Ford: The Dudnik Circle Book 1 (2 page)

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Authors: Esther E. Schmidt

BOOK: Ford: The Dudnik Circle Book 1
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He stays perfectly still for a few long moments, which I’m thankful for because it gives my body time to adjust. The pain ebbs away and all that’s left is the overflowing delight of being filled. My inner walls hug the object that seems to fit so perfectly inside.

His fingers bite into my hips when he slides me off his cock and guides me back. I turn my head to press my face deeper into the mattress, preventing myself from crying out in pleasure.

I feel the loss of his hand on my hip a split second before my hair is pulled and the scream of pleasure I was trying to hide escapes freely.

“That’s it. Don’t even fucking think to keep that shit from me. I own anything my cock, mouth, fingers or any other fucking part of my body gives you. Now, give me what I demand, Angel.”

My hips rotate every time he grinds himself hard inside me. The feel of his balls slapping against my clit, the tightness of the rope, the position I’m locked in, my hair in his fist… it’s everything.

Struggling to get the air inside my lungs to stay alive, I am consumed with pleasure. The orgasm that rips through me is none like I’ve ever felt before. This doesn’t compare with the result I achieve when I work my clit with my own fingers. My body needs to give credit to the one who ignited it. His name leaves my lips as it bounces off the wall in a moan, “Grigory, oooohhhh…”

His body falls over my back while he keeps a hard, yet steady rhythm, pumping in and out of me. A few more surges and he bellows, “Fuuuuuckkkk.”

I can still feel his cum pumping as he pulls out. He curses and my eyes study his face in the mirror. He’s watching my pussy. Feeling what he’s seeing, I realize he didn’t wear protection. Shock covers his face and judging from his expression there’s something more than just the condom that’s missing.

Another second goes by before he turns and walks out of the room.

Chapter Two

 

I ain’t no angel, Slick.

 

***Ford***

 

I’ve lost my fucking mind. I’m sure it all went fucking south when she picked me instead of me picking the bitch who would entertain me for two days. How the hell did I end up fucking her, bare for fuck’s sake, and not play with her? I never put my dick inside them. Jerk off? Yes. Pleasure them to satisfy my own cravings? Yes. That’s why they are tied so their hands won’t touch me.

The hot water rushes over my body, soothing me, yet at the same time I feel fucking guilty for leaving her like that. And that right there scares the shit out of me. I never have those kinds of feelings. Hell, most of the time I don’t have feelings, period. Turning off the water, I take a moment to listen for noise. Nothing. The only sound is the water dripping from the showerhead.

After toweling off, I reach for my white and gold embroidered Versace robe and take one last look at my reflection in the mirror. I shake my head. Crossing the hallway, I step inside the bedroom and the smell of sex hits my nose. That’s not fucking helping one bit. I need to focus and get a handle on it.

She’s still in the same position I left her. But now instead of hot and slick with sweat, she’s covered in goosebumps. She cooled off fast from the time I left the room.
Focus
. She’s takeout, I shouldn’t fucking care.

I place my ass on the bed. Her head is turned away from me but when I look into the mirror, our eyes meet. Instead of fear, disgust, defeat…she’s just smiling back at me. I mean, twinkle in the eyes, fucking gorgeous smile, on that angelic face beaming right at me.

My phone starts to ring before I can toss out a remark. Grabbing the damn thing from the bedside table, I glance at the screen but don’t recognize the number. My gang knows not to fucking bother me for two days, so it can’t be any of them. I hit the icon to accept the call. “Speak.”

“You just started a war, you know that, right? I’m going to give you two hours to end it peacefully.” The guy on the other end has a Russian accent and some balls, gotta give ‘em that.

I keep my voice void of all emotion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Put her on the fucking phone; I know you took her. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

My hand falls away from my ear and I press the icon to end the call. Who the hell does this guy think I took and how the fuck did he get my number? Tossing the phone on the bed, I cross my arms and look at her. Sometime during the phone call she turned her head. Her pale blue eyes are locked on mine.

I lace my tone with some humor. “Your boyfriend is a little pissed off, so I gave him some time to cool down.”

Gently shaking her head, she closes her eyes. “Not my boyfriend. My brother must have…”

Her voice trails off when my phone starts to ring again.

“Please let me take that call, I need to…”

Now I’m the one shaking my head, because that’s not going to happen. I accept the call after the fourth ring. “Speak.”

I need to pull the phone away from my ear, that’s how hard the fucker is shouting through the phone.

