Sweet Depravity: A Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  His fingers shifted in and out of my body, opening me as his other hand continued to rub my back. Still, I couldn’t stop the rising panic. He was too big. I pulled at my binds. “Untie me.”

  “No.”

  The distinctive sound of a foil wrapper being torn open sounded out like an alarm.

  “Please, I don’t want to be tied up anymore.”

  “No,” came his same unrelenting reply.

  My voice became high-pitched and strained. “You can’t say no when I’m saying no.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  With a cry of frustration, I yanked on the silk tie, which only tightened it further around my wrists, causing angry red marks. Before I could argue again, my body rocked forward as a sharp sting of pain radiated from my right ass cheek.

  He had spanked me!

  The bastard had actually spanked me.

  Casting an outraged look over my shoulder, I raged, “How dare you?”

  He spanked me again.

  “Stop that!”

  He raised his arm. My eyes widened. “Don’t you dar—”

  I wasn’t even able to finish my threat. He spanked me a third time. By now, my skin was on fire. Hot needle pricks ran over my ass and down my thighs. The worst part was it seemed to heighten the pleasurable soreness I was already feeling between my legs.

  “Are you going to be a good girl and obey me, or do I keep spanking you?”

  Under normal circumstances, the sexual threat of that sentence would be scary, but when it was uttered in a heavy Russian accent by a huge Russian criminal who currently had me tied to a bed, it was terrifying.

  “Please,” I begged, although I wasn’t sure what for.

  He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Tell me you’re going to be my good girl.” His free hand reached under my body to caress my breast before pinching my nipple. The sharp stab of pain was another warning.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “I’ll be your good girl.”

  His knuckles brushed my inner thigh as he fisted his cock and rubbed the heavy bulbous head through my slit. I couldn’t contain a whimper.

  Vaska kissed my shoulder. “Shhh, krasotka. This first time will hurt, but I promise it will be worth it.”

  He pushed the head into my tight entrance.

  I fisted my hands, driving my nails into my palms. “Oh, God!”

  His arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place as he pushed inside. His thick cock stretched and strained my inner muscles. With his free hand, he caressed my breast as he whispered soothing words in Russian I couldn’t understand.

  He pushed in another few inches.

  A fine sheen of sweat broke out on my back as I strained to accept him. “Please. You’re too big. It hurts.”

  He ignored my pleas and pushed in another few inches. My body would have buckled forward if not for the binds around my wrists and his grip on my hip. After an eternity of him slowly thrusting forward inch by inch, I felt the pressure of his hips against my ass. He was fully seated inside of me. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, taking deep breaths in and out to control the overwhelming feeling of pressure and fullness. It felt like someone had shoved one of those novelty dildos you know couldn’t possibly fit inside a woman’s body… inside of me.

  He stopped moving, letting me adjust to the feel of him. I could hear his harsh breathing and the flexing and tightening of his fingers on my hip, as if he was trying to keep control.

  Gradually, my body opened and relaxed around his length.

  After another moment, I could feel the return of a delicious sensation between my legs. I pulled my hips slightly forward, feeling him slide out a few inches, and then pressed back into his hips. I rocked slowly back and forth like this several times, each time only letting him slide out an inch or two. Finally, I felt confident enough to shift my hips forward enough to allow several inches of his shaft to slide out, then I pushed back with more force than before.

  Vaska groaned but stayed perfectly still.

  Then I crossed a line.

  I repeated the motion, but this time I boldly shimmied my ass against his abdomen.

  The moment I did so, I knew I was in trouble.

  All the air left the room in a rush.

  The atmosphere crackled with renewed sexual tension.

  He fisted his hand into my hair and wrenched my head back. Biting my earlobe, he growled, “That was just what I was waiting for.”

  Oh, God.

  Vaska took complete control.

  He pulled out and thrust in deep, pounding into my body again and again, every thrust more powerful than the last. His painful grip on my hair held me in place as he rocked his hips into me. Several times he added to the pleasurable pain by spanking my ass with each rhythmic push of his shaft.

