46. Bronwyn

46

brONWYN

The next day, we had breakfast on the private terrace outside our villa, overlooking the sea. Then Radimir took me into the jungle to see the spider monkeys and they were freakin’ adorable, with huge, dark eyes and little furry heads. We took about a million photos, including one of Radimir with a monkey on his head.

In the afternoon, we rented a thirty-foot sailboat. I thought it looked enormous, but Radimir had done this before and assured me the two of us could handle it together. And after I’d figured out my mainsail from my jib, and he’d patiently agreed that port and starboard were just stupid and I could use left and right, we got the thing skimming through the water so fast I felt like we were going to take off. Eventually, it came time to turn back towards shore and head in. But I kept the boat stubbornly pointing out to sea. “Part of me wants to just keep going,” I mumbled.

Radimir must have heard the worry in my voice because he sat down beside me and slipped his arm around my back. He nodded, watching me intently. Go on.

“But we have to go back,” I said. I looked at the tattoos on his chest. “Don’t we?”

He followed my gaze and nodded. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave.”

“They don’t let anyone leave?” I asked. “Ever?”

He shook his head. Then he winced and gave me a half-hearted nod. “There was a man, once. He got out.”

“Your friend in New York. The hitman who fell in love with his target.”

“ Former friend. Yes. His boss let him out because...well, he did something huge for him.”

“But you are the boss,” I said gently. He said nothing. “But you still can’t leave, can you? You don’t want to.”

He sighed. “It’s not about not wanting to. It’s...this is in my blood, Bronwyn.”

My heart sank.

He took my hand. “It’s who I am,” he said. “It’s who I’ll always be.” He looked down at his chest and pointed to one of his scars, on the side of his pec. “Here. Look.”

I looked. It was small and circular, so I’d taken it for a bullet wound. But it wasn’t the same as the others. The edge was too perfectly circular and there were ridged lines in the center that almost seemed to form a symbol.

“After my father died…” He stopped suddenly and looked away, unable to continue. “Before we went to Vladivostok….” He broke off again. I kept quiet, giving him space, my chest aching. What happened to his father? What happened in Vladivostok? I wanted to help but I couldn’t, until he told me. And I wasn’t sure he ever would.

He took a deep breath and started again. “My father had this metal seal, passed down through the family, for sealing letters with wax. He never used it: no one writes letters anymore. But it was his, and it had our family’s symbol on it. And?—”

I put my hand over my mouth as I realized what the scar was. “Someone branded you with it?!”

He shook his head. “No. I did.” He met my eyes and held them. “And then I did it to Gennadiy. And Valentin. Before we went away. To remind us that we were Aristovs, and that we needed to stick together. And that one day, we’d build something together, something no one could ever take away from us.” He shook his head. “I can’t leave them, Bronwyn. And I can’t leave the Bratva. I’m sorry.”

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. I could feel things shifting inside me, realigning. I wasn’t mad at him, I understood. And I couldn’t ask him to change. But what he’d said confirmed everything I’d been afraid of: there’d always be this big, dark presence in his life, pulling him away from me.

“Having regrets?” he asked after a while.

“No,” I said immediately. I twisted and looked up at him. “Not for a minute.” And I meant it. Him walking into my bookstore was the best thing that ever happened to me. Him leaving the Bratva had always been a long shot, but I’d had to try. I’d just have to find another way to make this work.

We ate dinner in one of the hotel restaurants and then, when we got back to our villa, Radimir told me to put my swimsuit back on. At first, I thought he just wanted to fuck me wearing it. But then he gestured me out onto the terrace and up a flight of stone steps on the side. I slowly climbed them, mystified.

It was a rooftop terrace, with a wall at the back to give us privacy, a spectacular view out over the ocean...and our own private hot tub.

Radimir appeared behind me with an armful of towels. “I know how much you like baths. So...”

Delighted, I climbed down the steps and into the tub. Underwater lights made it glow, and the water was bathtub warm and gently bubbling. I sat down—the seats were padded!— and felt all my troubles melt away as I immersed myself right up to my chin.

Radimir climbed in after me, his red swim shorts billowing in the bubbles. He got comfortable, then adjusted the controls and I squeaked as bubbles erupted under the soles of my feet...then groaned as the jets started to massage my soles. I lay back against the padded headrest. “This may be the most comfortable I’ve ever been,” I murmured.

