Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride (18 page)

She pulled her legs up into the seat and snuggled in close. It felt wonderful to be beside him. “I’m so glad you came to find me.”

He gently smoothed a few stray hairs away from her face. “I was surprised when you left.”

“I regretted it almost as soon as I did, but I was so angry. And I was worried because I knew that what Yakov had said was true. You needed some sort of agreement with the Sokolovs.”

“I think Yakov was surprised when I came up with an alternative to marrying Bianka.”

Trisha placed her palm against Anatoly’s and marveled at how big and strong his hands were compared to hers. “I don’t think Yakov will ever underestimate you again when it comes to getting something you want.”

“No. Probably not.”

“Did you tell Motya Sokolov that his daughter is being held for attempted murder in the US?”

“Not yet.” Anatoly sounded glum.

Trisha mulled over what his tone could mean. “You sound almost sad. I think you like that old man.”

“I do, actually. It surprised me, but the two of us have quite a lot in common. And I cannot imagine having a daughter like Bianka.”

Trisha snorted, not wanting the father to get away with being cast as the victim in this melodrama. “There was a good amount of indulgence that went on for her to be so horrid.”

“Very likely,” he agreed. “Does that mean that our daughters will be materialistic witches who demand more money and resources?”

Trisha laughed. She climbed onto Anatoly’s lap and gave him a teasing nip on the mouth. “They’d better not. I’ll pound their backsides.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

She kissed him then, sinking into the contact and feeling as though she could not get enough. He responded almost instantly. His arms wound around her body, and he pulled her as close as possible until there was no space between them.

“Trisha, I must have you,” he whispered fervently.

“Here?”

“It’s a private plane. They will leave us alone.”

“Okay, that’s just
naughty
!” She felt a delicious thrill at the thought.

Sliding off his lap, she unfastened her jeans and shimmied them down her legs. Then she removed her panties. Twirling them around one finger, she let them fly onto the bank of seats behind her.

Kneeling in front of her husband-to-be, Trisha unfastened his slacks. She pulled his cock out into her hand. He was already hot and hard. She gave him a few short pumps, and he hissed in response. She had a thousand ideas of what she might like to do. She could taste him, or maybe feel him come inside her mouth and swallow his seed. But in the end, the only thing that mattered was getting as close as possible and reaffirming the connection between them.

She climbed up onto his lap and hovered just above his groin. He gazed into her face, and she shivered at the desire she saw reflected in his eyes. It felt so good to be wanted like that. And when she felt his hard cock probe her wet opening, she trembled. It felt so good. She was so wet and achy. Her pussy was swollen, and the cream was so thick it coated the insides of her thighs.

“Take me,” he said roughly. “Now, Trisha. Right now.”

She reached between them and wrapped her hand around his cock. Fitting the head to her opening, she sank down on his shaft in one long stroke. The sensation of being filled until she was bursting nearly made her come then and there. It was so good!

His hands settled on her hips. He helped her set a rhythm. She placed her hands on his shoulders, careful to avoid the bandage. Rocking against him, she felt her inner muscles begin to tighten as she got closer and closer to her peak. He was watching her. That knowledge alone made her just that much hotter. This incredible, handsome, successful and powerful man wanted her and her alone. He didn’t want to make her his mistress. He didn’t want her for a few months or years until he lost interest. He wanted to marry her and make a life with her.

Throwing her head back, Trisha let go with a groan of pure pleasure. An orgasm ripped through her body and left her weak with release. Had Anatoly not been holding her in place, she would have toppled over backward. She gave his powerful arms her full weight. He held her in place on his cock with his hands on her hips. One last thrust into her wet pussy, and she felt him pour his seed deep into her body.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “And mine. All mine.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Yours.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave again,” he begged softly.

Trisha sat up and opened her eyes. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and ran the pads of her thumbs over his lips. “You’re mine. I’m not going to leave. I promise.”

“I know it was my actions that made you go before,” he said softly. “I promise I will never disrespect you like that again.”

Trisha smiled, giving in to a little chuckle of amusement. “I know you won’t. But I’m not going to leave if you do. I’ll just hang around to give you hell.”

Epilogue

Two years later…

“Mama, I don’t know if I’m quite comfortable with the idea of you leaving Anatoly and Daddy in the same room with baby Ana,” Trisha fretted.

Her mother gave an airy wave of one hand. “Don’t be silly. There is no way either of those men are going to do anything to harm one hair on that baby’s head.”

Trisha had to admit that her mother was right. Her parents’ decision to give her the silent treatment as punishment for her decision to marry a Russian mafia king had lasted as long as it took for Trisha to get pregnant. Once their first grandchild was born, there had been an almost immediate request for the jet to be sent to Cleveland to pick them up. Since then, they had come over at least once a quarter. Each visit was a little less uncomfortable. Meaning that her father and her husband no longer glared at each other from opposite ends of the room. Occasionally they even spoke to each other.

“Anatoly certainly seems like an involved father,” her mother commented.

Trisha bobbed her head as she prepared a plate of chopped up bits of ham for her toddler’s lunch. “Yes. He’s done the diapers, the midnight feedings, and even baby baths as often as he can.”

“I don’t think I remember your father doing those things for you,” Mama said as she wistfully set up the high chair for Ana’s midday meal. “He was always so busy at work. Life was all about promotions and swing shifts.”

“I’m sorry.” Trisha meant it too. “I can’t imagine trying to parent without Anatoly’s help.”

