Page 96
Story: Ivan
My heart detonated in my chest at his words, causing a ricochet of shock and stress to run through my body. I couldn’t go back to Russia. I couldn’t leave Emmy and she certainly had no business moving to Russia with me. What kind of life would it be for her, isolated and afraid in a foreign country while her boyfriend rose in the ranks of the Russian mafia? Working for Drago was one thing, but working for Mikhail was quite another. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he would use this situation as leverage over me, but I was.
Right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that we had a plan to take out Armstrong. I couldn’t tolerate the persistent threat to Emmy he presented. I would have to figure out what the fuck to do about Mikhail after we took Armstrong out.
“Fine,” I gritted.
“Ah, you are unhappy to return to Russia?” he asked in a soft voice.
I pressed my lips together, uncertain how to reply. Mikhail always gave me a lot of latitude, but I wasn’t sure how much to push him, especially when he had so much control over my future. “I was thinking of staying in Chicago.”
“Because of the woman?” I thought he might be taunting, but he seemed genuinely curious.
“I also have my sister here,” I deflected. I would like to be closer to my sister, but we both knew that wasn’t why I was resisting going to Russia.
Mikhail and I had always been very direct with each other, a quality I believe he generally appreciated, even when my bluntness bordered on disrespect. In fact, I’d seen him shoot men dead for talking to him the way I did, so I wasn’t sure why he was so tolerant of me. However, I didn’t feel safe pushing back right now or insisting on staying in Chicago. He might pull his support from the Armstrong operation and leave Emmy vulnerable. “Are you willing to take Armstrong out?”
He accepted my non-answer. For now. “I see the benefit in removing Armstrong. He is becoming an increasingly unstable liability, even among our kind. I never liked him, and I like him less as I’ve observed his erratic decision-making. I don’t think I’ll have much trouble garnering support to coordinate his elimination. I will inform you of the plan when the time comes.”
Mikhail had always had an eloquent way of speaking, even when he was talking about assassinating a reckless, psychotic fuck like Armstrong.
“Good. From our information, he seems like he’s ramping up to make contact with Emmy soon.”
“The sooner he goes, the better. The sooner you return to Russia, the better, as well. I have plans for you Ivan.”
My fists clenched at his words, my body physically resisting his plans. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later.”
I wanted to hurl my phone against the wall but slid it into my back pocket instead. I needed to put this whole situation with Mikhail to the back of my mind. I didn’t have the energy to worry about it now. Not with all the other fucking things I had to worry about.
Instead of dwelling on that, I removed my jeans and slid back into bed, rolling Emmy’s warm, soft body toward me so her face rested against my chest. As I breathed in her sweet scent, I felt my muscles finally start to relax. She murmured against me, probably protesting my too tight embrace.
I leaned back to stare at her beautiful features as she slept. The heavy fringe of dark lashes that lay upon her porcelain skin, the soft curve of her luscious mouth, the cute way she frowned as she slept, as if confused to feel the presence of another person in her bed. Of course, she was. Emmy had never slept with another man before me. Thank fucking god, or I would have had to kill him. That clarinet player saved himself a world of pain by leaving her alone.
I stared down at the jagged cut on her chest, a remnant of her experience with Orlov. Just thinking of him hovering over her made me want to get up and drive as fast as I could to the warehouse so I could put hundreds of slices in his skin, as he’d done to Emmy. I wanted to watch him bleed out slowly, to suffer and scream. If he stayed knocked out long enough, I’d probably get my chance.
I reached down and ran my tongue along the cut on her chest, the metallic taste of her blood lingering in my mouth. I’d tasted blood before, of course, but this was Emmy’s blood. It was her life on my tongue, the evidence that her heart was still beating and that she was safe.
As I lapped at her injured skin, my mouth inevitably found its way to her hardening nipple. Fuck, I loved her body. Willowy and lean, with curves and softness that had my dick hardening against her hip. With Mikhail’s words still ringing in my ears, desperate fingers slid between her legs, my need for her suddenly overwhelming.
Just thinking of sliding my cock back into her, pumping her full of my cum had me rolling her on her back and sliding two fingers inside of her. My thumb swirling wetly around her clit, my mouth sucking and lightly biting her nipples. It didn’t take long until her hips were moving with me, and her eyes were fluttering open, a low groan escaping those sweet lips.
“Mmm, Ivan…” she whispered. Relief and lust tore through me, making my dick throb and leak at the sound of my name being uttered in her sweet, breathy voice.
Fear that her time with Orlov might have fucked with her mind, made her jumpy and scared, was hovering in the back of my mind as I touched her. I was relieved that Orlov hadn’t stolen that from her, hadn’t planted himself in her unconscious mind, that she knew my touch and felt safe instead of scared.
My mouth moved from her nipples to her mouth, needing to taste my name lingering there.
“Moya,” I breathed against her cheek before taking her sweet mouth.
Chapter 38
Emmy
I shivered as Ivan spoke the word in my ear. All my senses were attuned to him—his heated, rough touch finding every sensitive spot on my body, his sensual lips devouring mine, his husky voice that sent shivers down my spine as it whispered the words I loved hearing—Moya. Mine. That was exactly how I felt—irrevocably his.
I’d been his for years, it just took him a little while to catch on.
I stared up at Ivan’s lust-ravaged expression. I wanted to soak it in, wallow in it, stay with him in this bubble forever and never have to leave as long as his green gaze stared at me with such heated possession, such fierce wonder.
