Zariah
“Sir, stay put,” Officer Jackson holds up his hand while barking to Vassili. “Just Ms. Washington.”
Damn, Jackson knows who I am. I grumble as it sinks in that my father is somehow the cause. He dropped a few little bombs about only mobsters driving Mercedes G class, amongst other stereotypical-ass questions and comments, while we toured a few apartments on Monday.
“I'll be back in a second, baby.” I glance at Vassili and he doesn’t seem amused by the situation.
I unbuckle the seatbelt and get out. There's another cop standing next to the cruiser, as Jackson and I walk over. This one’s hand is cradled against his gun, nestled in its holster, as he glares at the vehicle. Hatred targeted on Vassili.
“I'm going to pretend to breathalyze you, Ms. Washington.” Jackson’s tone has lost its abrasive ring. He offers a soothing hand along the middle of my back.
“No, you won't!” I do a two-step so fast from his touch that the Cha Cha Slide rings in my ear.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” His brows crease in concern, glancing over me.
I glare from him to the cop who hasn't blinked in order to keep Vassili in his line of vision.
“Officer Jackson, I've only had one drink,” I lie. “So either give me a reason why—.”
“Ma’am is Mr. Resnov holding you against your will?” he cuts me off.
“No. Hell no!”
“Are you sure, ma’am, you are safe now?” Jackson eyes warm with sincerity. The other cop glances over, too, keen gaze not as hard.
“Did you just illegally profile us? I'm still waiting for you to lie between the cracks of your teeth,” I accentuate the words. “Why were we stopped? Your name and badge number are ingrained in memory and believe that I'm fully aware of how to execute a complaint.”
“Your father wouldn't like this,” the other cop snaps.
“Ms. Washington,” Jackson sighs, “We are merely concerned for your safety.”
“Thanks for the de facto parent, bullshit.” I shrug away from Officer Jackson’s attempt to touch my shoulder, again. There'll be no building a rapport with me. I saunter toward my man; a dull ache in my jaw warning me to stop gritting my teeth.
Vassili holds my ringing cell phone in his hand. “It's your father.”
“Maxwell was behind this.”
His eyebrow rises. If he weren't so damn sexy in his awareness, he would be in trouble, too.
“Damn, Vassili, you look like you don't give a damn. I take it you're used to the bullshit?”
The left side of his mouth tips up.
“What?”
“You're cussing.” His defined shoulders shrug slowly. “It's cute.”
“Vassili, are you used to unlawful stops.”
“Unlawful? Baby girl, I'm a motherfucking immigrant,” he mumbles.
“Tell me about when they stop you,” I ask, glancing through the rearview window. “These pricks are probably going to follow us home.”
“They won't. You've never been pulled over before, have you, Zariah? They have to make sure you ease back into traffic.”
“Vassili, I just asked you a question,” I grit out, placing a foot onto the brake and slapping the shift into drive.
“Like what, reasons and dates of the occasions?” He leans back in disinterest.
“Precisely. Dates. Times. Who do you recall stopping you and –”
“Zariah, I have lawyers, when necessary, and I won't be adding you to the payroll, sweetheart. You'll probably end up being a tax attorney.”
I scoff. “You're an asshole.”
“I'm being an asshole?” He cocks his head somewhat. “Tell me that you'll be a prosecutor instead? That was your dream. Those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes were full of determination on our first night. I recall that shit like yesterday. Beautiful. Naive. Determined. So, you still interested in a career as a blood-sniffing prosecutor?”
Because he's right I silently signal, glare through the side mirror at the police cruiser, before gliding toward the west onramp.
Vassili clears his throat.
“Billingsley Legal is family law,” I admit. The dream of becoming a top litigator that I had as an adolescent, has slowly faded. A great love for justice in the familial cohort has become so important to me over the years. I owe this love to Vassili and how he took justice into his own hands, for Ronisha. There won't always be good attorneys for every socioeconomic demographic, so I promised to display availability to those in need. Vassili grips my thigh, not full of lust or gloating about being correct, yet as if he understands.
I contemplate on what he told me about Sasha, and how her family has more than enough capital at their disposal. Born into wealth, no matter how ill gotten, and moreover men who don't condone disrespect, there was no way Sasha Resnov should have had to endure such a cruel life. She truly was like Ronisha, on the outside looking in.
My phone continues to ring as we're almost in Venice.
“Will you answer it?”
“Why?”
“He’s your father, he's concerned.”
I chortle. “Maxwell is selfish, just like Malich. Not to the same extent, but he just tried to play us for puppets back there.”
“Da, in his eyes I'm a piece of shit. He does it out of love.”
“Don't be so sure, Vassili. He had this nasty habit of beating the snot out of my mom, was that love? Before I left for college—”
“Has he hit you?” Vassili booms.
My shoulders jar. So far, Vassili has been blasé about the entire event tonight and then he’s taking up for my father.
Again he asks, his usually low voice much louder. “Did that motherfucker ever hit you?”
