Sold to the Hitman: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Novel (33 page)

M
y heart is pounding so
hard I’m afraid it might actually jump out of my chest. I can hear my own blood rushing in my ears and I am gripping the sides of the leather passenger seat so hard my knuckles are bony-white. Ivan is driving my car away from the scene of the crime because I am obviously in no place to get behind a steering wheel. It’s around noon and we are headed into the city, retreating to Ivan’s place. I feel like every nerve in my body is electrified; I am hyper-aware of every tree and car we pass. I’m staring out the window, deep inside my own mind, trying to remember to breathe like a normal person.

“Relax your jaw,” Ivan says, and his voice makes me jump a little. He glances over and gives me a sympathetic look. “You’re grinding your teeth. Going to give yourself a nasty headache doing that.”

“S-sorry,” I stammer, massaging my jaw self-consciously. I hadn’t even noticed.

Ivan reaches across the console and places a warm, comforting hand on my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t apologize. You’re okay. Everything is fine.”

“W-what’s going to happen now?” I ask, turning to him and searching his face for answers. I stare at his rugged profile, that gently hooked nose and sensuous lips. A smile twitches at his mouth.

“Nothing you have to worry about.”

“Are they — is the mafia going to take care of the, um, the…”

“The body?”

“Yeah,” I choke out. Ivan pats my leg and takes both my hands in his.

“Yes,
mishka
. They will take care of everything. The worst is behind us. The Bratva are very efficient at what they do. I swear to you, the place will be even cleaner than it was yesterday by the time they’re done with it.”

“And Natalie?”

“She will never have any idea that anything happened there at all. I strongly advise you not to tell anyone about what you saw today,” he adds. “It is safer that way.”

I nod quickly. I have absolutely no intentions of sharing this experience with anyone else for the rest of my life. I am taking the events of today to my grave.

“I could never tell anyone without incriminating myself. I mean, I was there. I had a hand in it. I am guilty,” I say slowly, as though trying to convince myself of the reality. It’s strange, I don’t feel like I expected to. I had anticipated overwhelming guilt, hysterics, maybe denial. But instead I feel strangely relieved. My father’s killer is dead.

“No, Katy,” Ivan replies solemnly, looking over at me with a very emphatic gaze. “You are guilty of nothing. As far as the mafia is concerned, you weren’t even there. And we will defend that statement with our lives. Even if we were to be discovered somehow — which will not happen — you will never be mentioned. You are entirely innocent of this,
moy sladkiy
.”

“But I was there. I helped you… kill a man.” I breathe the words softly. There is an audible sense of wonder in my voice. Part of me wants to address this now, go ahead and scream my feelings out, go ahead and enroll myself in the many years of therapy I should probably get. But an even bigger part of my consciousness is just glad it’s over. I feel like a massive burden has been lifted from my shoulders, like I’ve finally completed a task I’ve been putting off for far too long.

“You did well.”

“You think the mafia will hire me, too?” I joke weakly.

Ivan chuckles. “No,
mishka
. I don’t think you’re quite cut out for a life in the shadows. But it is true that I could never have done this without your help. We cannot have a renegade
ubiytsa
acting outside of ordered hits. It’s unprofessional. For your assistance in taking Konrad down, the mafia will grant you unconditional protection beyond what even I can offer you alone. Katy, you will never have to fear anything or anyone ever again.”

“I just thought I would feel worse about this,” I admit.

“I know what you mean,” he replies. “When I killed the men who murdered my mother and sister I feared that I would feel guilty. I feared that I would never wash the blood from my hands, that they’d be stained red for the rest of my life. I was afraid that their faces would haunt my dreams. But in the end, I was relieved. It felt like justice had finally been restored. I balanced the scales and set the world straight again. Perhaps it is a bizarre version of justice, but it is mine, and it is the code by which I live my life. I do not regret my choices, and neither should you.”

“I don’t regret it yet, but I feel like maybe it’ll be a delayed reaction,” I tell him honestly.

