Prisoner (Russian Tattoos Book 2) (20 page)

The headboard banged against the wall, and after several more deep thrusts, he grunted as his pleasure peaked and he came inside me. The warmth and wetness of his semen spread through my sex and spilled down my thighs. He collapsed on top of me, wrecked by his killer orgasm. I lowered my legs to the bed and finger-combed his sweaty hair. He nuzzled the side of my face.
I moved my hands down his back and scratched him gently with my long nails. Relaxing after our energetic lovemaking session was as special as the act itself. Vladimir was an intense guy, and he never fully let his guard down with anyone but me. He reserved his gentle and loving side just for me.

Chapter 28

Sweet Reward

Vladimir ran his fingers along my silhouette. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” His cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed up, but his aura was glowing with satisfaction. My sexy Russian was so incredibly hot, I was ready to go another round.

“Perfect. Amazing. I love you so much, Vladimir.” My stomach interrupted our tender moment when it unleashed a rousing growl. The last thing I had in my stomach was a handful of nuts and dried fruit before our wedding. I’d lost my appetite from all the stress, but after that sex-charged workout, I was ravenous.

His blissful expression tanked. “You haven’t eaten a thing through all this, have you?”

I shrugged and pinched his flat stomach. “You haven’t been chowing down on blini and caviar either.”

“I’ll order a feast from room service. My bride will never go hungry again as long as I have a heartbeat.”

“Sounds good. I’ll get cleaned up.” I tossed back the blanket and spotted blood smears on my thighs and all over the sheets.

“It’s natural your first time, Carter. I’ll draw a bath.” He pulled me out of bed and guided me to the bathroom. He turned on the bathwater and dumped a scoop of scented powder mixed with dried flowers into the water. Then he added a few drops of essential oil and poured in pink soap that turned the bathwater bubbly. Our honeymoon suite came well equipped with romantic accoutrements.

He dipped his hand in the water and stirred up the concoction. I sank into the warm, sudsy water and sighed as the tension in my muscles melted away in the aromatic bath. Vladimir rolled up a towel and placed it behind my head, and then slid in the tub with me. He picked up the hotel phone that was next to the tub and ordered room service. I cracked up when he ditched his Russian accent and spoke to the operator with a Southern American drawl.

He must’ve ordered six entrees, and that was just for starters. He also requested a chocolate covered fruit bouquet, a couple bottles of non-alcoholic champagne, and for a member of housekeeping to service our room and change the sheets. He ended the call by stressing, in his charismatic way, that
Mrs. Anderson
was famished and would appreciate it if the order could be rushed.

I lifted my eyebrows and waited for an explanation.

“Since Vladimir Ivanov is dead and Carter Cook is missing, my
sovietnik
has supplied us with new identities. I am John Anderson, American businessman, and you are my lovely bride, Julie Anderson, retail clothing store manager from South Carolina,
y’all
.”

“We’re never going back to Ekaterinburg, are we?”

“Your wish was for me to get out of the
Bratva
and run away with you—and that’s what we are going to do. Remember Boris’s wedding gift? The envelope contained our new identities, passports, and a loaded bank account. We spend our honeymoon here, then we jet off to Canada to start our new lives.”

“What about your family? Do they know you’re alive?”

“No. It’s the only way. As long as I am alive, the people I love will never be free from danger. My
death
is as much for them as it us for us. I love them too much to endanger their lives any longer. In order for us to live outside of the
Bratva
, my death must be believed and we must leave the country.”

Knowing the pain his family was suffering, guilt swirled in my gut for them, and also because that meant I would never see my family again either.

“It’s what you asked for, Carter. I gave up my life so we could be together.”

“I did too.”

“Is it still what you want?”

“Absolutely. I love you more than anything in the world, Vladimir.”

We finished up in the bath, and the staff set up our buffet out on the terrace.
John
and I refueled with a bounty of yummy Russian dishes, including beet salad, cheese pie, marinated mushrooms, and potato dumplings with caramelized onions and a big dollop of sour cream. It had to be difficult for Vladimir to eat without drinking vodka. Alcohol was his addiction, but it was also a social tradition in his culture.

Every meal included rounds of vodka accompanied by sentimental toasts. Vodka wasn’t just a drink, it was a way of life in his family. As his wife, I wanted to start a new tradition. I opened a bottle of sparkling grape juice and poured it into champagne flutes. I raised my glass for a toast. “Here’s to the first day of our forever.”