“Enough!” My angel snarls in Russian.

The guy goes quiet and I’m kind of intrigued. Putting the call on speaker, I throw it on the bed in front of her.

Her eyes stay on me when the guy asks, “You okay, Tarzan?”

Tarzan? What the fuck? I’m sure my eyes go wide as hers twinkle.

“Yeah, just peachy. Little tied up at the moment, yet comfortable. So keep your cool, Nico. I’m going to call back in an hour so don’t do anything until then. Clear?”

“An hour, not one minute longer.” He growls in English before he hangs up.

Why the fuck did he call her Tarzan? The Russian doll tattoo… The gang that uses that signature is the Rybin Gang, with the elusive Tarzan Rybin as their leader. The only contact with the Rybin Gang is through the middle man, Afon, who everyone deals with and meets face-to-face. No one’s met Tarzan and now I know why. It’s no. Fucking. Wonder. Because Tarzan’s a fucking woman.

From what I learned, the nickname Tarzan was given since he… well, clearly she, likes to use ropes. Strangulation techniques, tying assholes up behind a car and dragging them around, tying limbs off and wait for them to die; that kind of shit. But the most famous one was when Tarzan hanged a guy at a construction site and then proceeded to climb the rope and stomp down on the guy’s neck while swinging on the rope. Like she wanted to kill him twice or some shit.

Now it clicks, the fucking rope. No wonder she reacted that way when she came around, tied up on my fucking bed. Fuuuuuuck. This has all gone to shit. “It seems we have a slight problem.”

Her left eyebrow arches with my statement and mischief glints in her eyes. “Says the person who’s not tied up.”

Reaching for my knife, I make fast work to cut her loose instead of taking my time to enjoy freeing her with my hands. This needs to end. Right now. She stands up and rubs the areas that were tied before she lets her hands travel up and down her body. Her very
naked body,
I might add.

“You did well.” Approval rings from her voice.

“What?” I question. “With cutting you loose just now or fucking up?”

The side of her mouth tips up in a smile. “With tying me up and the fucking. The cutting… not so much. Why ruin such a nice thing?”

She saunters over and reaches for the belt of my robe. After loosening the knot, her hands slide in between my shoulders and the robe. It slides off me and falls to the ground around my feet. Then her knees hit the carpet and my mouth goes completely dry.

Fuck. My dick twitches with her face within reach. Her head tilts up, and her eyes flutter. My god, I could come right now, without even so much as her breath stroking my dick. She leans forward and my eyes close in anticipation. But then a rush of cold air hits my body. I open my eyes to see her standing a few feet away, wearing my robe and a satisfied smile.

Determined not to show any signs of emotion, I go to the closet and grab a new one. Yes, I have seven of the exact same robes. I can’t help it, they’re perfect. I need it. Strapping the belt, I turn to face her again.

“Seems like we need to discuss things. Do you want to start?” I lift my chin up in defense.

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to start. What I want, and need, is a shower. Right now.” She’s got her hands across her chest and her bare foot taps on the carpet.

Without a second thought, I walk up to her and lean down into her face. “Well, since you asked nice, by all means… have at it, Angel.”

She stands on her toes to inch her face closer to mine. “I ain’t no angel, Slick.”

My hands slide to her arms and I spin her around, taking her with me toward the door with my hand pressed on her lower back. “Right this way,
Angel Moy
.”

She lets me guide her out of the room and across the hall. I could have let her use the bathroom attached to my bedroom, except for some reason I guide her to the one I prefer to use. It’s actually a bedroom turned into a bathroom. It’s massive, with a tub you could easily label as a tiny pool. The shower is a long line of rain downpour and is decorated all around with natural stone panels.

In one swift move, she shrugs out of the robe and walks off, naked, to the shower. Adjusting the water temperature, she throws her head back and glides her hands over her face. Water slides down her arms and back, trailing along that soft, inked skin.

I can’t help but stare at her beauty. Damn, I really fucked up here and yet I can’t fucking help the content feeling that washes over me because she’s here with me right now. Fuck. Why the fuck was she alone in that bar? And come to think of it… how the hell did they know and find out I had her?

Dropping both robes, I step in behind her. I reach for her waist and pull her back against my chest. She isn’t even shocked but throws her hands back to grab my hair. Her head falls to the side as she guides my face so my lips have no choice but to latch on to her neck.