  He consumed me. There wasn’t an inch of my body that didn’t feel his touch, his brand, in some way. He was right; this wasn’t sex, not even close. This was fucking. My willpower was gone. As I climaxed for the third time, I screamed. I didn’t have to turn to know he was smirking. I had submitted and given him precisely what he wanted, right down to my orgasmic scream.

  Releasing my hair, he drove into me several more times before reaching his own completion. I collapsed forward onto the pillows, my arms stretched above my head. The heat of his skin scorched my back as he reached over me to untie my wrists. The bed shifted as he rose. He draped a soft blanket over me. I kept my eyes closed as I listened to him dress.

  Outside there was a clamor of raised voices and slamming of car doors. He peeked through the curtains and nodded. “My crew is here to install the security system.”

  For a moment, I was confused, until I remembered his real purpose for even being here this morning. It was funny how three unbelievable orgasms from a completely hot-as-fuck stranger could really scramble a girl’s brain.

  I guessed now he would leave. At least I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. That was how these things always ended in the movies. The guy got what he wanted and then he’d split. I was sure I should be feeling some kind of Catholic guilt bullshit or regret, and maybe I would once I felt human again. For now, I was a satisfied puddle of melted bones.

  Dressed again in his trousers and shirt, he held his suit jacket as he leaned over and brushed the hair from my face. He gave me a kiss on the forehead.

  Here it comes. The promise to call. A promise he would have no intention of fulfilling.

  Without saying a word, he left.

  That bastard!

  The least he could have done was lie to me.

  I waited to hear the closing of the front door, but it never came. A moment later he returned to the bedroom holding my phone. “Unlock it.”

  “What?”

  “Your phone, unlock it.”

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “Mary, you are going to need to work on this nasty habit you have of questioning my orders. I’m being patient and forgiving now, but that will not last.”

  This is him being patient?

  What would him being impatient look like?

  With him staring down at me with those dark, inscrutable eyes, I didn’t have a choice. I typed in zero, one, one, nine, Buffy’s birthday, and unlocked the phone.

  He took it from me and typed something. The phone in his pocket pinged.

  He handed my phone back to me and shrugged into his suit jacket. As he buttoned it, he said, “Whatever plans you have this evening, cancel them. I’ll be here at eight.”

  My mouth fell open. So it was like that? “Just because I let you… fuck me… doesn’t mean I’ll let you do it again. This was a one-time thing.”

  Vaska ran his knuckles down my cheek. “You didn’t let me do anything. I took what I wanted and yes, it will happen again… and again.”

  My cheeks burned at the truth of his implication. Before I could object, he turned to leave the room but not before calling over his shoulder, “Be ready at eight and put some clothes on. If I find out you were half naked in fro
nt of my men, there will be hell to pay tonight.”

  Springing up onto my knees, uncaring for my naked state, I threw the bed pillows at his retreating back.

  I heard his laughter till the front door closed.

  Bastard.

  Well, he was in for a rude surprise if he thought I was going to be here dutifully waiting for him later tonight with my legs open.

  Chapter 4

  Mary

  After wrapping the blanket around myself, I scrambled off the bed and crept over to the window. Careful to stay to the side, out of view, I peeked through the curtains. I watched as Vaska approached a crew of five men unloading a ladder and equipment out of an unmarked black van. The moment he approached, they all stopped what they were doing and gave him their full attention. This was even more astounding given the rough appearance of the crew. They all screamed recently paroled. It was obvious Vaska demanded respect. It was even a little sexy watching him in command. I mean, it had to take a real badass to get the respect of a dangerous-looking crew like that. Well, a badass or a fellow criminal who was even more dangerous than them. Yikes.

  I shifted my stance as I felt a twinge of pleasure between my legs as the scene sparked memories of how he had been in command in this bedroom not an hour earlier, ordering me about, expecting and getting my immediate obedience.

