Zariah
The water pours down on us in torrents. My nipples slap against the cool glass wall with each thrust. I’m on my tippy toes, as Vassili hits it from the back. The angle of his cock slaughters my walls, making my pussy release mini orgasms with each driving force. I can’t even count how many times he’s taken me to heaven while bettering me with his dick.
Mmmm, I love that pain.
“I’m beating the fuck out my pussy, Zar.”
“This pussy is yours, Daddy.” I gasp, my lips against the glass. It’s pure greed, that has me leveraging myself to slam back against him. “Fuck me.”
“Shit,” he grunts. “I’m gonna break this pussy.”
I scamper to clasp the walls, wanting to pull my hair out. He’s screwing so deep in my tummy, that my future walk will forever be changed. “Harder,” I beg. Each thrust clears my mind of all the red flags. He’s dangerous. Everything about him is dangerous except his promises.
His swat along my hip brings stars to my eyes, and death to any thoughts of him being like his father. A sharp breath escapes my mouth as he flogs the same spot. The hurt catches fire from the center point of my pussy and expands it outward. The instant it reaches my hair follicles and toes, my mind goes dumb. And I beg for more hurt.
“Shit, Vassili, fuck.” I once again feel like a drunken woman, steadying herself on weak legs and tiptoes.
The way he screws me insides sends me to another galaxy. It’s enough to clear him of a thousand misgivings. I reach between my body and the glass wall to fuck with my clit. My fingers work the shit out of it. I’m still angry. The pain becomes my haven.
With strong arms that have beaten many of his opponents, Vassili turns me around. He’s screwed the tension right out of me. My legs go around his hips, as he buries his dick deep inside me. Our hearts implode against each other’s chests, creating their own drumming symphony.
“I don’t give a fuck how angry you are, Zariah,” he whispers in my ear, cock sitting deep in my juices. “You belong to me.”
I reach my arms around him, pulling the Russian stone God to me, and kiss him hard. “I belong to you,” I solidify his claim while our tongues dart together.
He drives cock inside of me one last time. His warm seed is so strong that it erupts deep inside my pussy. I cling to him, neither one of us is ready to let go.
***
My cell phone alarm awakens me. The clock we use is on Vassili’s side of the bed because he’s always up at the crack of dawn for a run, and I feel like I’ve exerted too much energy rolling over and turning it off when he’s gone.
“Zariah, baby, turn it off,” Vassili kisses my lips.
I’m still submerged in a contented shade of black. My eyes are closed. They’re not ready to open yet.
“Hmmm,” I grin, blindly, feeling my husband looking at me.
“It’s Saturday, sweetheart. What’s with the reminder?”
The reminder? Oh, yeah, dread seeps into my heart. I open my eyes, reach over and turn off my cell phone. “We have to meet with Sammy before he leaves for a seminar this afternoon.”
“We? I thought he was cooking us dinner tomorrow evening? Sunday dinners are his thing.”
“He is, but I can’t wait until then, Vassili. We need to go over your case.”
There’s a hint of hesitation in Vassili’s demeanor. Then he scoops me up, and plants me on his waist. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry?”
While straddling him, I offer a faint smile. “You did. But I can’t stop, Vassili. I love you.”
***
There’s a vein pulsating in the side of Vassili’s neck. Doesn’t he know that this is the wrong time to bump heads?
We’re at Samuel’s Venice Beach home. The beach surrounds us in a 90-degree angle. The furniture is perfect for a man who doesn’t have tiny terrors running around, ready to stamp a train of dirty fingerprints everywhere.
I can’t believe, almost two years ago my mentor was eyeing Vassili during his jog, and telling me to keep away from the riff raff. Now, he sits on the low-seated chair between the two love seats that Vassili and I have claimed.
My leg is crossed, my foot rattling with irritation. Samuel attempts to rationalize with him. “The more you tell us now, the more we’re able to defend you.”
Duh! Sammy’s voice is too friendly. He’s offering my husband a choice, one that he doesn’t have. I will help regardless of what nonsense is going through Vassili’s mind.
“Vassili, you have two lawyers here ready to build a titanium case for you.” I sit forward in my seat. “I love you, let me help you.”
