You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) (19 page)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnVUHWCynig

Aleksandr Malenkov

Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore

my love was infinite, if spring make it more.

                                      -John Donne, Love’s Growth

I
undress her. Slowly. Dragging each garment across her skin. I’m not going to rush this. I did it wrong before. This time I’m going to do it right. With love. With the kind of love that holds, cuts to the soul, and heals with just one touch, one look. She is mine and I am hers. And this: this is ours. Just ours. 

Her top. Her skirt.

‘Hurry,’ she pleads, her voice low and urgent.

‘Shhhh,’ I say, but I don’t increase my pace one tiny bit. Love is torture. I know.

Her bra. Her panties.

Her impatient gaze meets mine, locks. I let her look at me while my eyes roam her body hungrily, possessively. Let her see what I kept locked away for so long.

This is me, little fish. Adoring you
.

Her eyes glaze over as I circle my tongue around one deliciously pink nipple. I draw that beauty into my mouth. My body burns for her.

‘Ohhh,’ she moans, and arches into me.

We found each other. I suck gently.

She threads her fingers into my hair and makes those little kitten sounds. It’s the sweetest thing. God, I’ve missed them. I move my attention to the other beauty. Her breath catches.

‘Oh yes,’ she whimpers.

It’s been so long. It’s been so long. 

I raise my head and take her lips. I want to bite on that plump lower lip, ravish her like a caveman, but I don’t. I make our kiss slow and soft like butter. Our tongues rolling, lips melding, until I feel her melting under my touch. We burn, merge together, become one.

My hand curves under her ass. Gently, gently I slip a finger into her, and feel the tremor that goes right through her and vibrate in the moan she utters in my mouth. Inside me something is building and growing. Something I’ve never felt before. It climbs and climbs. I feel my heart hammering. My soul soaring.

She pushes her body up into my hand, desperate, seeking, wanting. Her eyes blazing with the same lust that is inside me. 

‘Don’t let me come with your finger,’ she begs, her eyes half-closed and glazed.

I still vividly remember what I once did to her prone, unresponsive body. She laughed when I told her. ‘You should have carried on,’ she said. ‘I might have become the first person in a coma to have an orgasm.’ She only says that because she doesn’t know how utterly lost I was without her. How much I cried.

I spread her thighs and feast on the sight before me: ah … my sexy, wet, hungry pussy. Her clit is a little white pearl protruding out of all that swollen flesh. My tongue waters to taste her, but there will be time for that later. I need to get inside her. My cock needs to sink into her tight, hot cunt. Her hips thrust forward. Her sweet sex is seeking my cock.

This is for real.

After all this time I’m going to be inside my baby. Her hand reaches out and curls itself around the base of my dick.

‘Holy fuck, I forgot how big you are,’ she whispers, her face shining with excitement. Her finger smears the bead of liquid all over my cock head.

I groan. ‘Oh, yes.’ 

Watching her eyes, I spread her legs more open. She positions my erection, hard and hot, between the lips of her sex and rubs herself on it, before pushing it inside her, inch by fucking inch. The old urge to slam into her, to take what I want, doesn’t even arise. All I can think about is not hurting her. She is as delicate as a piece of bone china. I’m almost afraid of damaging her. Her breasts are smaller, I can see her ribs, her hipbones protrude, and her skin is so painfully pale.

‘Am I hurting you?’

‘No. It feels amazing.’

Then she inhales sharply and stops moving.

‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No. I’m savoring you.’

I know she is lying. I am hurting her. She is too tight after all this time.

‘Let me,’ I say, and she removes her hand from the base of my cock. I pause and let her get used to being stretched again.

‘I love the way you fill me up,’ she says, her voice low and throbbing.

‘I love filling you up.’

‘I’m ready. Fuck me now.’

Very slowly, I ease my shaft all the way in, and she rises up to meet me.

‘Oh wow!’ she breathes.

I set the rhythm. It’s not wild and it’s not crazy, it’s just perfect for two people who have survived being lost. It gives me time to take it all in: her expression, the noises that she makes, the scent of her, the feel of her skin, the sweat that glows on her face. I take it in as a miser collects money, or a magpie hoards shiny objects. Obsessively.

