Anatoly Medlov (29 page)

Shocked, she put her hands to her mouth, but he quickly pulled her wrist to him and placed the six-carat bracelet on her. It sparkled in the celight, reflecting around the room.

As she marveled at her $50,000 gift, he marveled at her clean-shaven vagina. In a swift movement and still on his knees, he cupped her curvy behind in his hands, pulling her close to him. His meaty tongue lapped at the top of her mound, licking her exposed, sex lips and titillating her meaty surface. The musky scent of her body transferred to his mouth, making him harder in his pants.

Moaning, she watched him dip lower, tilt his head to a perfect view and slip his tongue in between her labia. The tip of his tongue snaked up to find her clitoris. Sucking at it, he felt her tremble above him as he drank the wetness from her body, cleaning her dry.

Anatoly stood up, mouth wet and picked Renee up off the ground. Her short body cradled into his embrace as he carried her to the large bed covered in rose petals. He laid her down carefully, splaying her legs open.

She gazed up at him. He was still in his black dress shirt and black pants, looking powerful and magnetic. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing his many tattoos. His chrome watch glittered in the light. His eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as the bracelet on her right wrist. He looked amazing, dominating.

Unable to control herself, she reached out for him. Her hand caught the back of his neck. He came to her, kissing her again with a fierce passion. One hand stroked her neck and collarbone, the other made its way back down to her sex where he slipped a finger inside of her and rested his thumb on her clitoris. As he was massaging and kissing her, she began to whimper, squirming under him and completely pliable to his every demand.

Anatoly trailed a kiss from her cheek to her neck, then moved back to her hot, aching sex. He parted her lips with his fingers and blew against her exposed body. Arching her back, she felt him lap her sex again. She moaned. He licked. She moved, he adjusted. She clenched. He kissed her, sucked her, tongued her until she finally felt herself begin to shake. He bent to her, kissed her dry again. Finally, he stripped out of his clothes.

In all the time that they had been around each other, she’d never seen him naked. His taut muscles were carved into his sleek skin. His body was a temple of deep valleys of sinewy flesh with marble rock-hard definition and tanned golden-bronze skin embellished with intricate tattoos. And his erection silenced any question of his bloodline. Like a true Medlov, he left nothing to question. His width and length were testament to his manhood – to his dominance.

But Anatoly paid little attention to himself. He was too engulfed in finally seeing after many years what Renee actually looked like. This was odd for him, exhilarating. There was no question in his mind that he would dominate her, but he wanted her to enjoy it. Sex for him, for the most part of his life, had been a one-way pursuit. The woman had only been there to please him, but not Renee. He was only interested in her pleasure.

Renee’s short stature made it easy for him to sweep her compact body in one gaze. Her baby soft skin was a deep, rich shade of mahogany that only darkened around her nipples, the dip between her legs and her delicate knees.

The wideness of her hips was just right for absorbing the raw shock he intended to transfer. He wanted nothing more than to pound his body into her, feel his sweat on her stomach, taste every inch of her until he had it committed to memory.

Erotic thoughts began to multiply in Anatoly’s head. She had an inner belly button. He liked those most
for the finish
. He glanced into her eyes. She swallowed hard, realizing that he was actually strategizing his attack.

“Is there anything that you don’t like?” Anatoly asked, kissing the inside of her leg and slipping on a condom. His eyes were hooded and dark. His breaths were deep and heavy, each exhale drawing attention to his carved abdomen.

Renee bit her lip, feeling his tongue against her ankle, snaking against her skin. “No. Is there anything that you don’t like?” she asked.

He smiled deviously. “No.”

Anatoly kept his possessive eyes on her as he dipped in to her lips. His stare was so carnal until it aroused Renee to near orgasm. Her burning legs opened to fit him comfortably between. Though she was mildly embarrassed that she was already soaking wet again, there was no way to hide it. He was slowly sliding his erection through the wetness as he kissed her mouth. Still, he had not penetrated her.

The wait was driving Renee crazy. She longed for him to be inside of her. Lifting her hips, she moaned and palmed her breast.

Anatoly slipped his hand behind her and helped elevate her hips. Without a word, he guided himself into her.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispered.

Renee whimpered at the feel of his body. Liquid heat united them in a locked position. Stretching her body to the brink, he finally went for needy her breasts, begging for his sincere attention. His breaths made them harden more, and within seconds he was suckling one in his mouth and holding the other in his hand, fondling it between his deft fingers.

Renee was unable to speak, unable to breathe. Everywhere that he could be, he was. Inside of her. On her. Kissing her. Rubbing her. Touching her. Screwing her.

Unable to take the constant bombardment of raw, hot sensations, she finally screamed out in ecstasy as her sex spasmed. But her recognition of her weakness only made Anatoly stronger. In long, coiling strokes, he moved in and out of her body, in and out of her wetness, pumping deeper and deeper into her. The sound of their bodies slapping together only drove him madder. He kept his own orgasm at bay, and continued to draw hers out.

“
Ty prinadlezhishʹ mne,”
Anatoly said in her ear.
You belong to me.

She looked up at him in wonderment. It didn’t take a linguist to know what he meant. It was in his eyes, in his kiss. Love.

The sheets were soaked. She moved against his body, feeling his sweat in between them. Knees buried into the bed, arms holding her thighs, he punished her body in a rhythmic pattern of passion.

