Criminal
Twelve weeks later…
Warm hands caressed the concave valley between my hipbones, and my husband trailed soft kisses down my neck, waking me from a deep sleep. Moonlight spilled over our bedroom, and the sound of our baby sleeping peacefully in the nursery filled the air with the joyful sounds of parenthood. I rolled over and shared a smile with my sexy Russian.
“Dobry utro, angel. Happy anniversary.” Vladimir wrapped his naked body around me and snuggled me against him. The sensation of our intimate skin-to-skin contact and his warm breath on my neck aroused me. He’d been out of town on business for a week and had returned home while I was sleeping. I welcomed him back to our bed with kisses and reminisced with him about our beautiful outdoor wedding in Ekaterinburg one year ago.
On our wedding day, Vladimir had transformed the spacious back yard of his Russian mansion into an idyllic fairytale setting for our special day. I remembered the fragrant scent of Vladimir’s homegrown red and pink roses that adorned the archway where I made my grand entrance. Mari and Ruslana served as our flower girls and looked adorable in frilly pink dresses as they scattered rose petals along the path to the altar. A trio of violinists played a romantic melody, and Pasha walked me down the aisle to stand with my husband inside a beautiful golden gazebo.
Vladimir was waiting to greet me in his tuxedo, exuding confidence accentuated with a handsome smile. His eyes lit up and he seemed a bit mesmerized when he saw me in my elegant wedding gown. Although the scene was more beautiful and romantic than I could have ever imagined, we were under tight security because of Maksim. But despite the dangers we faced, our wedding was perfect—minus the armed guards toting AK-47s and military grade assault weapons surrounding the perimeter to stave off an assassination attempt. I chose to erase that small detail from my mind and focus on our beautiful ceremony instead.
“Ready to open your presents, angel?”
“Vladimir, please. What more could I possibly want?” While he was out of town last week, he had fresh flowers delivered to me every morning. Elegantly wrapped packages that held extravagant gifts from the finest shops in the world arrived daily, and he’d hidden love notes in my lingerie drawer, under my pillow, and in the baby’s room under a stack of fresh diapers. Vladimir loved to spoil me, and I appreciated everything he did for me, but it felt lame for me to buy anything for him in return.
His suits and shirts were custom made, and he already had dozens of expensive watches, cufflinks, and gold rings with precious stones. There was nothing on this planet I could buy for him that seemed special enough, so I had to get creative and come up with a spectacular surprise fit for the pakhan. But, there was a potential problem. I had something perfect in mind, but the surprise would either be incredibly beautiful and romantic—or it would completely piss him off.
I thought about surprising him with a safe bet like a horseback riding trip followed by a romantic picnic lunch. I knew he would love that, but I wanted to do something extra special, even if the idea was a little chancy. Not surprisingly, I chose the risky option. I had pulled the trigger on my epic surprise and there was no turning back, but I had to keep it under wraps until the perfect moment.
I loved keeping my secret hidden from him and savored the idea that I had an ounce of control over my powerful husband. “I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
“I know, but this is a good one. It’s in this room, and I haven’t wrapped it yet. Can you leave for a minute so I can prepare your gift?”
Vladimir sighed in mock frustration and kissed my lips. “Don’t be long.” He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Once I heard the shower running, I skittered off to the closet to prepare his special surprise. I slipped into a tiger print bustier, matching panties, garter belt, and thigh-high lacy black stockings. Then I slid on a robe to shield my surprise, stepped into a pair of golden stilettos, and sauntered into the bathroom.
Vladimir had finished his shower and was standing naked in front of the mirror and combing his hair. The glass was fogged up from the shower, and I stared into the mist until I caught his attention. My gaze drifted around his nakedness, taking in his long and lean body, his tight ass, and his Russian tattoos that told his life story on his skin. As I visually took a lap around my husband’s rocking body, he wiped away the condensation on the glass. His expression intensified with desire when he spotted me standing behind him in my sexy lingerie.
Turned on by his hungry eyes, I held up my hand, clawed at the air, and hissed like a wild cat. I locked my gaze on his reflection and prowled toward him as if stalking my prey. When I was an arm’s length away, I lightly scratched my nails down his back. He inhaled sharply and groaned, a telltale sign he was aroused. I snaked my arms around him and ran my tongue across the forever tattoo on his back, purring seductively as I rocked against his backside and stroked his growing erection.
He turned to face me, slid the robe off my shoulder, and licked his lips when he caught sight of my sexy tiger-print bra. “I changed my mind. I love surprises.”
I shook my head. “That’s not your surprise, babe. Your special gift is a little lower.” I picked up his hand and directed it to the silky belt that held my robe closed. “Unwrap me, boss.”
Vladimir bit his lip as he untied the belt, peeled off my robe, and tossed it on the floor. His eyes sharpened when at last I revealed my secret. His hands traveled to my hip and he outlined my tattoo with the tip of his finger. I had our forever heart, the symbol of our love, immortalized on my skin and hidden in a special place for his eyes only. I made a few modifications to the original design, but kept the outline of the winged heart with an arrow through it to match the one inked on his back. Vladimir had the word ‘Forever’ scrolled across the center, but I changed mine up a bit. Instead of having the word inked in English, I translated the word into Russian—navsegda.
I held my breath, waiting for a response that never came. I couldn’t tell if he loved it or if I had made a monumental mistake that would remain on my body and serve as a reminder of my past. Like the pakhan, I had earned my Bratva ink too. I wanted to leave a mark on my own skin to serve as a reminder of my sordid history and all the hell I’d gone through to protect my loved ones.
