Chapter 10 Betrayal
Betrayal
Mira
Water sluices down our bodies as my husband wraps his arms around my waist. My head falls back against his shoulder as his hands deftly explore my soapy body. He squeezes my supple thighs firmly, and that’s all it takes for me to part them for him.
I’m brought back to reality when Nikolai cups my sex while beckoning me to give him access to my mouth.
I hum into the kiss while his fingers tease my clit.
He backs us to the built-in shower seat and sits while I’m forced to turn around and face him.
He hooks my left thigh over his shoulder and spreads me wide for his enjoyment.
Nikolai’s lips barely caress my pussy lips, but that doesn’t stop my toes from curling so hard that they might snap off.
I gasp when his devious tongue enters me.
His tongue wiggles inside of me with wild abandonment, and it doesn’t take long for my legs to shake in ecstasy.
“I need you, Mira,” Nikolai whispers between my folds. Before I respond, he climbs to his feet, lifts me, and lines himself with my entrance. “Eyes on me,” he reminds me.
Our mouths drop as he guides me onto his dick.
Nikolai stills once he’s seated as far as possible, and I bury my face in his neck to muffle my cry as I adjust to his size.
The man is nine inches of veined thickness, and it wouldn’t take much for him to ruin me.
Whatever the case, I’m grateful for the reprieve and that Nikolai decided against being reckless with his dick.
“What are you doing?” I question when he pulls out.
“Not here,” he replies, leaving the shower stall with me secure in his arms. I squeal when he unexpectedly tosses me onto the bed. He’s on me in seconds, prowling over my body. He cups my generous breasts in his hands and sucks on the pointed peaks.
“Oh…Niko,” I moan, scraping my nails against his scalp as his tongue rapidly flicks against the pebbled buds.
My restraint flees me as each second passes.
My hips start rolling on their own, attempting to bump my clit against his dick for friction.
I suck in a breath when my husband listens to my body and glides his pole over my core, making my back arch.
Enough with the foreplay! Put me out of my misery!
I don’t wait long for my wish to be granted.
Nikolai feeds me inches again, and he nibbles on my bottom lip as he sets the pace.
Surprisingly, his thrusts are tantalizingly slow, touching every sacred part of me.
He props himself up on an elbow and teases the flesh of my calf that rests on his back with his fingers.
It might be the alcohol talking, but as I stare into his eyes, I can’t help but feel that our souls are tethering to one another.
He’s taking his time. He’s exploring my body. And I’m helplessly falling.
Nikolai pulls out again and rests his head on my forehead.
Our soft pants warm each other’s faces as we catch our breath.
He rolls us onto our sides, forcing us to face each other.
My bottom leg straightens, and my top leg instinctively wraps around Nikolai’s hip.
He loops an arm around me, cradling my neck in the crook of his arm, and his other hand grasps one of my ass cheeks to provide leverage.
We exchange a heated kiss as our bodies join again.
Nikolai plunges into my depths, bringing our slick bodies closer and closer to release with every stroke.
My nails dig into his shoulders when he lifts my thigh and penetrates me deeper with the new angle.
“Oh, my–don’t stop! Faster!” I cry out. He speeds up, and I’m barely hanging onto my sanity. I’m lost in pleasure, barely realizing when I’m repositioned on my hands and knees.
“You’re mine,” Nikolai pants from behind me as he drills me into the mattress. He joins our right hands, lifting them up for me to see our matching tattoos as if the sight of them solidifies his words.
He whispers in my ear harshly, muttering growling words in Russian.
But I can’t focus on translating, not when my breath escapes me with each deep thrust, and certainly not when the sound of my ass clapping against his pelvis is drowning out his words.
His hands move to my waist for leverage.
His fingertips melt into my flesh, and my pussy becomes a fucking slip and slide as we hurtle towards the finish line.
An orgasm washes over me like a deadly tidal wave and wipes me the hell out.
I vaguely remember Nikolai tucking me under the cover and wrapping his bulky body around me.
But what I do remember is him whispering his wedding vows to me in Russian, promising to always put me before him, stay loyal, and protect me against our enemies.
* * *
I roll over with a dreamy sigh and enjoy the ache between my thighs and the soreness of my ass from the back shots before opening my eyes. The first thing I notice is that my husband is missing.
Husband.
I shake my head, still trying to digest how my life drastically changed since arriving in Russia. I hold my right hand above my face and admire the ring of three interlocking bands of rose, white, and yellow gold.
The phone on the nightstand rings, and I answer it.
“Hello?”
No response.
“Hello?”
Still no response. The phone clicks, and then I hear the dial tone. I return the phone to the base, thinking that whoever the caller is had the wrong number. The phone rings again, but unlike a few moments ago, I’m hesitant to answer. But the longer it rings, the more my head pounds.
“Hello?”
“Dobroye Utro.”
I grin and climb out of bed.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“No Russian?” Nikolai asks.
“I think I earned a day off after last night,” I reply, peering out the window. “Where did you go?”
“I apologize, Mira, but I was called into work for an emergency.”
“I see,” I whisper as I notice a black SUV enter the hotel’s driveway.
I gulp harshly when men dressed in all black and masks jump out of the truck.
The guns in their hands prove they mean serious business.
“When you arrived, was it a true emergency or something your men could’ve handled themselves? ”
“Mira?”
“I-I think they’re after me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just before you called, the phone rang. I answered, but the caller hung up on me, and now there are men with guns outside the hotel.”
“I’m on my way. I’m a little less than an hour away. Arm yourself. My men should be able to hold them off until I get there with Sasha.”
I abandon the phone and rush to get dressed. I barely jump into a pair of jeans when gunfire erupts. I shove my feet into a pair of boots and race to the closet.
“Breathe in, breathe out,” I chant to myself, checking to see if the pistol is loaded.
I grab a few magazines and stuff them into my pockets as I formulate a plan.
I can’t climb down the balcony because I doubt they’ll send all their men inside for retrieval.
At the very least, the getaway driver is waiting.
Gunshots echo down the hallway, and I throw up a quick prayer and hope for the best.