“Girl, I won’t have you as my attorney.” His chuckle is contrite. “I’ve already said it. End of discussion.”
“Why? Because I’m not seasoned? Sammy is, talk to him.” I gesture.
“No. Zariah, I believe in you,” he sighs. Rubbing the chain link tattoo on his forearm, he turns to my mentor. “Sam, this meeting … I don’t need it. I’m going to handle the situation myself. Come Tuesday morning, I’ll be dressed in a suit, and will speak to the judge myself. Zariah and I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow. She’s wasting your time.”
“Are you sure?” Samuel asks.
“He’s not,” I butt in.
“Judge McKinley is a hard ass,” Samuel tries. “My connections will not be of any use without your side of the story—”
Again, I speak up. “Yes, his side of the story. I’m sure you told my mom why she had to bail you out of jail, Vassili.”
His lips bunch into a frown.
“Well, if he won’t give it, then my mom will.” I snatch up my leather purse.
My husband is cussing in Russian underneath his breath. Then he addresses me, palms out in a truce. “Zariah, c’mon, beautiful, stop the madness. Do you want to get your mother into this mess?”
“Zamora?” Samuel arches an eyebrow. “What does Mora have to do with it?”
“Hello, Mom,” I place her on speaker. “I need you to tell me what happened the night Vassili and Yuri were arrested.”
Her voice rings loud and clear and hesitant. “Tsk, honey, they didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Mom, please explain it to me.” I can feel the tears slithering down my cheeks. Vassili’s eyes warm with concern before he leans his head back and takes a breath. His dark as sin eyes glower, causing me to feel hot coils against my skin. What the hell did I do? I’m trying to save him!
“Ms. Haskins,” he cuts in. “You don’t know anything.”
Samuel glances around in consideration. My husband’s comment was leading! Totally leading. Heck, he really sounds like a Russian mobster, prepared to cap a potential witness.
“Honey, are you crying?” My mom asks.
“Yes, mom. My husband is in more trouble than he realizes. Vassili, you aren’t as invincible as you think. Think about Natasha. This is a crucial time in her life to be gone.” An image of him behind bars pops up on an imaginary projector before me, whisking away the deep blue sea. His love has me drowning. “Someone tell me something!”
“Okay,” My mom speaks up.
“It’s nothing,” Vassili says just as she admits to knowing Matthew Overstreet.
The muscles in my abdomen knead, twisting rapidly, and a sinking feeling overwhelms me.
“Is he the man you’ve been dating?”
“Yes, honey. We were dating for a year.”
“That’s a rather long time without introductions, Mom. You know how I am, queen of interrogations. 21 questions an all.” I scoff, more anxious than I let on.
My husband shakes his head at me.
But I still ask the question I’m highly suspicious I already know the answer to. “Does he… does he hurt you, mom?”
There’s a heavy silence. Samuel breaks it, his distraught matching my own. “Mora, love, does he—”
“Sammy? What are you doing there?” The embarrassment in my mother’s voice rings into my ears….
***
The community park near our home is an upgrade from when I grew up, and I’m not just mentioning the switch from seesaws to a sandbox, which teaches outdoor science. I also grew up in a well-to-do area of Los Angeles. But our park is child developmentally friendly. The sections are for early development, middle grade, and even the skateboard sections a few blocks down are fit for that crazy sports channel Vassili watches sometimes.
I’m halfheartedly pushing Natasha in a swing, with an extensive seatbelt contraption. These rich mothers can never be too safe. Who am I kidding, I’ve seen more au pairs than bio moms at the park. My mind is inundated with other things.
“I’m awful, aren’t I?” I ask Vassili as my mother’s story twines in my ear. She told the story about her relationship with Matthew Overstreet to save Vassili, and I know it broke her heart that Sammy listened to every word. If she could only see his face. “Vassili, answer me. Am I awful?”
“You are,” Vassili says, grabbing Natasha’s feet. She’s angled with her frizzy hair blowing in the wind. “Now, move. Our baby is a stunt double.”
“Dang, tell me how you really feel,” I grumble taking a few paces back.