She tires quickly, her hips no longer matching my rhythm, so I come out of her, collect her ankles and push them up to either side of her ears. My pulse quickens instantly. This is what we were before. This will never change. I will always like to see her spread out like this. Her beautiful pussy opened wide for me. I slip my cock back into her slit and press down into that tight, wet channel. The walls of her sex grip me hard and I watch her eyes widen.

‘More,’ she urges hoarsely.

I push deeper into her. She is tight. Incredibly tight.

‘I can take more,’ she gasps.

I want to push all the way in, but I can see she is in pain. With a groan I stop and let her adjust to my size. She wriggles her hips and the sensation is like lava in my blood. I almost come.

‘I love having you so deep inside me,’ she whispers.

I begin to thrust. Sinking into her, deeper and deeper, forgetting myself, until a quick ragged sound tears out of her throat and she climaxes. Immediately I let go, my breath explodes from my lungs, and semen pumps out of me. I come, as I haven’t in a long, long time, as only she can make me. Hard and brutal, my neck stretched, a strangled growl rumbling in my throat.

Emptied and chest heaving, I look down at my love. Her skin is flushed and she is taking gasping breaths.

I curl her towards me. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you.’

‘No, it was the best sex I’ve ever had.’

I listen to her ragged heartbeat with gratitude. Every heartbeat is a gift I treasure.

‘I wanted all of you,’ she whispers. ‘I’ve always been able to take all of you, and I wanted to again.’

‘You will. When you’re ready. There’s no hurry,’ I tell her. ‘We have our whole lives ahead of us.’

Dahlia Fury Malenkov

(Five Years Later)

I
open the fridge door and a gust of lovely cool air blows on my face. I reach for a pitcher of lemonade, close the door, and Mark appears at the kitchen entrance

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hey yourself,’ I answer back.

He comes into the kitchen. He is barefoot and wearing a pair of swimming trunks. 

I hold up the pitcher. ‘Want some?’ I ask.

‘God, yes,’ he says, and comes to sit down at the counter. He watches me pour the lemonade out. I slide it over to him across the marble counter in a bartender move.

‘Fancy,’ he says with a smile, and takes a sip.

‘So what’s going on outside?’ I say, plonking myself on the stool opposite him.

‘Isn’t life funny?’ he wonders aloud instead of answering me.

‘In what way?’

‘I thought you were the one for me. I mean, nobody could have told me otherwise. Like I told Stella, I was completely obsessed. From the first moment I saw you, I actually thought it was love at first sight. I followed you home, for god’s sake.’

‘Yes, that is a bit creepy,’ I chuckle.

‘Then I saw Stella and thought, yeah, great body, nice face, but not for me and yet, she is the one. We were always wrong. We didn’t fit no matter how hard I tried to make it so. With Stella I didn’t have to try. It just flowed like oil out of a jar. You were always meant for Zane and Stella was always meant for me. I can’t even imagine my life without her anymore.’

I look at his kind eyes and feel blessed that four years ago I finally managed to convince Zane to accept him into our lives. Before I can answer him there is a shout. ‘Uncle Mark where are you?’ a voice hollers.

‘Anouska wants to torture you. Again,’ I say with a smile.

‘Oh well. It was too good to last,’ he says and stands up.

‘Good luck.’ I grin at him as he goes out into the bright sunshine.

I look out of the window as Mark hauls my daughter up into the air and onto his shoulders. She clings onto his neck like a little brown spider and they head towards the pool.

I hear a noise and Stella waddles in. She is seven months pregnant. ‘Jesus, Dahlia. What the hell are we doing in this confounded country? It’s way too hot. I’m just about to melt into a massive puddle.’

‘Well, we’re all here right slap bang in the middle of a Roman summer.  In two months’ time you’ll be having a baby, and you wanted to come, remember?’ I tell her.

‘That’s true. Somebody pass me a lemonade before I pass out,’ she says dramatically.

‘It’s air-conditioned in this kitchen,’ I remind her, putting a glass of lemonade into her outstretched hand.

‘Are you trying to ruin a diva’s moment?’ she asks before draining the entire glass and putting it back into my hand.

‘Heaven forbid,’ I say, and watch her climb onto the island and lie flat on the cool granite top.

I climb onto the island and lie beside her. ‘You always have the best ideas.’

She turns her head. ‘Where’s Zane?’

