me to death."
Plunging inside her, I make it halfway before she squeezes too tightly.
Drawing back, I slam in harder. "So good, you filthy little slut.
My slut." Her pussy's fluttering around me and she gasps out, like I've pushed aside everything inside her to make room for my cock.
Digging my toes into the pool tile, I shove harder and she cries out.
"Too much?" I lick a streak up her neck and bite her chin.
"You wanted it, greedy girl, you knew it was going to hurt. "
"Fuh- fucking bastard-" she manages, tits bouncing madly as I rut into her. I push her knee aside, opening her up to me and watch my slick cock shoving in and out, I see how wide I've stretched her, her strained opening, and the sight nearly ends me.
"Do you want to see how deep I am in you?
" Sliding my arm under the small of her back, I yank it up into an arch and press the heel of my hand just under her belly button.
"Here." I’m pushing harder as my eyes roll back in my head.
"I can feel myself inside you, shoving through that tight, gripping cunt. "
Iris puts her hand over mine, and I move it, pressing her fingers against the smooth line of her stomach. Her amber eyes burn like an explosion of heat. "That's- You're in my throat! I can't breathe like this."
The venom creeps up my spine, a sly reminder of how good it's going to be, coating her in my come as she milks me dry. "You can," I rasp, kissing and biting her nipples. "Yes, you can."
Now there's nothing left in me to be careful. I hammer inside her savagely, her slick covering my balls and my thighs. Sliding my hand up to her throat, I tighten my fingers, just enough that she knows they're there at first, then tighter. "Come for me, wife. My slut. My Tsarina. Now."
It's enough to send sweet little Iris into a full body spasm, gripping me so tight that she nearly chokes the come out of me, shaking and moaning as I squeeze one last time before pulling my hand away from her neck.
Her arms are stretched out limply, my perfect sacrifice, her cunt convulsing around me, taking everything as I flood her.
I stay buried inside my wife until I feel her begin to shiver, both of us moaning when I pull my dick free and lift her in my arms.
"You did so well for me." I kiss her slack lips. "I'll take care of you now."
***
Malen'kiy tsvetok - Russian for little flower.
Yebat' menya - Russian for fuck me.