“You’re in trouble, no discussion needed. You’ll pay later,” his voice is ominously sexy. And I’d like to see myself pay later, if I didn’t feel like a jackass. In the next instant, the frown is expunged from his face, a smile in its stead. As Vassili lifts Natasha’s feet higher, she’s damn near upside down. Then he says, “Swoosh.”
“Daddy!” she giggles before being flipped back. I have to move further as Natasha soars higher than I’ve ever attempted.
“Boy!” I shout a warning which lands on deaf ears. Natasha vaults back toward him, fat fists waving around like she’s preparing to go to war. She loves it. Natasha swings back and forth a few times before Vassili catches her legs and repeats, sending her higher into the universe.
“She needs a helmet,” I grumble.
“Nyet, our daughter loves it.”
***
Vassili plants me on the kitchen counter after we’ve double teamed—fed, bathed, and put Natasha to sleep. “I need a shot of Hennessey,” I tell him.
The sexy laugh that comes from deep in my husband’s abdominals makes my body wet. He places his thick waist between my thighs, and pulls off his shirt.
“Got damn, Vassil, I’m asking for a petty party. Which means you have the tools at your disposal to get me drunk. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“Okay,” he moves away. My hands barely have a chance to caress the eight pack of his. He pauses, then in a sarcastic voice inquires, “Oh, can I get your drink, your highness?”
“Humph, you’re still being an asshole, aren’t you? Earlier, my only thought was saving you from joining the Aryan nation in jail—”
“What the fuck?” His thick eyebrow rises.
“Hello, you’re white. There’s only one place for you in the pen. So that’s my excuse for setting up my mom. I feel like middle school, there was this one time when Ronisha, you remember her?”
“Of course, Zar.”
“Tsk, my mind is frazzled. There was this one time when Ronisha got me on the party line—a phone call with random kids. Needless to say, I was too ‘white girl’ for most of the people on the call. I blindsided my mom with Samuel’s presence. Now, I need copious amounts of liquor to help me forget. Which, might I add, can be how I repay you.” I bite my lip as my hand slides over the smooth ridges and then let my index finger glide over the KILLER KARO tattoo which is spread across his chest.
“Oh, you think you are allowed to state how your punishment will play out?”
“I’m offering you the grand opportunity to get me drunk as fuck, Vassili, be calculating and ambitious.”
He moves back into my area, brushes a kiss along my neck. “When I give you an order, you have to start listening.”
“Yeah, you told me not to have the meeting with Samuel. I’m wrong, can’t admitting my faults be punishment enough.” I feel myself tearing up. The hurt in my mother’s voice while explaining how Matthew Overstreet treated her, didn’t exceed the pain of knowing Samuel was aware that she was in another abusive relationship.
He kisses my lips. “I’m your husband, Zariah. You must trust that whatever action I chose to take is for the best interest for our family.”
“Wait,” I grab out for him as he pulls away again.
“No using me like a piece of ass.” He goes to the refrigerator and pulls out the vodka.
“Oh no, I want some brown, brown persuasion. That stuff will have me acting a fool.”
“Maybe I want you ready to be committed, Zariah. The crazier you are the easier it is for me to get to certain parts of your body, i.e. your true punishment.” He opens up the Resnov Water and gestures for me to tip my chin. Vassili pours some into my mouth, a small bit trickles down my chin and neck. He licks that up. My pussy starts to rain down in my pants just like the vodka that was just dripping down my neck.
“What sort…” I shake my head to help ease the burn. “Shit, no more. Now, what crazy stuff are you considering?”
“The kinda shit that requires me to get you good and drunk.” We chuckle as he pours more in my mouth, this time, I don’t swallow. He places his mouth over mines and drinks.
“So, where you headed?” I inquire, feeling my reaction time fade by the second. Damn, I only had about a shot and a half.
He grunts. “You want me in that tight, wet pussy, don’t you?”
My head bobs up and down slowly. “Yessss…”
“I wanna,” he begins, voice slow, deliberate, and powerful, “get in that ass.” Vassili takes the bottle to the head, and then he hands it over. “You ready for me to get in that ass, girl?”