I slide one hand up over her belly to cup one of those magnificent tits so I can tweak her nipple. She leans that tight ass into my hard cock. One movement against it and I yet again lose all sanity.

“Hands against the tiles. Now.” I order.

Her hands slap against the wall as I anchor her with one hand while the other grasps my dick. She only has a second to brace herself before my cock finds its way inside her. She rotates her hips as if she’s trying to get closer. That would be kind of hard since I’m balls deep in the best pussy ever.

Who am I kidding? The
only
pussy my cock has ever seen since I never bury myself inside one. I was close once; way back when I still lived in Russia. A man needed to be taught a lesson, and I intended to teach it by using his daughter.  I bent her over the table and ripped her pants down, set to rape her. That moment ruined my life, but probably not as much as it ruined hers. Even though my dick never came near her pussy, I’m sure she was traumatized for life. I’ve never put my dick near another woman.

And while I didn’t carry through with the lesson, the action did catch the eye of Nestor Orlov. He was the former head of the gang that now carries my name. So I guess I didn’t completely ruin my life. Just fucked it over pretty well.

The only attention my cock gets now are during those four times a year when I indulge and it’s from my own hands. I give the women pleasure while I get myself worked up, horny as fuck and then I take care of business. Twisted, believe me, I know. That’s why it’s such a shocker to be turned on instantly by this Angel. The pussy I’m pumping in and out of right now? My dick is sliding through such tight warmth that jerking off will never be enough from this point forward.

Driving into her harder, she has no other option but to brace her weight against her forearms instead of her palms. I need to feel her, me,
connected
. My hand slides down and my fingers trail the lips of her pussy surrounding my cock while I’m driving in and out of her. I take some of her wetness on my thumb and then find her tight ring. Slowly pushing inside with short thrusts, I watch as her teeth sink into her own arm.

Fucking hell. The burn in my balls lights up and it’s taking more strength to hold back than it takes to keep thrusting hard. My thumb slides deeper inside her ass and I can feel myself pumping through the thin layer between her ass and cunt.

She moans as her inner walls start to spasm. While I want to fuck her for the next twenty minutes, my balls decide twenty seconds is the limit. Again, my cock pulses and cum shoots deep inside her. Sliding my thumb out, I keep my dick buried deep. I’ve already shot my load twice now, so I might as well enjoy the feeling.

Her head pulls back and she leans against my chest. With her eyes fixed on my mouth, she tilts her face and bites softly on my lower lip before she kisses me. Her tongue invades my mouth and fuck me… it’s addictive. My hands travel from her waist to her perfect rack and I tweak those hard nipples simultaneously.

Taking a step forward so I can pin her body against the wall, I slide one hand into her hair so I can guide her head. The other kneads her breast while my fingers strum her nipple. Swallowing her moan of approval, I rein in the need to fuck her again and pull back. I use every last ounce of my self-control and rest my forehead against the side of her face.

Panting for my next breath, I say, “You’re addictive. Insanity ignites in me whenever I touch that delightful body of yours.”

She groans. “Ditto. You know the moment you wrapped your hand around my wrist and pulled me into your body… If you hadn’t snatched me, I would have snatched you.”

My head falls back and the bark of laughter bounces off the bathroom walls.

The painful sting on my nipple cuts off my laugher. Looking down I see the fingers, that just fucking pinched me, fall away. “What the hell did you do that for?”

I let her push me away from her body. “Because, Slick… you made fun of my seriousness. I would have you tied to my bed like I would have done with any other guy I picked up.” Fury laces her voice, like it burns in my veins, at her admission.

I close the distance between us and get up in her face. “You pick up guys, tie them down, and fuck them?” I all but spit in her face in anger.

“Says the guy who drugs a woman, strips her and ties her down, waits for her to wake up, and fucks her only to walk away. Any judgement left to throw at me, asshole?”

She’s so fucking gorgeous when her eyes gleam with fire. I have no claim on her, but deep down I have to admit to the instinctual need to do just that. Ignoring that shocking thought, I ask the more important question.

“How many?” My voice is stern, demanding an honest answer.

She keeps her eyes locked with mine when she says, “Once a month, for the last four years.”

Stepping away from her body, I spin around so she doesn’t see the disgust on my face. Hearing her footsteps walk away, I turn my head to see her grab a towel.

“Just so you know, and I don’t have to say a fucking thing and I don’t fucking care if you believe me or not, but I never let them fuck me.” Her voice is lacking all emotion and somehow that bugs me even more than her words.

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