A wicked grin crept across Radimir’s face. “I think I know a way to make it better.”

He waded across to me, put his arm around my waist and lifted me. Then he sat and put me down in his lap, leaning us both back so that we were almost lying, with my head resting on his shoulder. Now I had the gloriously hot water, the bubbles...and his rugged, near-naked body underneath me.

He began stroking up and down the outside of my thighs and hips, easing the tension from them. I closed my eyes and sighed. With my legs bouncing gently in the stream of bubbles, I felt like I was floating in space. I could hear the surf crashing on the beach, Radimir’s slow breathing beneath me, and nothing else. Bliss.

Radimir’s hands moved to the fronts of my thighs, working out the knots there. Then, slowly, they moved inwards. I caught my breath as his fingertips skimmed up the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, just a few inches from my groin. I could feel his cock hardening beneath me. His fingers gradually circled inwards... upwards. I stiffened as they reached the edge of the narrow band of fabric that covered my groin. “Shall we go inside?” I asked.

“Why would we go inside?” His fingers moved to my pussy, rubbing in slow circles through the swimsuit.

My eyes flew open. The roof was private but not that private. There were other villas on either side of ours, and if they were up on their roofs, all they had to do was glance to the side. Not to mention the high-rise hotel behind us which overlooked everything. “People could see!” I whispered.

“Then they’ll be jealous of me,” he told me. And his fingers began to stroke up and down through the thin fabric. I bit my lip, still conflicted. Public sex was something I’d never been brave enough to try, even though the idea was kind of hot. But as he rubbed and circled, the pleasure started to override the fear. He knew exactly how much pressure to use, exactly what speed to go at...my hips began to helplessly circle. I glanced down at the water. The surface was foaming with bubbles... maybe they won’t be able to see what he’s doing.

He used the pad of his thumb to grind my clit, just rocking it back and forth through my suit while his fingers stroked. I started to breathe hard. God, I could feel my lips parting under his pressure, could feel how wet I was getting. Had he planned this? When we’d stood at the airport, choosing the swimsuit, had he looked at that narrow band of fabric that would cover my groin and imagined rubbing exactly there, and what it would do to me?

Now he brought his other hand into play, reaching up and massaging my breast through the suit. A fresh wave of pleasure rolled through my body, making me arch my back. It wasn’t like wearing clothes, or even wearing just a bra. The swimsuit was thin and with it being wet, too, the heat of his hand went straight through the material: it felt like I was naked. My nipple rolled across his palm and started to harden into a peak, and I ground my ass against him. It only made his cock harden more.

Radimir kissed me on the side of my neck, my weak spot, and I moaned. Then he slipped one of my shoulder straps down, and my breast popped out into the steam-filled night air.

I sucked in my breath. It felt scary but thrilling. Are we really doing this?

He smoothed his hand across my breast, his palm stroking my nipple, and I gasped. Yes. Yes, we’re doing this.

He dipped his head, leaning over my shoulder to take my nipple into his mouth and I squirmed, ribbons of pleasure whip-cracking down to connect with the heat that was building in my groin. He tugged the other strap of my suit down and now I was topless, my breasts throbbing and sensitive as the breeze wafted against them.

I bit my lip. The idea of people watching us made every sensation, every touch of his hands on me, feel more intense. It was past midnight, so we didn’t have to worry about kids seeing and it was our own private villa: we weren’t doing anything wrong. But something was making me hesitate. I’m curvy, not a willowy model, and my insecurities were whispering.

He put his lips to my ear and, as he used both hands to squeeze and rub my breasts, he whispered, “Your body is incredible. Since I first saw you, I dreamed about doing this.” He squeezed my breasts, just the right kind of roughly, and kissed the side of my neck.

I whinnied and looked out at the darkness. “People might see me.”

“I hope so,” he told me. “They can see what an incredible wife I’ve got and be jealous.”

I went warm inside and the fear dropped away. The only opinion that mattered was his.

I leaned back against his chest and let the sensations take over. His lips worked up and down my neck and a slow drumbeat of pleasure began in my core, vibrating out through my whole body. I reached back and ran my hands down his sides, fingers trailing over the hard ridges of his abs and the muscled hardness of his thighs.