  As Vaska walked away, climbed into an impossibly expensive-looking car, and drove off, I flopped back onto my bed. Staring at the ceiling, I replayed the events of the morning over and over in my head. I needed to understand how that man, a complete stranger, had voodooed me straight into bed like that. There had to have been some kind of dark magic involved. The problem was no matter how I tossed it about in my head, the sequence always seemed the same.

  Open door to crazy hot, sexy, dangerous-looking bad boy stranger.

  He flashes a gun.

  Scream his name while tied to my bed.

  The end.

  I rubbed my eyes. I really needed to stop drinking cheap tequila. Obviously, the tequila shots I had done with Dimitri last night before he left with Emma had scrambled my brain. Thank God I had no intention of ever seeing Vaska again. The idea was ludicrous. A man like that would swallow me whole and spit out my tiny bones when he was done with me. If this was how I acted within minutes of meeting him, I wouldn’t stand a chance if I was actually dating him. Not that he was even offering to date me. It was far more likely he now expected me to be a fun piece on the side. The type of girl he could just fuck whenever and wherever he wanted at the snap of his fingers.

  What angered me… I mean… what really, really pissed me off?

  He would be right.

  With orgasms like that, I would become his little devoted puppy, following him around begging for a treat and, worse, forgiving him when he kicked me. And trust me, the kicks were coming. I had seen enough movies and television shows to know the kicks always came with a man like Vasili Lukovich Rostov.

  My phone buzzed as the screen lit up.

  Grabbing it off the bed, I read the text. It was from Vaska.

  My men are coming inside.

  There was a pause, then another text.

  You better be dressed.

  I looked down at the blanket only loosely wrapped around my body. Fuck. I had on a pair of black capris and my favorite black cardigan with the two clusters of embroidered cherries on the shoulders before I realized that the man had snapped his fingers and I had jumped to obey his command.

  Damn him.

  At the loud knock on the door, I slipped on a pair of red velvet pumps and raced to open it. After that it was just pure chaos. As far as I could tell, they all spoke only Russian and knew just a few English catchphrases and words. No matter what I said or asked, they nodded their heads and said yes and then kept doing whatever they were going to do.

  One of the men dropped a heavy pile of iron rods onto the living room carpet as another one tore down our delicate lace curtains. I guess we were getting bars on our windows now. I couldn’t help but think our apartment would be like a birdcage. Was that how Emma’s boyfriend Dimitri and men like Vaska liked to keep their women? Locking them up in pretty cages where they’d feel safe and protected but not free? I shook my head. That was unfair. The truth was a security system would be a blessing. This building was the best we could afford as graduate students, but it was far from safe and Lord knows the landlord didn’t give a shit about our well-being.

  A third man was adjusting a ladder near the door and had already begun drilling holes into the wall. For what reason, I did not know, but there were lots of electric cords and what looked like a security motherboard resting on a toolbox near his feet. The fourth was drilling a hole high in the wall on the outside of the door and the last man was checking the fuse box, probably double-checking that all of this twenty-second century super-techy security equipment would not blow out our antiquated apartment’s 1950s fuses.

  The man with the iron rods picked one up and came dangerously close to smashing the glass in my framed copy of a signed Buffy the Vampire Slayer script. It was the ‘Restless’ episode from season four where Buffy was stalked by a primal animal force. I tripped over an end table in my race to pull it off the wall and save it. Amid this chaos, Emma walked in.

  Grabbing her by the hand, I dragged her into my bedroom where the noise was down to a muted roar.

  “What is going on?” she asked.

  Shoving the perfume bottles on the top of my vanity aside, I propped up my Buffy frame. It was then I saw Vaska’s cufflinks. He had forgotten them. They were silver with two large blood-red rubies that looked like two demon eyes staring back at me, damning me. I snatched them up and shoved them into my pocket.

  And then I did something I never thought I’d ever do.

  I lied to her.

  Straight to her face.