“Oh, you refused to answer my questions when we drove off from the cops. Why are you finally so concerned? More important, do not yell at me, Vassili. Oh, actually, what can you do, you don't even represent your family, or do you?” I shoot back, still livid over Officer Jackson and his damn audacity. But something in me isn't ready for a broken heart. Should we end things now? How can I believe he doesn't ride for his family?
“Does it look like I need my family name to get shit done?” His fists clenched and he flexes his forearms and biceps straight before him. “I handled that mudak for your friend. What do you think I'd do for you?”
The fine hair on my arms prickle. The newscaster’s words, in the days following Sergio’s death, I learned more and more about how tortured and mangled his body was. So when Vassili asks how much further he'd go for my sake, it’s enough to weaken my knees with fear. Man, it wasn't easy to set that aside during our many texts and calls.
But Vassili Resnov is my kryptonite. Even feeling his anger radiate, I love and want him. He will never hurt me, the truth is there mingled within the dark, death glare in his eyes.
I reach over, skimming my hand across the length of his arm. All steel, all powerful. And hot, hot with fury.
I climb deftly across the center console, straddling him. Though my core is recuperating from the mega size of his cock, I still crave him. Crave decreasing the anger that burns his golden skin. My mouth opens, yet Vassili places his finger over my lips. No kisses. No reassuring words.
“Has your father placed a hand on you?” Vassili’s accent has lowered once more. Yet, it has amplified in coldness, chilling me to my core
He removed his finger, the glower in that dark, dark gaze warms me to answer.
“No,” I murmur.
“Tell me the truth, as observant as you are. You know that I can go from chill to a mill in a second, baby. My father had a way with the ladies, my mother ran from us all, to try to save herself. After I told you about Sasha, how could you believe I’d give a fuck for that man?”
Tears sting my eyes. Damn, his story about his sister broke my heart. Add in his mother? I can’t tell if there's just resentment or also sadness, in his tone from his mother’s abandonment, because his tone doesn't fluctuate. The words were measured, slow, stiff.
I shake my head. “No, Maxwell hasn't done anything, not even so much as spanking me as a child. Not even a pop on the hand.”
“But you've got your stereotypes. All cops hit their wives. All fighters beat their women.” He cocks an eyebrow. “I chose not to take your virginity, our first night, because you had that mentality. We were supposed to change that.”
“But I moved so soon.” I nod slowly. “Baby, you’ve noticed a change in me. Look, I'm pissed off because of those dumbasses back there. I know this has been an underlying issue for us, though. You mentioned it when telling me you knew I no longer strive to be a litigator,” I murmur, coveting his touch, yet too afraid to reach out. “Vassili, I don't have the same convictions.”
“Convictions your father and motherfuckers like Ronisha’s boyfriend, and my father have exposed you too. All I can be is me, Zariah, and I promise you, on my life, that these hands will never hurt you. This being said, anybody else lays a hand on you, they’re dead.”
I pull in a deep breath and squeeze my thighs against his waist. “Vassili, calm down. Where is this coming from? I had my beliefs about you when we met. You actually used your name to your advantage, dang. Now, we just declared our love earlier tonight. Don’t ruin the moment. I love you.” This time, he doesn't stop my mouth from locking onto his.
“I love you, too.”
“Good.” I pout, voice salacious and delicious, I ask, “Do you still want to drink vodka off of me. You still game?”
###We hardly make it to the living room. My stilettos are kicked off, lips fused to each other's. Vassili has wrapped me in his large arms, it's a feat for him to rip my blouse to shreds, let alone unzip his pants.
Before I can fall to my knees, desiring his taste, he swoops me up; my legs clamp around his waist. He leans in, biting the flesh of my breasts, as they spill forth from my lace bra. With only my thighs hugging him as support, I reach around and unsnap the back of my bra. In a second, it's disappeared from sight.
Next thing I know, we’re in his bedroom. I have my panties off in a flash, and start to climb into bed.
“Don’t.” His voice is harsh.
I step away from the bed as if it’s set on fire.
“You have these thighs and hips,” Vassili grips my curve, “thick as hell. Let’s see how strong they are.”
I lick my lips in anticipation of anything he has in mind. He pulls off his jeans and his cock rises to attention. It feels like I’ve waited an excruciatingly long time as Vassili moves the heavy chair with the black-and-silver Chevron signs to the center of the room.
He points the new bottle of vodka at it. “Sit at the edge.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“You are my queen, Zariah, may I kneel for you?”
My heart rate rises as my ass claims the edge of the seat. Spine erect, I feel powerful as the fighter drops to his knees before me. The entire sight leaves me breathless. My legs spread wide, and I wonder what ever did he mean by having to use the strength of them. Knowing Vassili, he has it all planned out. The chilled bottle moves along my belly, gliding toward my breasts, leaving my nipples taut. His body heat between my thighs, I wait in heady anticipation for him to taste my brown skin.
“Please, Vassili, don’t tease me,” I beg. A sudden surge of cool, wet vodka pours down my left breast. The chill is so cold it pricks at my hard pearl, before the precision of his amazing warm tongue soothes the mild ache. Another pour of vodka on my right breast is followed by his tongue, dancing around and caressing my stiff nipple. While Vassili repeats the process, my head lingers against the pillowed backing of the chair, wriggling right to left, eyes closed as I moan.