He tugged my swimsuit down over my stomach, down to my groin. Then he lifted me for a second and suddenly the swimsuit was sliding down my legs and off. It floated to the surface, and I settled back down onto his lap, panting in shock and excitement. There were suddenly so many sensations: warm currents in the water caressed the delicate lips of my pussy, jets of bubbles were rushing over the inside of my thighs, and I felt suddenly so... free . His cock was rock hard, now, and I was basically straddling it, the shaft between the cheeks of my ass and the head just nudging my pussy. The wet fabric of his swim shorts was so thin that it might as well not have been there. I swallowed, that drumbeat inside me pounding faster and faster.

He took one breast in his hand and squeezed it while pulling me back against his chest. The other hand went down between my legs and began to rub my now-naked pussy: steady, expert strokes that made me tremble and thrash, my toes breaking the surface. He leaned down and kissed me, his tongue darting into my mouth as fingers pushed slowly into me, finding me soaking and ready. I could feel his chest moving against my back: he was panting and when he broke the kiss for a second, I could hear the raw lust in his voice. “ God!” I moaned.

He suddenly lifted me off his lap, helping me stand so that I was hip-deep in the water. He slid out from behind me and then gently pushed me down into the padded seat. Looming over me, he adjusted my position, pulling me forward until I was right on the edge of the seat. Then he sank to his knees, ducked his head beneath the surface and?—

I threw my head back and gasped, my mouth open wide as he buried his tongue in my pussy. He wasn’t building up slowly or teasing me, this was full-on and hungry, his strong hands holding my legs wide, thumbs circling on the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, as his tongue dived deep and his upper lip rubbed at my clit. It was incredible: the warm, bubbling water was stroking every part of me, like I was being kissed everywhere at once, and his tongue was fucking me in a rhythm that made me his helpless puppet, my hands grabbing at the rim of the tub while my legs kicked, and my ass twisted in the seat. I reached down and tangled my fingers in his dark hair, out of control.

I began to buck against his face. The drumbeat that was crashing through me was going so fast, now, that it was an endless vibration, making my body tremble. “Fuck,” I said, even though he couldn’t hear me. “Fuck. Fuck, Radimir…”

The orgasm roared towards me, and I closed my eyes. The fact we were in public was forgotten; everything was forgotten. He put his lips over my clit, flicking it with his tongue and sucking, and I lost it. My thighs clamped closed against his cheeks and I trapped him there as the climax thundered through me, wave after wave. Only when it finally let go of me did I let go, opening my thighs, and he stood up, panting but laughing, water streaming down his shoulders and flanks. “Trying to drown your husband for the insurance?” he asked.

I was barely capable of speech. “Sorry,” I croaked.

He grinned at me, his eyes gleaming. “It would have been a good way to go.” He waded over to the edge of the hot tub and pulled a foil packet from the bundle of towels he’d brought up to the roof with him. Then he turned to me, pushed down his swim shorts and stepped out of them. He stared into my eyes as he rolled the condom onto his cock, then sat down in one of the other seats, his cock standing straight up underwater. “Come here.”

My legs were still shaking, and it took me a moment to stand. Steam rose from my body as I waded over to him. Little aftershocks were still trembling through me from the orgasm, and I could hear myself panting.

I stepped forward so that my legs were either side of his and he scooched forward to the very edge of the seat. I slowly squatted down, my hands on his shoulders, and he guided his cock to me. God, the water made everything so much more intense! I could feel the currents stroking at my sensitive, engorged lips as they flowered open...and then the shocking heat of the head of his cock, pushing at my entrance. I gasped, adjusted my angle and sank onto him. The buoyancy made it easy; I could go really...slow… I closed my eyes and bit my lip as the head of him stretched me...and then he was gliding up into me, eased by my wetness, and it was the best thing in the world.

I sank down and it was tight, silken perfection, every inch he touched sending out shimmering, silver stars of pleasure. I stopped, panting, then pressed on his shoulders and pushed myself up again, drawing him from me until just the head held me open, then sinking back down again. This time, I kept going, a long, satiny rush, and he cursed and clutched me tight as I took him right down to the root.