  I lied to my best friend.

  Actually, technically, I didn’t lie as much as omit some pertinent facts.

  I couldn’t even explain why I did it. It’s not like Emma wouldn’t understand. She’d had a similar experience with her own Russian man. I knew she wouldn’t judge me, just like I hadn’t judged her and really there was nothing to be judged about. I was a grown woman who’d had some amazing sex, end of story.

  For some insane reason, I decided to gloss over the more pertinent events and make light of the entire encounter. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to get into the salacious details while there were five Russian men on the other side of the door, and that was partially true, but not the whole truth. I didn’t know how I felt about my encounter with Vaska and, at least for now, didn’t want to talk about it till I processed my feelings. Plus, I could tell Emma really liked Dimitri, and I knew he was going to be great for her. She needed someone to shake up her world a little bit. Someone to challenge her to be more adventurous and outgoing. He was just the man to do it and I didn’t want my impulsive mistake with his business partner to in any way jeopardize or screw that up for her.

  I rambled the entire half-truth. “It’s the craziest thing. At the ungodly hour of seven o’clock, there’s a knock on our door. I open it to find this drop dead gorgeous man dressed in the most expensive suit I’ve ever seen. Iz zees the aparrrtment of Eeema Doyle, he says. I said yes. Then he says, my name iz Vaska.”

  Fortunately for me, we were both late for class so she didn’t quiz me further.

  As I took a seat in the back of the room at my Reading and Writing in Linguistically Diverse Classrooms, a requirement for the focus I wanted to have with my education graduate degree, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pair of cufflinks. There was no way these weren’t real rubies, which meant these cufflinks were probably worth a small fortune. I could pawn them and cover a portion of my and Emma’s rent for this month with them.

  The thought had merit. It smacked a little of payment for services rendered, but I could get over that part as I imagined Vaska’s face when I cheekily told him I’d pawned his cuf
flinks. Not that I had any plans to see him ever again. I had every intention of being nowhere near my apartment at eight p.m. tonight, just in case he showed up expecting a repeat performance of this morning. After that, he’d probably lose interest, especially if I ignored his texts. I was quite proud of myself for not responding to his text from earlier. The fact that I had reread it a hundred times didn’t count.

  I refused to become intrigued by this man. He was trouble with a capital stay-the-fuck-away T.

  I rolled the cufflinks around on my palm. Even under the awful fluorescent lighting of this classroom, they still sparkled with crimson fire. Did I dare pawn them? What would happen if Vaska tracked me down and learned the truth? I bit my lower lip. Maybe he would spank me for being a bad girl. I shifted in my seat. Maybe he would tie me up to the bed and take off his belt and whip my ass as he made me beg for forgiveness. Or maybe he would make me crawl across the room in penance like that scene from Nine and 1/2 Weeks. Would he take out his cock and force me to suck it? The idea made my cheeks flame as I imagined the terrifyingly long length of his shaft being thrust down my throat. I shifted again and felt a slight twinge of pain. My pussy was still sore from the pounding he had given me earlier.

  I reached for my water bottle and cast my gaze around the classroom, nervous someone was watching me and guessing my illicit thoughts. I had no idea where these thoughts were even coming from. I had never really been the kinky sex type of girl. This morning was the first time a man had ever dared spank me in bed. I still couldn’t believe how much it had turned me on. How much it still turned me on. Was I actually considering pawning this man’s property just to piss him off to see what he would do to me in bed as a punishment? The idea was crazy, especially since I had no intention of ever seeing him again.

  On the way back to my apartment after class, I passed a pawnshop on Devon Avenue. Without giving it further thought, I walked through the door. The man behind the counter gave me an odd look when I laid the cufflinks on the small black velvet square.

  Picking up a jeweler’s loupe, he examined one then the other. “Nice quality. Five carats each. Untreated. Probably an R6/5, maybe even an R7/5.” Lowering the loupe, he narrowed his eyes as he asked, “Where did you get these?”