The burn in her eyes fueled his passion. In one motion, he had pulled her to her side. He continued until she was nearly out of breath. Reaching for him, unable to put her hands in one position for more than a second, she grabbed the sheets and tore them from the mattress. Her cry intensified his desire. He reached back and slapped a burning, hot palm to her ample backside, then rubbed the pain into her skin. The sting left her panting.

Unable to control himself any longer, he buried himself deep inside her. With a hand full of her black hair in his hand and the other hand around her neck, he pulled her up to him.

She could smell his cologne as he slipped his finger in her mouth. His hot breath hissed at the back of her neck. Low whimpers became moans as he broke the walls of her tension, flooding his body with her thick liquid. She felt her body tensing, words forming on her lips to tell him that she was so close.

Knowing she had reached her point, he turned her around to see her face. Now, on top of her, he pumped into her body. Face-to-face, they both climaxed. Holding each other tight, kissing and moaning, they collapsed into each other’s arms.

Anatoly looked over at her, wrapped in his embrace, exhausted and happy.

“I...I really do love you,” he said again, trying to catch his breath.

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “I love you, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Anatoly felt something licking his fingers beside the bed. His eyes opened slowly and focused on the empty space and disheveled sheets next to him. Sitting up, he looked around the room. No clothes. No shoes. No purse. No Renee.

Pulling himself out of the bed, he ran his hand over his dog’s ears and looked around. The sun was cruelly bright this morning, shining through his window like a blazing alarm clock. The bed was a mess, and Renee was gone.

Deep inside, he hoped that she was downstairs fixing breakfast or at the boutique with the patrons, but he knew the truth. There was no need to look for her, and no need to call.

He had done this once. When he woke up in Prague next to Victoria, he too had felt urge to flee. He imagined that he knew every emotion that Renee had felt that morning when she woke. But it wasn’t until now that he knew how Victoria must have felt. The pain of waking up to being alone again. No note. No indication that he’d ever come back. No indication that he’d ever been there.

“The bitch is still getting me back,” he said aloud of Victoria. “Still tormenting me from the grave.”

***

Across town, two members of the Medlov Organized Crime family were meeting without their council and against the code. Over breakfast, Yuri and Oleg, two of the divine 16, were strategizing on what their counter measure would be now that Igor had been murdered. His death in Miami by Anatoly’s hand had been a dreadful blow to their outside income streams.

“He was our man. We should have done more to protect him,” Oleg said, eating his Bavarian pancakes. “How did that little shit ever find out anyway?”

“No one knows. Things were going great. We were cutting into the Cuban gun shipments to pay for the drugs from the Columbians. It was a perfect plan. Now we have to figure something else out or come out of our own pockets to pay for this little operation.”

“If Anatoly knew about the guns, how are we not sure that he doesn’t know about the drugs?”

“Because there hasn’t been anything done about it yet. And we all know that Anatoly is very quick, almost impatient, to act. Otherwise, Igor would still be alive.”

“This could still work, as long as we play it smart. We cannot have another incident like before,” Yuri said quietly. “The last thing that we want is for Dmitry to take things over from Prague.”

“I think he’d clean the entire council, at this point. There wouldn’t be one of us left.” Oleg shoved a pancake into his mouth with his boney fingers.
“We must develop plan,” Yuri said. “There is one last shipment going out to the Cubans for guns. It’s the final shipment of Anatoly’s precious weapons from Sochi. This is going to be major. We must find someone that we can trust to do that last shipment and take our cut. If Anatoly gets his hands on it, our opportunity will be lost, and we will be stuck paying for Columbian’s cocaine or risk waging war. We cannot afford either.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll convince Anatoly to let us handle it. He’s been so removed and wrapped up in whatever is going on in his family that he has little time to deal with these things. For now, we must work on distribution of the next shipment of drugs once they arrive here in three days.”

“Did you secure the warehouse?”

“
Da, da
. It has all been arranged.”

***

Gabriel put his arm around Briggy’s warm body and nuzzled his head into her soft hair.
This is eaven
, he thought to himself. She slept peacefully beside him, curled into his naked body without a care in the world. He wanted to wake her, to see her eyes flit open and gaze at him the way she did to make his heart skip a beat. It had been the same for a week now. Intense love making at night and tutorials from his uncle during the day.

He was forgetting himself, forgetting why he was here. The DEA thought that there were drugs involved, but he had discovered none. They were like weapons of mass destruction at this point. Just a figment of the government’s imagination. And he was here, with his family, setting them up like a snake. Like his father. The pain was ripping at him, tearing him apart. There was not a moment that passed that he wasn’t in complete despair over his actions.

“Good morning,” Briggy said, opening her eyes. She looked up at him and smiled. With a single finger on his lip, she pulled him to her kiss.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, forgetting for a moment all of his woes. Planting his body on top of her, to cover her from the world, he moved her hair out of her face and kissed the side of her neck.

She giggled, biting her lip as she felt his hardness prodding at her leg.

“I have to get up and get breakfast ready for the house,” she said regretfully.

“Do you want me to help you?” he asked, adjusting his long body to move inside of her.

“You’d do that?” she asked surprised.

“Why wouldn’t I? Whatever it takes to get you back into my bed faster, I’ll do.”

“You’re so different,” she said with wonderment in her eyes. “So special.” She trailed her hand over his face.

“I’m not special,” he said, looking away.

“Of course you are. I love your family, Gabriel. But you are different from them. There is so much good in you. You’re very much different from your cousin.”

“Anatoly’s alright,” Gabriel said, dismissing her compliment. “But I don’t want to talk about him right now.” He sat on his knees, grabbed her waist and pushed inside of her.