He tried to clink my glass but I held it back. “And to you for fighting for us. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you to nix the vodka, but I want you to know I admire your willpower and I am proud of you for staying sober.”

We clinked and sipped. Vladimir set down his glass, and I caught a glint of sadness in his eyes. As traumatic as my experience had been, he had to feel an enormous sense of guilt for putting his family through all the turmoil. I hoped he wasn’t regretting his decision. He said we could start a family of our own, but I had a suspicion he may not physically be able to give us a child. Back in America Boris alluded to the fact that I had no need to use protection with Vladimir. I’d gotten the same impression from Vladimir after I’d introduced him to a young relative. I asked him if he wanted to have kids and he’d said, “It wasn’t meant to be.”

I wanted to broach the subject, but I didn’t want to come right out and say it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“We didn’t use protection in there.” I pointed to our love nest.

“You’re my wife. Why would we?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s the right time to start a family. I’m nineteen. I want to finish college.”

“I’m twenty-seven and have earned enough money for us to never work again for the rest of our lives. Why wait?”

“I want a career.”

“Then you’ll have one.”

“So then, what? You’ll be a stay at home dad while I’m out working?” I laughed. “I’m not seeing it, boss.”

He clenched his jaw and averted his eyes to his champagne glass. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings by insinuating he wouldn’t be a good dad; he was fantastic with Mari and Ruslana. I couldn’t imagine him not wanting to start a business and become a CEO. He was a natural born leader and it was in his blood to be the boss of
something
.

“What is your question?” He stared into my eyes and tapped the tips of his fingers together, something he did when he was trying to control his temper. Sober, Vladimir would never hurt me, but knowing I’d aroused his anger brought back a rush of bad memories from his drinking days. Ticking off the
pakhan
had proven to be disastrous, and it was in my best interest not to engage him in a subject that might bring his devil roaring back from the dead. When he got out of control back home, Boris had always been around to protect me. It was just us now. If he lost his temper, I would have to come up with my own plan to diffuse him.

Step one: Stop antagonizing him
.
“Nothing. Forget I brought it up.”

Step two: Get out of the line of fire.
I smiled and scooted my chair back. “It’s a little chilly out here. I’m going inside.”

I shut myself in the bathroom to put some separation between us and give him time to calm down. I sat on the floor, leaned against the wall, and sank my claw-like acrylic nails into my skin to ease my tension. My fake nails were stronger and thicker than my natural ones, and I could dig further into my skin than I had been able to do before.

Vladimir had to be as stressed out as I was over all the life-altering drama that had gone down the last few days. Once we got to Canada, we could relax and concentrate on rebuilding our relationship in neutral territory. He had to get accustomed to not being the boss of a crime family, and I had to learn how to carve out my space as an equal in our marriage. Vladimir had always been the alpha of our relationship—and I admired his strong personality—but not to the point that I feared for my safety.

My nails scratched across my skin and I felt the stinging sensation that I had drawn blood. Vladimir knocked on the door. “Carter?” The door opened and Vladimir’s eyes widened when he saw me cowering in the corner of the bathroom, hugging my knees, and scraping the skin off the back of my legs. He rushed over to me and clutched my shoulders. Overcome with fear, I covered my face to protect myself.

“Oh, Carter.” He scooped me up off the floor and carried me into the living room. He tried to peel my hands away from my face, but I wouldn’t let him. “Carter, please look at me. Why are you frightened? I would never hurt you.”

Step three: Revert to damage control mode. “I’m not afraid. I’m just tired.” I lowered my hands and faked a smile. “Please put me down. I haven’t gotten much sleep the last few days. I need to get some rest.”

With a wounded expression, Vladimir set me down. I escaped to the bed and pulled the covers over my head, encasing myself in a mini fallout shelter. I hugged a pillow and took a series of deep, cleansing breaths to calm my nerves. When my heart stopped racing, I closed my eyes and succumbed to exhaustion.

Chapter 29

Prisoner

I woke up with an alarming sense of dread when I rolled over to face Vladimir, but he wasn’t beside me. I hopped out of bed and ran into the living room where he was sitting on the couch, staring down an open bottle of vodka. I fell into his arms and kissed his stone face. “I’m so sorry, babe. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not afraid of you. It must’ve been some PTSD thing. Say something.”

I touched his face. His skin was clammy and pale, his eyes vacant and bloodshot. I peeked at the bottle. It was empty. “Did you have a drink?”

He smirked. “Now you accuse me of running back to my old friend.”

