CHAPTER 90
ALESSANDRA VITELLO VOLKOV.
“You know I couldn’t do it without any help and since Maria and Luna just disappeared-.”
“Maria and Luna aren’t permitted to step anywhere near you without them losing their heads.”
He says it so casually I almost feel pity for the two ladies but that pity eviscerates when I remember they have been lying to my husband and working for Lucia Volkov all this time.
I’m glad they are fired.
“Ass up for me, baby.”
My eyes slither their way to his chest because this man knows how much of a piece of art he is and how his chest calls me to like how the sea calls to Moana.
“Were you with Poppy?”
“No.”
“Then where were you?”
“Taking care of things.”
I don’t like it when he says ‘things’. What things? Things that could take him away from me?
Dangerous stuff?
“Can we have that talk right now? Christian, your life has been turned over in a night and I know that kind of thing isn’t easy on your brain, on your health and I… do you… do you remember everything?”
His chest heaves but otherwise that cool expression is still marring his face.
“No.”
Ouch.
“W-what do you remember then?”
“You. I remember you, sunshine. I know you matter. That’s all I fucking remember.”
I smile.
Just a small smile that evokes tears of happiness from my eyes.
“That’s… that’s okay too. It’s a start.”
It’s the beginning of a new dawn and the fulfillment of that hope I doubted when I saw him.
He remembers me.
He’s going to get better and I’m going to get him home.
“Yeah? Is it okay if I get what’s mine right now too?”
My ass clenches around the toy inside me.
It’s all I’ve done.
Squirmed and roamed the house all day waiting for him to get home. To end this debaucherously aggravating need.
“Take it out then we can negotiate on what happens next after this.”
“I’m ready when you are, little one.”
I roll my eyes, turning around.
My hands cover the glass wall of the shower room we are standing in as I jut out my ass to him.
I hear a grunt from behind me, before I feel the warmth of his erection covering my arse.
Spreading my arse cheeks apart, his hands dust over the toy, the mere contact he makes with it robbing me of breath.
“T-take it out”, I breathe.
Just take it out once and for all.
“You sure? Baby, you are already drenching at the thought of me filling this ass.”
“Christian!”
I huff. He mumbles something that has me slapping the glass all the more.
His fingers dig around the plug shoved up my ass and in one soft tug he pulls it out as the saline water inside me pours out and drips down my thighs.
My stomach deflates and the sensation that had dug around my ass from being filled fades and fills me with
disappointment.
I’m about to move my legs, take my hands off the transparent glass shower wall and stand straight intending to call this a night when Christian’s muscular thighs touch the back of mine and I hiss through my teeth at how instant my nerves stir haphazardly when we touch.
His leg pushes my legs further apart.
Any words about to spill out of me are hushed by his chest covering my back, his hand coming to my front and sneaking between my legs and his voice accosting my ear.
“I lied, sunshine. I’m not in the mood to negotiate over what we’ve established is mine already.”
He bites my shoulder before he pushes one finger inside my ass, stretching me and making me feel the burn in an instant.
The burn eventually mounts to invigorating pleasure when he adds another finger stretching me wide, preparing me for what’s about to fill me to the brim and I can’t complain.
I can’t complain at the bloodthirsty way his dick plunges into my ass all at once, nearly killing me and reviving me at the same time.
I can’t complain when he goes in hard, I can almost feel him pressing my pussy and the rush of emotions about to drown me.
The sounds of him slapping my ass, groaning and moaning echo around us like a cacophony of twisted musical notes.
He ravages my ass with long, harsh strokes that my face bumps with the glass at every movement. At every in and out. In and out.
Oh Sweet Jesus.
His speed picks up and I clench around him tight with pleasure and an exasperating orgasm about to hit me down like a tsunami.
My heart nearly spills at my feet at how hard it’s pounding, my pussy nearly sings in soprano at how good it is and my ass?
I’m rewarded for being a good girl, when he empties his load inside me.
He pulls out just for a second and his come drips out of me trickling down my thighs.
As if he’s been calculating this all day, I feel his fingers on my inner thighs, gathering his come before he pushes it back into my ass.
The snarl he lets out tells me he’s enjoying this sticky hot mess more than I am because again, he pushes back inside and we both get off from the beastly insatiable need coursing in our systems.
“Christian?”
“Yeah, sunshine?”
He barely looks at me as I stare at his reflection.
“This is not what normal people do on a normal Tuesday evening.”
He ignores the statement and my heart leaps at the half-naked man who’s standing behind me working his hands in my hair like it’s his first time in kindergarten learning how to finger paint.
“Normal is overrated, little stalker. You know that and perhaps I would have settled for another round but my baby says she’s sore and we’ve gotta respect that.”
“We? You and who?”
He smirks, I catch the smirk from the mirror as he holds my hair in a ponytail.
“Me and the dick that gets hard every time you look at us the way you are doing right now.”
I raise my hands in mid-air slightly huffing, “There’s nowhere to look! Your chest is on display, your veiny hands are distracting me, I can’t take a shower because you don’t want me to—and you are currently dyeing my hair. Everything right now is as weird as it gets.”
He ties a rubber hand around my hair before he takes another slab of that dye smearing it over my hair with the dexterity of a tailor cutting through precious fabric.
“Were we not weird in the past?”
I laugh.
We were. You were.
“Most times, we were.”
“And other times?”
“You were driving me insane”, and just because I can see how important it is for him to dye my hair, I clear my throat saying, “I dyed my hair brown so that I wouldn’t be recognized by-.”
Your bitch of a mother.
“I know.”
And he’s calm about it.
“You know your name. At least you half-believe what I’m telling you is the truth. Why haven’t you searched about yourself? About me? About your accident?”