“Well, if it does hit you later and you start to feel bad, come to me. I will make you feel right again, I promise. I will always make things better, however I can.” He pauses to look at me as we stop at a red light. “Katy, our year together may have started under strange circumstances. I know that if things were different, we probably would never have met. But I want you to know that I have never done this before — any of this. And that it means something to me.
You
mean something to me.”

His words send a happy shiver down my spine. Ivan is kind, he is devoted, but rarely is he so expressive with his emotions. I lift his hand and kiss each of his knuckles fondly. He gazes at me with his mouth parted slightly, his eyes roving over my face, focusing on my lips. Just that look is enough to make me wish we were already at the apartment. I want to crawl across the console and straddle him in the damn driver’s seat.

The light turns green and we speed off immediately, breaking at least a few traffic laws to make the rest of the trip as brief as possible. Finally we screech to a stop outside the big marble building and before I can even unbuckle my seatbelt, Ivan has bounded out and around the car to open my door and pull me out. There, in the busy noonday streets of New York City, with the ever-present car horns and sirens in the distance, he sweeps me up into a deep, encompassing kiss. His hands reach around to wrap themselves in my hair, pulling me close. I know he is probably getting a little blood on my cheek from the slash down his face, but I don’t care.

In fact, I don’t care what else happens. All that matters right now is the handsome, impossibly strong man holding me in his arms. I want him to crush me into him, I want him to take me and make me forever his. Ivan is all that I need.

“This year has meant something to me, too,” I tell him breathlessly between kisses. “Ivan, you mean everything to me.”

He cups my face in both hands, staring into my eyes with that smoldering blue gaze. I want to kiss him endlessly, fall into his arms, into his warmth forever. I want him, all of him — the dark and the light.

“
Ya tebya lyublyu
,” he whispers, and I don’t even have to ask what that means.

“I love you, too,” I answer, without hesitation.

For the first time, I see a full, unabashed grin spread across his sharp features. This is a thousand-watt smile I have not seen the likes of before. He is a ray of radiant light, a pillar of noonday sun beamed into my world, and I suddenly cannot imagine a life without him in it.

I kiss him hard, with my emotions compelling my every movement. It feels like my skin is aflame — I am burning for him, to be near him, to be with him. I need him inside of me.

And it is evident that Ivan feels the same. He grasps me by the hand and pulls me out of the street, onto the pavement, and through the revolving doors. My coat billows out in the brisk air, nearly revealing my lingerie-clad body, but I can’t bring myself to care at all. At this point, I would dance naked through the crowded streets of New York City just to follow Ivan anywhere he wanted to go. I would do anything.

We bolt through the lobby and I can’t help but let out a peal of genuine laughter. Ivan glances back at me with a full-on grin and hurries me into the elevator.

As soon as the metal doors shut, he pushes me against the cold walls and pins my arms above my head, biting kisses into the flesh of my neck and collarbone. A long moan escapes my lips as my eyes roll toward heaven. He nudges my legs apart with his knee and rubs against me, his massive cock hard on my bare thigh. I want to fuck him here in the elevator, but too quickly there’s a high-pitched ding, and the doors slide open again. Ivan hoists me into his arms and carries me bridal-style into his apartment, his lips locked with mine.

Before we even make it to the bedroom, he drapes me over the couch and jerks my legs open, hooking a finger under my panties to slide them out of the way. He drops to his knees and immediately plunges his tongue inside me, sucking at my clit and dragging his tongue up and down along my folds. I throw my head back and grip the edges of the couch to keep from falling off. Ivan isn’t holding back in the least, devouring my pussy like a hungry animal.

“You’re so wet for me,” he growls from between my legs.

“I can’t help myself,” I reply, breathing hard.

“Neither can I,” Ivan says. The next moment he eases a finger into my cunt, his tongue still lapping at my clit. He curls his finger up in a come-hither gesture inside of me, gently pumping back and forth, in and out. Each motion strokes that deep, forbidden part of me that sends my every nerve into overdrive. I can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that erupts from my mouth when he speeds up, caressing my g-spot over and over again while his warm, wet tongue sucks up my juices and toys with my bud.