I kissed him on the lips to check his breath—not a trace of alcohol. “I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings. I don’t know where that came from. I love you, Vladimir. I swear it was just a panic attack or something. I’m
not
afraid of you.”

He gave me a passive aggressive nod, but didn’t say anything.

“Cut me a break, okay? I was at your funeral a few hours ago. I have a right to be a little screwed up after all the bullshit you’ve put me through.” I gestured at the open bottle. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was
thinking
my wife sees me as an abusive monster.” He snatched the bottle and hurled it at the wall. “Say whatever you want, the look in your eyes was terror. I’m a
durack
for believing you could ever forgive me—I can’t even forgive myself.”

“Of course, I forgive you. I feel terrible. I don’t know what came over me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly emotionally stable right now. I love you.” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tight.

“The fear in your eyes reminds me of who I am. I can’t be your husband
and
your worst nightmare.”

His words rocked me to the core. “We can’t let our past get in the way of our future. I swear to God I forgive you—completely.”

He didn’t look convinced, so I pulled him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. “Watching you die in my arms, going to your funeral, and the incident with Maksim manifested into an anxiety attack. I’m sorry that’s how I reacted, but it’s not how I really feel. Couples argue. It’s normal. Promise me no matter how awful or hurtful our fights turn, you’ll always remember that I love you and nothing will ever change that.” I touched his face and rubbed my hand across his beard. “Losing you is my worst nightmare.”

Vladimir caught my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist. “You’re the reason I breathe, angel.”

I ran my fingers through his hair and slipped my tongue inside his mouth. I groaned when he held me tight and squeezed my ass. I unbuttoned his shirt, ripped it off, and traced the devil tat on his chest with my fingernail. He unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants, and stripped off my robe. He scooped me up and carried me over to our three-tier wedding cake that we had yet to cut into.

“Forgive me for my moment of weakness.” He picked up a long, serrated knife and sliced into our wedding cake. The blade cut into the red roses made of icing and blended color into the rich white frosting, leaving behind a creamy pink smear across the cake. Vladimir held the slice in his bare hand and lifted it to my mouth. “Forever starts now, Mrs. Ivanov.” As I took a bite, he smashed it in my face.

“Vladimir!” I wiped the icing off with the back of my hand. While he laughed, I picked up the entire middle tier and went for his face. He held up his hand to block me, but I nailed him in the chest and smooshed it all over his badass tats before he wrestled me down on the bed. I was laughing so hard, I didn’t have the strength to defend myself, and my sexy Russian took full advantage of my weakness.

“You’re going to pay for that, angel.” He straddled me and lowered his body on top of mine, creaming the cake between our bodies. He pinned my arms back and flipped over to boss-mode. “Beg for mercy.”

“
Nyet
.” I lifted my eyebrows and tossed him a naughty grin. His erection poked against my slit, and I swiveled my hips against him. “Finish me off, boss.”

He teased me in Russian and smeared the cake over my breasts and abs, slathering the thick, creamy confection across my skin. He dove in for a snack and sucked the sweetness off my nipples. The way he dominated me with his strength and aroused me with his tongue caused a pleasurable groan to escape my lips.

“Want a taste?”

I moaned in the affirmative.

Using his finger as a serving spoon, he scooped up a bite of our wedding cake and slid it into my mouth. I sucked on his finger, swirling my tongue across the tip and bringing it in and out of my mouth, hinting at what I might do orally to satisfy his raging hard on.

“You’re a naughty girl, Carter.” He removed his finger from my mouth, slid his hand between my legs, and rubbed me. “Your sweet
pizda
is ready for more. Want to try something new?” Without waiting for my response, he slid his hand to my backside and squeezed my ass. “I’m taking you from behind.” He flipped me face down on the cool, satin bedspread and smacked my ass, sending a wave of arousal through my core. “Get on your hands and knees.”

I did what he said and he coiled his arms around my waist, readying himself in our new lovemaking position. “You like it when I give it to you rough?” he whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek, making sure I was on board with his domineering role play. “There are countless ways to make love, and I want you to tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”

“You’re going in my
pizda
, right? I’m not sure I want to try anal.”

“Only your
pizda
, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Then I’m all yours, boss.” I bumped him with my backside to spur him on.

“Hold on tight. I’m taking you on a wild ride.” He piled a couple pillows in front of me and ordered me to bow down. When I did, he saddled up behind me and rubbed his penis across my slit to get us both excited and wet. I rested my head on my arms and closed my eyes as I enjoyed our foreplay.