My brain begins to register another sensation. Vassili’s fingers inside me, he lowers himself more, muscular legs stretched behind him as he sucks at my clit. The vodka flows along the coils of my pubic hair, spilling along my slit. He groans in delight while eating the fuck out of my pussy. He takes me to the stairs of heaven, only to return his attention to my tiny bulb, teeth grazing over it. I almost cum a thousand times, as his fingers work inside of me, but then the sensation floods back to my clit. I arch my back, ass slipping further from the edge of the chair. I’m damn near riding Vassili’s face, as his tongue hungrily probes into my pussy. Stay there, I want to tell him. Don’t stop eating my pussy, baby. But my eyes are shut tight, and I cry out. Lawd have mercy.
Heat spreads over my soft skin while I drip down Vassili’s finger as he caresses my clit with his tongue over and over again. Back and forth he alternates from lapping me up eating me, to grazing his tongue and teeth across my crown.
“Damn, Vassili, oh…” I gasp. “Right there. Right there! Don’t stop, please! Don’t stopppp!”
Instead of returning his attention to my clit, Vassili stiff tongues just the right spot to unlock an endless flow. Growling like a beast, he drinks his fill, along with my own ebb and flows. My legs tremble, the bubble of my ass almost falling out of the seat, as he drinks the cum straight from my pussy. My climax leaving me so sensitive that I have my hands planted by my hips, elbows locked in place to help keep me up.
“Fuck, Zariah, we haven’t even worked out those thighs, yet,” his voice is but a whisper, teasing the entrance of my pleasure.
“You ready to stand?”
“Hmmm,” I am so disoriented that my eyes close. I can feel my ass has halfway fallen to the floor by now. Probably looking like a hot mess, but do I give a damn? No, my body is in a state of euphoria.
He repeats himself, “Stand, Zariah.”
Vassili offers a hand. I take it and arise in such a daze that my toes clinch under.
“Look. So much ass,” his hand slams down on my cheek, squeezing it so tightly it sobers me and helps steady my stance.
With a hand to my chin, Vassili brings my gaze to his dark, sinful eyes. “You still with me?”
My tongue darts out along my bottom lip, and I nod.
“Khorosho. Khorosho.” His thumb caresses over the subtle wetness left in my mouth. “Touch your toes.”
“I don't think I can,” I murmur, brain turned to mush. My tongue is tied, heavy. I feel like I’ve been drugged. Something highly addictive courses through my veins.I’m tipsy off the stacks of muscles on his heavily tattooed body.
He’s behind me now, reaching around me with a hug. Caressing my breasts. I expect a bit of sympathy, due to his mouth fucking me so well. But with my breast filling out his large palm, Vassili offers a little squeeze. “You can, Zar. Touch your toes.”
I sway gently back against him. His hands supporting along my belly button as I lean forward.
“Spread your legs.”
Widening my stance helps my equilibrium return. My ass arches and my pussy rises, as I reach all the way over to interlock my hands around my ankles. From my position, between the triangle of my sturdy legs, I have an eyeful of his beautiful, large balls and the underside of his manhood.
He lets out a harsh gasp from behind me.
“What, Vassili, what?”
“Most amazing sight ever,” he falls to his knees behind me. “Your lips are so tender.”
“My lips?” The blood is rushing to my brain by now. Then I groan, “Ohhh…” Then more vodka is poured against my backside. Slithering down the tiny opening of my ass. He pours more until the liquid begins to drench from my ass to my pussy, dripping from my clit all the way down my legs.
The first lick is sensual, sliding from my clit and up along my labia. He probes the folds of my soft wetness with a tongue that isn’t as stiff as before. It slips into the heat of my core, and now I’m dousing his tongue with more of my musky sweetness than the vodka had offered.
I remove my grip from around my ankles, finding better leverage by bracing my hands against the floor. I tilt my ass downward. The bristles of his jaw are sharp, painful along the inside of my thighs, but I rotate my hips and continue to scoot my ass lower, beckoning him. Damn, Vassili leans back against his calves, working my pussy out with his tongue.
He’s moaning, and licking me harder, still. Arousal at its highest peak, I warn, “Vassili, I won’t—”
In a second, his arm is around my waist, and he saddles me down onto his cock so hard I cry out in pain, as my pussy takes more of him than it ever has before. My thighs are over his muscular ones, my calves spread along his. With my knees on the floor, I lean forward again, this time it’s much easier since we’re both kneeling. With me in reverse cowgirl position, he reaches forward, his nose, mouth, and jaw saturated with my juices. I turn to tongue him, loving the taste of myself. There are no more nervous jitters as he pumps in and out of me.
He strokes my ass and hips. Cock buried deep inside of my body, Vassili acknowledges, “You are strong, Zariah. Those thighs and hips, so strong.”
A beam brightens my face at that. “I love you, Vassili,” I murmur.
He murmurs his love for me, while reaching around to toy with my clit. Several times he tapers off his hard thrust, so I can catch my breath. The incredible sensation of his dick pumping in and out, has my breasts jiggling with each thrust. Another tailspin of sensation shatters through my body, as we explode together.