As I begin to rock against his face, riding the rhythm of his fingers and tongue working in tandem, he groans his satisfaction. The deep thrum of his voice through my pussy makes me shudder and clutch the couch as my first orgasm reaches its crest. I can feel the walls of my cunt contracting around Ivan’s finger, but he doesn’t ease up. I almost want to recoil from him, give my body a chance to recover, but Ivan isn’t having any of that.

He tugs me closer to him, burying his face in my cunt, breathing in the scent of my sex and licking up my sweet honey as though it’s the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth. He speeds up his machinations, finger-fucking me hard and fast. My clit is so overstimulated that it almost hurts, but before long I feel another orgasm crashing down on me.

This time, Ivan merely lays his face on my exposed stomach and wraps his arms around me as I tremble through waves of overwhelming bliss, holding me tight. Then he stands up, pulls my panties down, and tosses them aside. He turns me around and takes my heavy coat, draping it over the back of the couch before he moves back to unhook my bra. My breasts fall free and he reaches around to hold them, massaging them gently in his large, calloused hands. He presses a kiss to the ticklish, bare skin of my neck.

“You are so beautiful, Katy,” he murmurs. “I have never held such a lovely and delicate creature in my arms. I cannot wait to make you mine.”

“Take me, please,” I reply quietly, leaning back into him, letting myself fall limp in his strong, capable arms. Never have I felt so protected and safe and cherished. Adrenaline still prickles in my veins and it makes me feel bold, ravenous for him.

He leads me away into the bedroom, where he quickly undresses. He lifts me onto the bed, cradling my head as he lays me down amid a sea of blankets and pillows. Ivan climbs over me, kissing his way up my body, showering my exposed skin with bruising marks and delicate, feather-light pecks alike. I want to give him everything. I want so badly for him to peel me open like a flower, fill me up and make me feel whole.

Finally his lips find their way to mine and he kisses me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth as he hands stroke my face, my hair. I know exactly what I want.

“Ivan,” I murmur, “I need to feel you inside me. I want to be close to you.”

He reaches down between my legs to stroke my clit, jolting me with a shock of pleasure.

“I want you,” he says, “I want you forever,
mishka
.”

“You can have me — everything, every part. I belong to you. Mafia or not, no matter what, I belong to you,” I tell him, the words spilling freely from my mouth.

He rests his forehead against mine and whispers, “Katy,
lyubov moya
, I have been searching for so long to feel this way. Not since I first left Russia have I felt so secure, so complete. You make me feel like I am home again. No matter where I go, as long as you are beside me, I will be happy. You carry my home in your heart.”

He kisses me once more and then he pulls back to position the head of his hard shaft against my eager opening. I roll my hips upward, urging him to hurry. So many emotions are coursing through my body and I need him now more than ever.

With a smile, he pushes inside of me, unprotected and uninhibited.

The sensation is magnificent. I feel so close to him as he pumps into me with abandon. I know he has been waiting for this moment for a long time, and I realize now that so have I.

“Oh, my angel,” he groans, leaning forward to kiss my breasts, my neck, to bite my lips and whisper words I don’t understand into my ear.

“Ivan, please,” I whimper, my legs wrapping around his waist. “I need you.”

He pushes into me hard, hitting that delicious place deep inside so that every thrust drives me closer and closer to another climax. I reach for him blindly, fumbling to pull him ever closer, to melt into him. I clench my pussy around his cock, rocking against his rhythmic thrusts, desperate to make him feel the same bliss that he gives me. And the look on his face tells me that I am succeeding.

“Please, I need you to fill me up,” I croon.

“Are you sure?” he asks, but his eyes reveal how badly he wants it, too.

“More than ever,” I reply assuredly.

And with that, with one final push, I scream out my orgasm and he follows suit, spilling his hot, precious seed inside of my hungry cunt. I clench my legs around him, clinging to every last drop of his honey. He kisses me with abandon, his hands brushing my hair out of my face, caressing my cheeks, stroking my arms, my waist.

For hours we stay in bed together, entwined in both lust and newfound love.