Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(146)
He was growling when he started to come. I could practically feel his heartbeat each time his dick jerked, heaving his molten essence into me, so much seed my * numbed and overflowed. I tore at the sheets, screamed without thinking, lived and died in his amazing grasp.
We came for an eternity, rocking and snarling, draining every molecule of air from our lungs. His teeth didn't even start to hurt until I was coming off the high.
At last, he let go, lingering inside me for a good minute before he pulled out. The plane's engine droned on, sweet white noise grounding us on planet earth.
“Mister Ivankov? Is everything all right?” A fist knocked on the door ahead of the woman's voice.
“Bring us a couple glasses!” Anton shouted back. “Straight vodka. We're fine.”
“God.” I rolled over, and he pulled me to his chest, dragging me through several large wet spots on the bed. “I could really use a drink.”
“We gotta get some water into you too, babe,” he said, pointing to the wetness spattering the bed. “See what you f*cking did? You've got about a minute to get into the sheets before she comes in and sees you buck naked.”
He stood up, walked to the door nude, and left me to struggle into the bed. My mouth was still hanging open in disbelief when he returned with two crystal glasses of good vodka and an ice shaker.
“You're an animal,” I said, hating the smile that killed all the mock venom in my voice.
He shrugged, handing me my drink. “You're an Ivankov woman now. I like my girls to give me everything and hold nothing back. Fucking nothing, Sabrina. You know it. I love this shit because it's the best damned trade in the world – everything love should be. We know the drill. I'll keep giving you the world, and you keep squirting all over this dick when I f*ck your brains out.”
“Really?” I quirked an eyebrow, feeling smooth vodka splash my belly like fire. “Is that all it takes to be an Ivankov's woman?”
“Yeah,” he growled, pulling up the sheet and slipping into bed next to me. “That and keeping up with me.”
He was hard, and ready to take me again. Unbelievable.
We f*cked the entire trip across the Atlantic, all the way to European airspace. I'd never been happier. Little did I know there was so much more to come. This was a baptism of lust above the seas. By the time we landed in Moscow, I was purified. I'd had my final reckoning, and now it was time to enjoy my reward for the rest of our days.
It didn't take us long to prep. By the time the plane landed, we were cleaned up, dressed, and ready to face whatever new craziness was waiting for us in this distant land.
10
Home Sweet Home (Anton)
Russia was a whole different world. It took some serious wrangling to get this place in the country outside Moscow. My old man's rich cousins looked at me like I was a god, freshly arrived from the new world after leading our name to greatness.
Good thing respect is a powerful thing. The servants spoke with such thick accents it took my ears a couple weeks to get used to it. Shit, those real Russians know how to cook and party too. We spent our first week in the motherland blasted on our asses from vodka and overstuffed with caviar.
Sabrina took to the strange new world better than me. She was reborn, glowing around our manor like a second sun. Long rides on horseback and countless hours f*cking through the night didn't exhaust her. She was up the next day with the breakfast tray from our butler, ready for more discoveries.
I thought she was beautiful before. Hell, I always thought that since the first time I saw her between the glass, taunting me, a ticket to butcher the * who'd done my kin so many wrongs. Never would've guessed she'd be my ticket to paradise too.
The girl spent most days pecking away at her new laptop. She was writing a whole f*cking book, a tell all saga blowing open the rise and fall of crime boss Gioulio Ligiotti. The FBI could eat their bastard hearts out while the public snapped it up, unable to touch her while relations were frosty between Mother Russia and the States.
As it was, the Feds were f*cked. Gioulio got dumped underneath a ton of concrete at an old construction site, closer to hell where he belonged. After a couple weeks of questions and agents roaming through every nook and cranny, the heat was off my brothers. We hadn't left a shred of evidence, and soon the boys were gonna get back to expanding business in the big city.
Me? It was a f*cking relief to be away from all that.
I took up archery and plotted my next move. Maybe a legit import-export business between Moscow and the EU. If all went well, I'd have shit set up by the time relations started to thaw between East and West. We still had all the money in the world.
Swiss banks. Gotta love 'em. For everything else, there was bribery, which was even easier over here than back home.
It only took me a few weeks to lock down our little world. Like a good Muscovite Prince, I could ride right into town with my girl at my side, a whole army ready to serve us at every disco, bar, and art gallery as soon as I flashed my name.
The business moves would come later. There was just one more move I had to make, something to seal the crazy f*cking deal Sabrina and me forged from the moment I pulled her outta the prison and into my brothers' truck.
She was writing when I came home that day.
“Save your shit and close that thing. We need to leave now.”