Her mother touched her shoulder. “You picked a good husband.”

“I thought you still hated the fact that he is what he is.”

“The more I think about it, the more I realize that Anatoly is no different than most of the law enforcement guys your father works with. They all do favors for each other, pull strings, and cheat when life calls for it.”

“That pretty much sounds like Anatoly’s version of playing mafia,” Trisha agreed. “I always knew he wasn’t like the others.”

“I suppose we should have trusted your judgment of character,” Mama admitted. Then she threw her arms around Trisha and squeezed her tight. “I’m so very proud of you, my little girl.”

“It means a lot to hear you say that,” Trisha admitted.

“Your dad is too,” Mama assured her. “Sometimes it’s just harder for him to say it.”

“Maybe.”

Her mother pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’ll go get the boys and tell them lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Trisha watched her mother leave the kitchen, and felt relieved that she and her mother were back on good terms. She just wished she could feel as if her father had truly accepted her choice.

ANATOLY WAS TIRED of his father-in-law’s constant glares from across the room. Jonathan Copeland showered his granddaughter Ana with love and attention, all the while slipping in a chance to shoot Anatoly a dirty look.

“You know,” Anatoly drawled. “That baby has fifty percent of me in her.”

“She’s my daughter’s daughter,” the stubborn old man argued.

Anatoly wasn’t buying it. “She is my daughter as well.”

“I wish it was otherwise.”

“Then she wouldn’t be who she is,” Anatoly pointed out.

Ana smiled her gummy baby smile at her grandfather and nearly gouged out his eyes with her tiny fingers. Anatoly loved his wife, but he had never felt anything so strong as what he felt for Ana. It had given him a whole new appreciation for the stubborn old man across the room.

“I forgive you, you know,” Anatoly said calmly.

“What?”

“For your stupidity in putting my Trisha at risk when you invited Bianka into your home.” Copeland was still sputtering, so Anatoly kept talking. “You love Trisha the way I love Ana. I would have done that much and more to remove a threat from Ana’s life. I cannot fault you for that anymore. But I can remind you that if you love your granddaughter, you really need to mend the rift between yourself and her mother.”

“What rift?” the old man growled.

“The one that makes my wife cry at night sometimes.”

Anatoly knew the moment his words sank into Copeland’s heart. Tears beaded in the old man’s eyes. He heaved a great sigh and stood up, cradling eighteen-month-old Ana against his chest.

Copeland inhaled a shaky breath. “You’re a good father and a good provider. I don’t approve of what you do, but I can respect a man that knows how to make money and take care of his family.”

“Thank you.” It was all Anatoly would say on the subject.

He watched Copeland carry the baby into the kitchen and followed. The man set the baby in her highchair and then gently touched his daughter’s shoulder. Trisha turned around, obviously surprised.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?”

Copeland cleared his throat. “I need to tell you that you’ve done well for yourself, kiddo.”

“What?”

“I said that you’ve done well for yourself. You have a husband who loves you to distraction and the most adorable little girl on the planet.” Copeland reached out and pulled Trisha into his arms. “I’m sorry I’m such an old grouch.”

“Daddy,” Trisha said tearfully. “I don’t care that you’re an old grouch. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say.”

“Then you can hear it now.”

Trisha’s gaze flitted around the kitchen until it landed on Anatoly. She smiled a big smile that made his heart swell with love. He winked at her and made a little shooing gesture with his hands.

She cleared her throat. Her mother had just come back into the kitchen, and now she faced them both. “I should tell you that we’re expecting another baby.”

“What?” Her mother began jumping up and down with excitement. “That’s wonderful news! Just wonderful!”

Copeland turned around and gave Anatoly a nod of approval. “Congratulations…son.”

It was a little on the odd side, but it was good. Anatoly could have never expected such an end to his life. Yet he was happier now than he’d ever dreamed possible.

Yes. It was good.

THE END

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Russian Mobster’s Forbidden Mistress

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All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 2016 Bella Rose

Chapter One

Daniella Mikalevich put in her earbuds and turned up the volume on her MP3 player. Unfortunately, that did almost nothing to drown out the sound of her idiotic brother and his pals. The menfolk were downstairs playing poker. Considering the raucous shouting and rude noises going on down there, it was really no wonder that most of those guys were still single.

Belting out the lyrics to her favorite song, Dani dug through her boxes looking for her club wear. She had only left her college dorm room behind three days ago, yet she was already regretting her decision to spend the summer at home with her ailing father. Mostly she was disgusted by having to be anywhere near her older brother.

Dani was spinning around in circles while using a hairbrush like a microphone when someone pounded with such force on her bedroom door that it drowned out the music.

Already knowing full well who was on the other side of the door, Dani flung it open. “What?”

“Your shrieking is making it impossible for us to finish our game,” Mikhail said angrily.

Dani and her brother had never been close. He was two years older and had a mean streak that always made her uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t have to keep turning up my music if you and your perpetually adolescent friends weren’t down there making so much noise. I swear, Mikhail, are you guys watching porn or something?”

“With Papa’s spoiled little princess back in the house?” Mikhail sneered. “Not likely.”

They were speaking in English, but Mikhail’s voice carried more than a hint of a Russian accent while Dani’s carried none. She still spoke Russian quite fluently, but her father had sent her to a prestigious boarding school, and then a good university out of an honest desire to see Dani become Americanized.