I link my fingers with hers. ‘Upstairs. Changing Alexei.’

‘Oh God. That’s another joy that awaits me.’

I giggle. ‘It’s not so bad.’

‘Yeah, right. Next you’ll be telling me childbirth is beautiful.’

I grin. ‘It is.’

‘Thank you very much, but having an eight pound bowling ball shoot out of my vagina is not my idea of beautiful.’

I grin. ‘You’re a little bit scared, aren’t you?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes. I’m freaking terrified.’

I laugh. ‘Trust me, it’ll be worth it.’

‘That remains to be seen, but don’t you think it is weird to have a little person living in your body, weeing and pooing inside you?’

‘Oh, Stella,’ I giggle, and squeeze her fingers. They are puffy in this hot weather. ‘Only you can say something like that and still look cute.’

‘Talking of cute, I forgot to tell you what your little me did yesterday.’

‘What did she do?’ I ask with a sigh.

‘Last week I explained to her that when you get the urge to do something bad it’s because the devil is whispering in your ear.’

‘Oh, so you told her that,’ I exclaim.

‘That’s not the point of this story,’ Stella says impatiently. ‘So yesterday I found her happily coloring the wall in my room. Of course, I scolded. “That is very naughty, Anouska. Next time I see you do that I’ll have to beat your little butt.” She frowned up at me and said, “Is the devil talking to you now Auntie Stella?”’

I burst out laughing. ‘Oh my God. My daughter is terrible.’

‘I know. It’s like she’s my daughter. She’s got all my traits.’

‘She does,’ I agree, still chuckling.

‘Anyway, when is Noah coming?’

‘Tomorrow. He can only stay for a day though. He nearly didn’t come, but I twisted his arm.’

‘How does one twist Noah’s arm?’

‘Food.’

‘Really?’

‘Specifically, date and banana cake. He’ll walk miles for a slice.’

‘You’re kidding. He’s seems so impenetrable.’

‘No. That’s his big weakness.’

She laughs. ‘He’s still single, isn’t he?’

‘Yup.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever find someone?’

‘For sure. He has a heart of gold. The woman who gets him will be very lucky.’

I lift my head slightly and Zane is standing there with Alexei.

‘Well, well, what do we have here, Alexei?’ he says.

‘Mommy, Mommy,’ Alexei calls, and Zane brings him over and fits him between Stella and me.

His little fingers grasp my face as he plants a wet, gooey kiss on my nose.

‘Right. I’m off to see what Mark is up to,’ Stella says, trying unsuccessfully to pull herself upright.

Zane holds out his hand, she grasps it and he pulls her into a sitting position.

‘Thank you, kind Sir,’ she tells him, before waddling out of the kitchen.

‘Hello beautiful,’ Zane says, coming around to kiss me.

I sit up and hold Alexei in my lap.

Zane leans toward me, bracketing my body by putting his hands on the countertop.  ‘Happy?’ he asks.

‘Ecstatic,’ I reply.

‘I want to take you upstairs, Mrs. Malenkov,’ he whispers.

‘Like now?’

‘Like now,’ he says very seriously.

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s our anniversary.’

‘No, it’s not,’ I say immediately.

‘Yes, it is.’

‘What anniversary?’ I challenge.

‘The very first time I made you come.’

I grin. ‘When I was forced by Stella to go massage the very dangerous Russian mob boss?’

He nods. ‘He’s not a mob boss anymore, but he is still very Russian, and can be dangerous if provoked. Will you massage him?’

‘What about him?’ I ask, nodding at Alexei.

‘Just throw him in the pool,’ he says callously.

‘I have a better idea,’ I whisper, and thrusting Alexei into his arms, jump down from the counter. I snatch Alexei back and go out into the poolside area where Mark, Stella, and Anouska are playing.

‘Can you take care of this little one for an hour?’ I say, holding my son out to Stella.

‘What am I? Your babysitter?’

‘Wait till your bundle of joy arrives and you want some,’ I say meaningfully.

‘Give me that baby,’ she says, holding her arms out.

I give Alexei to her and run.

Yes, I run to my husband.  

The End.

This book is inspired by the idea that everybody

deserves a second chance …

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJsiTpr9_7A&nohtml5

and anybody can change

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gt5H-pSsyiM&nohtml5