While I was in that vulnerable position, there wasn’t much I could do for him, so I let him take the reins until I had an opportunity to have a more energetic role in our lovemaking. His erection grew and wetness spread across my slit, providing a natural lubrication for our bodies. He positioned his tip at the base of my opening, and slid inside me.

I moaned when his penis filled my sex and rubbed against the sensual zone he had introduced me to last night. “Oh, my God. You’re right in that spot.” I clutched the pillow and sucked in my lips as Vladimir gently pushed in and out, growling his primal pleasure as I gasped with each thrust. This way felt way more intense than the missionary position that rocked my world when he took my virginity. Both felt amazing, but in different ways. Making love face-to-face was more sensual, but this way was pleasurable on a more intense, primal level.

“Ready to go faster?” He brushed my long, mussed up hair over my shoulder to expose my back and caressed my skin with his fingertips. “I won’t last long in this position, but I’ll fuck you hard if that’s what you want.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Harder the better, babe.”

He planted his hands on my hips, thrust deeper inside me, and rode me with such vigor, our bodies made a slapping sound. The feeling was intense, in an amazing way. The big moment was about to happen for me, and judging by his sexually charged groans, he was almost there too.

His erection grew and waves of pleasure spilled across my sex. I moaned as I came undone and he grunted and squeezed my ass as his pleasure peaked at the same time. He let out a deep, guttural moan as he came inside me. A warm rush of wetness quenched my body and spilled down my thighs.

The erotic rush of pleasure we shared was so exhilarating we collapsed on the bed, physically wrecked from our action-packed, sexually invigorating honeymoon. We rested together for a moment, then I slipped out of bed and returned with the entire bottom layer of our wedding cake.

My husband was exhausted from our lovemaking, and he closed his eyes and thought he was going to take a nap. Not me. I had a ton of energy and wanted to have some more of our yummy cake before housekeeping took it away. Since we’d already made a mess with the first round, I dove my fingers in the cake and clawed out a big scoop from the edge with extra icing.

“Boss.” I nudged him to get him to open his eyes.

He sat up and smiled when he saw me hovering over him with a hunk of cake in my hand. “Want some?”

He opened his mouth and I fed it to him, without smashing it in his face like he had done to me. I took a bite too, and alternated between feeding him and myself. “Next time, I want to be on top.”

He choked on his cake, not expecting to hear those words come out of my mouth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Then he laughed, as if to himself.

“Something funny about that?”

He tossed me a wry smile. “Are you going to try to dominate me?” When he said it, he came across as an arrogant jerk. Like, the idea of me controlling him was that impossible to believe.

Instead of arguing my case, I pounced on top of him and pinned back his arms to dominate my powerful husband. “Not so funny now, is it?” His eyes were wild with lust as I rubbed my sex against his penis, testing to see if I could get him hard again. “Now you’re my prisoner. Do whatever I say—
or else
.” My blonde hair rained down over him as I tried to intimidate him by making the nasty fighter face I’d learned from Dmitri.

I bore all my body weight down on top of him with all the strength I had, but I was no match for him. He overpowered me and flipped me on my back to teach me a lesson. It all happened so fast, I cracked up from the rush of excitement.

“Now I’m going to punish you.” Vladimir picked up the entire cake and dumped it on my chest, burying me under a mountain of frosting.

A loud knock came from the door.

“Bad timing. It’s probably housekeeping. Come back later, please,” he hollered.

“They’re not going to be happy with us,” I laughed. We had made quite a mess of our suite, and I hoped it got even sloppier by the time we were done playing with our food.

An electronic beep sounded and the door opened. Vladimir hopped out of bed, and I squealed and covered my body with my hands.

Boris stepped into our suite and mumbled incredulously. “Remind me never to invite the two of you to my birthday party.”

Vladimir covered me with a blanket to shield my naked, cake-smeared body. “What are you doing here? We’re not scheduled to leave until tomorrow.”

I could see by the expression on Boris’s face that something was very wrong.

“Babushka has fallen ill. It’s her heart. The stress of your death is too much for her. She’s inconsolable. You need to call her and tell her the truth.”

“No,” Vladimir said. “I have to see her.”

“Your appearance will undo everything we set into motion. If word gets out, if anyone sees you outside the family, this will send Maksim into a rage. He will stop at nothing to finish the job. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I can’t let my family suffer because of my sins. Carter and I will be ready to leave in ten minutes.”