“I don’t need to because you are here.”
“Christian it’s not that…”
“Teach me.”
“What?”
He pauses and our eyes meet in the vanity mirror above the sink.
“Teach me to remember. A few sentences I said, a few things I liked, all that shit. But most of all? Teach me to remember how I fell for you, how I controlled it, how I loved you without feeling the urge to cage you in my house and wanting to kill fake gardeners. Teach me to remember our first kiss and what it meant to you. Me fucking you right now is not based on the feelings I had for you. I don’t feel love for you, sunshine. And I know that’s what we had but what’s digging in my chest? I need you; I physically cannot think for a second without wanting an in to you, I’m obsessed with you like I’ve known you for eternity and that might explain the pictures I have of you naked in my phone. I might have not fucked you slowly and gently like we used to but I don’t want to ruin the first kiss you get from me after so many years, so teach me. I’m a fucking terrible student but I’ll learn.”
My heart rattles. Too overwhelmed and stunned.
“You never said you loved me. In the past I mean. You expressed it a bit vaguely, something between the lines of ‘I fuck you like it’s my last time to do so’ and ‘I kiss you like a prepubescent learning how good, lips feel like’. That’s the first lesson, Christian.”
“And the second?”
“You fuck me like you did two years ago. You fuck me just like how I like it. Fast and rough. And wait, when did you take pictures of me?”
XXX
Fucking is fun.
Especially when the tattooed Goliath of a man makes you come hard you end up drenching the sheets twice.
We did it in the bedroom, in the shower after he washed me from head to toe, at the foot of the stairs when I woke up early and he caught me.
In the kitchen when I… point is I can’t stay in his mansion fucking him forever.
And he agreed to that too, albeit grumpily.
So today, I chose his favorite thing to do hoping it will jog a few memories of his.
“Twirl for me”, he barks.
I giggle.
Christian Volkov, my husband, loved shopping.
Being dragged from store to store, no.
But telling me to wear different clothes so he could compliment my ass and boobs? Now that was his favorite thing to do.
Even when I was pregnant… he wanted me to try everything that showed my bump. Everything that reminded him he was going to be a dad.
And you are a dad, baby. To two boys who resemble you, no matter what Thena says.
I pull the neckline of the dress up hoping that my big boobs won’t spill out of the dress.
Not that there’s anyone here to witness it because AGAIN he rented a whole store for us.
My eyes fling to him.
He’s seated on a couch in front of me. Dominant and in a suit that’s rippled by his muscles.
“Ask nicely and I’ll think about it”, I challenge.
He runs a hand over his jaw, his eyes on my chest for a deadbeat before he sighs.
“Turn around and show me that heart-shaped ass. Please.”
In heels, I turn around and just to tease him, I bend down like a stripper on a pole before standing upright again.
“Damn.”
“You like the view?” I tease.
“You know I do.”
“Want me to try another dress?”
“You can try all the dresses in here if they’ll bring your ass out like that.”
One last look and I pick the mini dark dress hang by my right.
I walk down the runway to the dressing room giving my hips a little sway to rile him up because I can.
Once I’m in the dressing room, my hands reach out for the zipper at the back of my dress but the door behind me creaks.
I smile, turning around.
“I knew you couldn’t help yourself fro-.”
It’s not Christian.
Christian didn’t look at me like he was piecing the missing pieces to his Jigsaw puzzle.
Because that’s how the woman with the sunken eyes looks at me.
“And I knew my Aleksander wouldn’t hurt my father unless some bitch was corrupting him.”
Poppy fucking Woodcock. In the flesh.
“Aleksander?” I grimace,” Your Aleksander? Is that what you say to console yourself that my man loves you?”
Poppy doesn’t back down from her bullshit, “I don’t have to console myself; I’m wearing his fucking ring.”
“A ring you bought yourself and fabricated a whole fake story about your engagement? I have his name and his children and we sure as hell know he is not your fucking Aleksander.”
“Is that so? And you think he is yours? If he was yours, you wouldn’t sneak your way into his life as a maid. If you thought he was yours, you would have told him about his children. They might call you the Cosa Nostra leader but I see a weakling. You think I don’t know? It’s funny how money can get you everything including a few maids’ testaments on what’s going on in Aleksander’s house. From what I gather, you are scared of Lucia, aren’t you? You know she’ll crush you, you know that man will choose his mother over you come any day. If she finds out you are back in her son’s life, she will…”
“And you are here to threaten me before you tell her? That’s unoriginal babe.”
“Get out of the way, Alessandra. Go back to your gangster life and leave things as they are.”
“Leave my husband to you, is that what you are saying?”
“I’m asking nicely. Because if I wasn’t nice, I would be threatening to end your little guarded family back in Sicily. What were their names again? Ian? Lan? Aah, Liam, Ethan, Millicent. Adorable chubby kids who are lucky enough to have a mother. Some kids don’t have mothers. Hey, some kids don’t even make it to…”
I swing my elbow back and I punch Poppy Woodcock’s botox’ed face.
She staggers back to the door, her nose bleeding before she slides to the floor blacking out.
She is not going to ruin this for me. She is not going to threaten my kids.
I take my purse and pull out the phone that Christian bought for me a few days ago.
“I knocked out, Poppy Woodcock. We might need to get rid of her sooner than I expected.”
Yan doesn’t speak and when he speaks, my day gets worse.
“Catelina grew suspicious over you not being in Italy for weeks so she sent her husband.”
Shit.
“Which one of her husbands?”
“Maximo and you know he is an Italian and a Russian enforcer for a reason. Maximo knows something’s up; Athena also called a minute ago. Alessandra, Maximo is coming to New York to figure out what’s going on with you.”
No.