“Nope.” I sip at the bottle. This shit feels like liquid fire, slamming all the way down, inside my chest. Vassili tips the bottom of it, and I end up guzzling down more than I anticipated.
“Take off your clothes.”
I press on my palms, intending to jump down, but the ground sways slowly. I chuckle.
“Nyet, don’t get down, Zar,” he tells me, while brushing my lips with a kiss. Vassili places my hands over my blouse. I slowly start undoing the buttons. “Damn, girl, you’ll be forever.” He grips the silk material and pulls, buttons go popping everywhere.
Did he just? Cognition slowly trickles in as I glance around at the buttons scattered across the marble flooring. “So it’s like that? This is my favorite shirt!”
Vassili unbuckles my pants, and gathers my panties with it, sliding them together down my hips. My ass is now on the cold marble slab. He’s still in his army fatigues.
“Take yours off, too,” I pout.
“In due time.” He grabs the bottle, offering me more. I turn my head and he asks, “What happened to you getting drunk?”
“Boy, I am good and drunk!” I slur.
He pours the vodka along my chest. “One day I’m going to cum all over your tits and make you lick them off.”
“You can now.”
“Nah, I’ve got other things up my sleeve.”
I chuckle, and then realize the extent to his response. “You want me to be a bad girl…” I grip the chocolate waves of his mohawk as Vassili licks the vodka from one of my tits. It takes ages for me to realize that my fingers won’t be gripping the marble countertop. As he applies pressure to one of my nipples, I moan. My hands press backward, as I lean back for him. I pour more vodka onto my body, the cool liquid rushes over my breast, into my belly button, drenches down to my pussy, mingling with my own wetness.
As I groan with delight, Vassili licks up every trail the vodka makes.
“Can you stand?” he asks.
Dang it, but I giggle, again. Vassili holds out a hand, I take it, and move at a snail’s pace until my left foot touches the ground and then my right.
“Turn around,” he orders. “Hands against the counter.”
Feeling my body mellow even more, I am quick to do his bidding. My hands go to the marble ledge. Before I can lean back, wet liquid shoots down my lower back and between my ass cheeks.
“Mmmm,” I purr. Vassili bends over and licks me down below. His tongue prods against my asshole. “Shit, that feels good,” I murmur. I rock my hips back as he eats my ass out. Then he slaps the inside of my thigh, making my stance wider. His tongue nudges my pussy as his fingers work their way into my ass. Again, my ass is begging for his penetration. I work my hips until more of his fingers slip into my hole.
“Oh, so you want me in this ass?” The drum of his voice is delectable.
“Yeah, Vassili,” I cry out. “Keep fucking my ass.”
“I’m not fucking you yet.” He removes his finger, and then his tongue slides up my pussy to my asshole before he gets up. Vassili stands right behind me. The sound of him taking his belt off is titillating to my ears.
“Fuck me, baby,” I tell him.
He pushes his pants off with the heel of his barefoot, kicks them away. His belt is still in his hand. Vassili swats my ass with it. Pain shoots through me, and I’m so ready for him to replace it with a pain that I have never felt before. His cock.
Vassili enters my pussy from behind. My mind starts to catch up, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to fuck my ass. Screw me with his big, white cock. “Girl, you are fucking wet for me,” He marvels. “You should see my cock.”
“Can I taste it?”
“Nah, I have other things for you to do.”
I whimper at his refusal. Vassili continues to screw me, my back arching perfectly as he grips my ponytail. “Keep wetting my cock with that thick, sweet pussy, girl. You got that pussy wetter than the ocean for me.”
I force my hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust. Until he pulls out. His cock slides up my labia and to my ass. I gyrate, gliding his hardness across my tiny hole. “Vassili…don’t stop.”
His cock nestles against my butt.
“Girl, you should see how beautiful your ass is,” he tells me, smacking a cheek, before he rubs the pain away. “Now, drink that vodka.”
I reach over, grab it, and guzzle it down. Then my hands grip the ledge as he slowly works that glorious cockhead into my ass. “Shhhhhit, Vassili,” I growl. It hurts so good, I love it.