I watched him breathlessly as he studied the work of my talented tattoo artist, Dmitri. The forever heart was topped with a crown, like the one Vladimir had inked on his finger, to symbolize my royal status within our organized crime family. I was married to the pakhan, which made me his queen. Vladimir had five dots inked on his hand that represented his time served in Siberia. I added the dots too, but had two on one side of the heart and three on the other to represent us as a couple, and then our three children. Lastly, I had Dmitri add my nickname to the top of the crown. I had earned the moniker of a mama grizzly bear during my fight with Valentina, and the guys had made “Grizz” my official code name for our security team.
My husband’s silence terrified me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Vladimir lifted his gaze to mine and stared into my eyes. “I’m thinking my wife looks like a criminal.”
My shoulders slumped and I felt tormented with guilt. I should’ve known he wouldn’t have approved of me getting a tattoo. I was his wife, not one of his cohorts. Marking my skin was an insult, and now he would see my stupid idea every time I took my clothes off. I turned to walk away, but he grasped my forearm and pulled me back to him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He grabbed my wrists and pinned me against the wall, using his strong body to hold me in place.
“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to insult—”
“I’m married to a fucking badass, incredibly sexy and desirable criminal,” Vladimir teased. “You wear Bratva ink well, angel.” The boss trailed kisses down my neck and fired off a string of sexy commands in Russian, ordering me to spread my legs and brace myself for a hard and fast ride. He slid off my thong and stripped off my bra, but left on the garter belt, lacy stockings, and stilettos.
“Vladimir, please.” I struggled to free myself, but I had no chance of escaping from my powerful, sexually charged husband. “You’re not mad, right?”
He captured me in his arms and dragged me to the bedroom. He pushed me down on the bed, pinned my arms over my head, and sucked on my breasts. I melted under the weight of the pakhan’s ripped body and moaned with excitement as his tongue lashed across my nipples. I loved the way Vladimir dominated in the bedroom, and I craved every inch of his hard, tattooed body. I battle-tested my husband’s strength and fought to free myself, but he kept a tight grip around my wrists and wouldn’t let me go.
“You have two choices, Grizz. One, I will take you hard and fast from behind, right here in our bed.”
I eyed him sternly, pretending to be annoyed, but his sexual ultimatum had me tingling. “What’s the other option, boss?”
“I will fuck you in the shower. Name your choice.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling as I thought it over, but apparently, I kept him waiting too long. He slid behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and positioned me on all fours. While I was in a vulnerable position, he slipped his finger between my legs and massaged my sweet spot as he growled with satisfaction.
“You like it when I take control.” He could tell by my wetness that I did, in fact, find it sexually gratifying. “Want some special kisses?”
I shook my head. “I want you now. Put it in.”
“You want this?” He slid the tip of his penis across my slit.
I moaned in the affirmative, eager to feel him inside me.
“Nyet.” He slapped me on the ass. “I give the orders.” He picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me to the bathroom. Once he stripped me naked, he turned on the water and guided me inside the shower. As the steam started to rise, I lathered up my hands with spa-scented soap and spread the rich and bubbly suds across my husband’s chest, down his six-pack, and then traveled south and stroked his erection with my slippery hands. With each gentle tug, I touched the tip of his penis against my abs and rubbed my nipples across his chest. As I encouraged his arousal, Vladimir squeezed my ass and groaned with pleasure. It didn’t take much stimulation to get him to achieve rock-hard status, and as his wife, I had intimate knowledge of my husband’s erogenous playbook.
Vladimir turned me around, spread my legs, and pressed his body against my back. With one hard thrust, he slid inside me. The sensation of his huge penis filling me with such force caused a pleasurable gasp to escape my lips. In a standing position with my legs spread far apart, he reached a spot deep inside me that felt different than when we did it lying down.
“Too hard? Want me to take it easy on you?”
“Never.”
Once he confirmed I was ready, Vladimir brought my legs closer together, wrapped his arms around my waist, and slowly thrust in and out of my pizda. I lowered my chin and sucked in my lips to mask the grunts and gasps escaping my lips. Vladimir swept my hair to the side and sucked on my neck so passionately, I was certain he would leave love marks on my skin. He started thrusting harder and faster, and I was no longer able to contain my erotic sex moans. My mounting pleasure caused me to ball my hands into fists as I headed toward orgasm. Vladimir’s excitement was on the rise too, and he was panting and grunting so loudly, our collective moans bounced off the shower walls.
Warm ripples of pleasure pulsed across my sex as he rode me hard and massaged my clit to escalate my arousal. I was on my way, and I knew Vladimir was almost there too. I could always tell when he was about to come when he started growling and cursing as his pleasure intensified.
“What are you doing to me, Carter? Fuck. You make me so goddam hard…”
I felt warm ripples of erotic pleasure and panted his name over and over. Vladimir massaged me faster and thrust harder and deeper inside me to bring us both to orgasm. “Come with me, Carter. Give it to me, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me tight as we climaxed together. I gasped, and he grunted dramatically as his warm release spread across my core, and the erotic sounds of our lovemaking quieted as our pleasure subsided.
I breathed in the heavenly spa-scented steam and closed my eyes while my husband kissed my neck and slid a smooth bar of soap between my legs, massaging my delicate skin as he washed me. My mind drifted and I remembered our wedding day in Ekaterinburg a year ago. If I had known then what I would have to go through to get to this moment, I would do all over again in a heartbeat.
Vladimir kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “You are my world, angel. Without you, I have no reason to breathe.”
I rested my head on his chest and responded in Russian, “Navsegda.”
I love you—forever.