Seeing such naked emotion on his typically expressionless face made me feel guilty for doubts that still niggled at me because he hadn’t actually said the words yet.
Right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that we had a plan to take out Armstrong. I couldn’t tolerate the persistent threat to Emmy he presented. I would have to figure out what the fuck to do about Mikhail after we took Armstrong out.
“Fine,” I gritted.
“Ah, you are unhappy to return to Russia?” he asked in a soft voice.
I pressed my lips together, uncertain how to reply. Mikhail always gave me a lot of latitude, but I wasn’t sure how much to push him, especially when he had so much control over my future. “I was thinking of staying in Chicago.”
“Because of the woman?” I thought he might be taunting, but he seemed genuinely curious.
“I also have my sister here,” I deflected. I would like to be closer to my sister, but we both knew that wasn’t why I was resisting going to Russia.
Mikhail and I had always been very direct with each other, a quality I believe he generally appreciated, even when my bluntness bordered on disrespect. In fact, I’d seen him shoot men dead for talking to him the way I did, so I wasn’t sure why he was so tolerant of me. However, I didn’t feel safe pushing back right now or insisting on staying in Chicago. He might pull his support from the Armstrong operation and leave Emmy vulnerable. “Are you willing to take Armstrong out?”
He accepted my non-answer. For now. “I see the benefit in removing Armstrong. He is becoming an increasingly unstable liability, even among our kind. I never liked him, and I like him less as I’ve observed his erratic decision-making. I don’t think I’ll have much trouble garnering support to coordinate his elimination. I will inform you of the plan when the time comes.”
Mikhail had always had an eloquent way of speaking, even when he was talking about assassinating a reckless, psychotic fuck like Armstrong.
“Good. From our information, he seems like he’s ramping up to make contact with Emmy soon.”
“The sooner he goes, the better. The sooner you return to Russia, the better, as well. I have plans for you Ivan.”
My fists clenched at his words, my body physically resisting his plans. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later.”
I wanted to hurl my phone against the wall but slid it into my back pocket instead. I needed to put this whole situation with Mikhail to the back of my mind. I didn’t have the energy to worry about it now. Not with all the other fucking things I had to worry about.
Instead of dwelling on that, I removed my jeans and slid back into bed, rolling Emmy’s warm, soft body toward me so her face rested against my chest. As I breathed in her sweet scent, I felt my muscles finally start to relax. She murmured against me, probably protesting my too tight embrace.
I leaned back to stare at her beautiful features as she slept. The heavy fringe of dark lashes that lay upon her porcelain skin, the soft curve of her luscious mouth, the cute way she frowned as she slept, as if confused to feel the presence of another person in her bed. Of course, she was. Emmy had never slept with another man before me. Thank fucking god, or I would have had to kill him. That clarinet player saved himself a world of pain by leaving her alone.
I stared down at the jagged cut on her chest, a remnant of her experience with Orlov. Just thinking of him hovering over her made me want to get up and drive as fast as I could to the warehouse so I could put hundreds of slices in his skin, as he’d done to Emmy. I wanted to watch him bleed out slowly, to suffer and scream. If he stayed knocked out long enough, I’d probably get my chance.
I reached down and ran my tongue along the cut on her chest, the metallic taste of her blood lingering in my mouth. I’d tasted blood before, of course, but this was Emmy’s blood. It was her life on my tongue, the evidence that her heart was still beating and that she was safe.
As I lapped at her injured skin, my mouth inevitably found its way to her hardening nipple. Fuck, I loved her body. Willowy and lean, with curves and softness that had my dick hardening against her hip. With Mikhail’s words still ringing in my ears, desperate fingers slid between her legs, my need for her suddenly overwhelming.
Just thinking of sliding my cock back into her, pumping her full of my cum had me rolling her on her back and sliding two fingers inside of her. My thumb swirling wetly around her clit, my mouth sucking and lightly biting her nipples. It didn’t take long until her hips were moving with me, and her eyes were fluttering open, a low groan escaping those sweet lips.
“Mmm, Ivan…” she whispered. Relief and lust tore through me, making my dick throb and leak at the sound of my name being uttered in her sweet, breathy voice.
Fear that her time with Orlov might have fucked with her mind, made her jumpy and scared, was hovering in the back of my mind as I touched her. I was relieved that Orlov hadn’t stolen that from her, hadn’t planted himself in her unconscious mind, that she knew my touch and felt safe instead of scared.
My mouth moved from her nipples to her mouth, needing to taste my name lingering there.
“Moya,” I breathed against her cheek before taking her sweet mouth.
Chapter 38
Emmy
I shivered as Ivan spoke the word in my ear. All my senses were attuned to him—his heated, rough touch finding every sensitive spot on my body, his sensual lips devouring mine, his husky voice that sent shivers down my spine as it whispered the words I loved hearing—Moya. Mine. That was exactly how I felt—irrevocably his.
I’d been his for years, it just took him a little while to catch on.
I stared up at Ivan’s lust-ravaged expression. I wanted to soak it in, wallow in it, stay with him in this bubble forever and never have to leave as long as his green gaze stared at me with such heated possession, such fierce wonder.
Seeing such naked emotion on his typically expressionless face made me feel guilty for doubts that still niggled at me because he hadn’t actually said the words yet.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152