We stayed like that for a moment, breathing hard. I was sitting in his lap, with his arms wrapped around me and my breasts gently brushing his chest as the currents moved them. With him hilted inside me and my groin pressed tight up against his, I could feel every tiny movement he made, every breath he took, and I felt so incredibly close to him.

I tentatively pushed myself up again, not used to being in control, and he growled deep in his chest as I moved on him. Up, up, up...and then down, unleashing another starburst of pleasure, one I had to have again, now . I started to rise and fall on him, using my legs to power me and wrapping my arms around his neck for support. I stared right into those eyes that once had been so frozen: now, they were meltingly hot and completely locked on mine. Each time I lifted myself it was a long, slow loss that only made my downward rush sweeter. I kept it slow at first, wanting to savor the feeling, and he cursed under his breath...but controlled himself and let me set the pace. But I couldn’t go slow for long: the silvery explosion of pleasure as he rushed into me was too addictive and I started moving faster and faster, bouncing in his lap, turning the surface of the hot tub into rolling waves.

He ran his hands up my body and cupped my breasts, rubbing my nipples as they bounced in his hands. I moved faster, and the silvery bursts of pleasure started to merge together, crackling through my whole body. I went even faster, my ass slapping against his thighs underwater, and the starbursts began to melt...but I couldn’t move fast enough to heat them to full, molten silver. The water was hard to move through quickly and my joints were beginning to ache.

He understood. He gripped my hips and used his strength to move me, hauling me up and ramming me down on his cock. My mouth opened but I couldn’t speak: each deep, hard stroke sent out another silvery rush and now they were melting together, becoming a dense, molten ball that was compressing and compressing. He slid his hands under my ass and squeezed my cheeks, slamming me down on him, now, the water churning and splashing over the edges. He began to squeeze my ass cheeks in rhythm with the fucking and the slight roughness made it even better. He moved me faster and I sucked in my breath, faster and I trembled. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to his, feeling my walls beginning to flutter around him...

He braced his feet against the bottom of the hot tub and strained upwards with his hips, grinding against my clit, and that was enough to send me over the edge. I moaned into his ear, feeling myself beginning to come, and he clutched me tight to him as I writhed against him and he shot and shot inside me.

When we’d recovered, he gently lifted me out of the hot tub and lovingly dried me with a towel, then carried me downstairs, a limp, happy mess.

I woke, but didn’t know why.

The bedroom was quiet and still but I had a vague half-memory of hearing something. Several somethings. Soft thumps on the floor. Had Radimir gotten up and was walking around?

Eyes still closed, I felt for him...then relaxed when I felt the reassuring warm slab of his pec under my cheek. God, I was so happy! Happy like I’d never been. When I felt the first twinge of worry in my stomach, I blocked it out. Nope. Not spoiling this.

But as I lay there in the darkness, the worries multiplied, creeping in from different angles until I had to acknowledge them. This was literally the honeymoon period. Was this really going to work, long term, when there was this huge part of his life that I wasn’t part of, and that might wind up killing him?

Part of me was disappointed about our conversation on the sailboat: I guess on some stupid, secret level, I’d hoped he’d say Of course I’ll leave the Bratva for you, my love, and become a hedge fund manager or something, and that would be that. And another part of me was almost jealous, as if he was choosing it over me.

But most of me understood. If he had left the Bratva for me, I’d have felt guilty forever. And he hadn’t chosen the Bratva over me, a gangster was just what he was. I’d fallen in love with all of him, including that part. He’d already changed for me, more than I’d thought possible. I couldn’t expect him to throw away his whole life. And maybe things would calm down now. Gennadiy had said there was a ceasefire, right? Maybe the worst was over.

I squeezed the sleeping Radimir a little tighter: Mine! Then I stretched out my legs, getting comfortable, so I could get back to sleep.

My foot brushed something cold and leathery, and I frowned. Aw, crap. I must have put my purse on the bed at some point, and it had somehow wound up under the covers. It would keep catching on my toes and annoying me if I didn’t move it.

Very carefully, so as not to wake my husband (my husband!), I unwound myself from him and burrowed down under the covers to grab it. Where’s the strap? I strained for it but couldn’t quite reach. I burrowed a little deeper, strained again, and managed to touch it.

And the leathery thing moved towards me, slithering over my hand.