Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Lenin

This place is trash. I wish to go back to my jigsaw puzzle at home.

Back in Moscow, strip clubs aren’t quite so obvious. They are more like a regular night club, less like an alcohol-fueled free-for-all. Alas, I suffer in this kind of environment no matter what. There is no control or predictability in a place where men are frustrated and women are making them so on purpose. I thrive on control. Having things in order, where they fit. In a place such as this, there is always some resentment in the air, coming from the stage and cheap seats alike. It annoyed and distracted me, so I said da when the sweaty, pale man offered me a private dance in another part of the club.

He reminded me of a gnat, buzzing around me, landing briefly with words like first-time dancer, special price, blah blah blah. I care about none of it. I simply wanted him to shut his mouth and it suited my purposes to leave the main floor with this man.

Where I can kill him with ease, as I’ve been hired to do. The contract was set up by his ex-business partner through my employer, but I care not for the details.

I let out a bored breath and let my elbow graze the Glock holstered at my side. This one isn’t even going to be a challenge. When my employer ordered the hit, I hung up without accepting right away. It only took me a few minutes of internet searching to confirm this man deserves to be put into the ground. Drug charges, soliciting prostitution in this very club. Assault against a woman. That last one sealed the deal.

As soon as we’re alone, I’ll perform my duty and be home in time for Shark Tank.

That Barbara Corcoran is a shrewd one. I find I enjoy her insight very much.

But first, the job. It is just another task in a series of many. It is nearing its end, however. My debt to my employer is almost paid and then I will be free to do my puzzles in peace. I follow the gnat man through a curtain of silver beads into a small lounge that, if possible, is even more disgusting than the main floor. The room glows in a neon blue light, doing nothing to hide the torn leather couches and stained industrial carpet. If the moans coming from the dark corners are any indication, the stains are not from spilled drinks.

I sigh and briefly close my eyes. “Is there somewhere more private?” I ask.

In a place like this, there always is. A backroom where men are allowed to do a lot more than receive a lap dance. For an increased fee, of course.

I merely want a place with no witnesses.

His answering laugh sets my teeth on edge. “Is that an accent? I didn’t notice it before. Where are you from, buddy? Russia or something?”

“Nyet. I’m from hell. Have you been?”

He thinks this is very funny and slaps his knee, giggling like a small child. “Perfect. This is perfect. You’re going to put that spoiled bitch right in her place.”

I assume by “spoiled bitch,” he’s talking about this first-time dancer—and these are words that don’t make sense to me. If she was spoiled, she wouldn’t be working in this godforsaken dump. First-time dancer. Spoiled. Is she here against her will?

I find I do not like this idea very much at all.

Congratulations, gnat. You have earned an extra minute of breathing because I’m now interested in seeing the dancer. If I can help it, I never let women suffer, like so many women in my life did when I was a youth. Powerless. Too young to help them.

I’m not powerless now.

I’m this piece of shit’s worst nightmare.

“As luck would have it,” says the gnat, “there is a backroom. But this here dancer…” Trying to play coy, he scratches the back of his neck, but dollar signs are in his eyes. “When I say she’s never danced. I mean she’s never danced, if you catch my drift. It’d cost you a pretty penny if you want more than a show.”

“You already knew I could afford it, though. That’s why you approached me, da?”

He sputters for a moment, looking over my pressed, gray suit. “You don’t exactly look look like my typical customer.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey,” he says, frowning. “These are decent, hard-working—”

“Enough. Where is this girl? I will decide if she’s worth emptying my wallet over.” I study the cuff of my jacket. “Based on your talent working the main stage, I doubt it.”

Now he’s got something to prove, this child living in a man’s body. “You just wait. There’s a reason I’ve kept her locked upstairs.”

Bastard.I grind my molars as he leaves the room, my hand itching to reach for the gun, twist on my silencer and aim. To end his miserable existence. Wherever the first-time dancer is, she will be freed once he takes his final breath. There’s no need to wait. But just as I’m about to follow him into whatever dark backroom he’s disappeared into, the silver beads swing—and my heart spikes down into my stomach, then rams up into my throat.

Angel.

It does not make sense to my brain that she is standing in this place. She belongs in the clouds. Or sitting on a silk pillow sipping champagne. Dear God, I’ve never seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my thirty-three years. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head, little pieces tickling her graceful neck. Her mouth is plump, brown eyes round and spirited. Scared, but brave. I will slaughter him for making you scared, angel.

How long has she been scared? Locked up?

A roar builds in my throat and my arm muscles seize. Adrenaline turns the slow pulse in my neck into a fast, staccato beat. I’m primed to kill.

I’m primed for more than that, though. My cock is pounding with lust, growing and stretching out in my pants. Hungry. I’m so hungry and my craving is her skin. I want to remove the long, blue, see-through robe she’s wearing and lick every inch of her body. Never before have I wanted a woman with this urgency. My couplings in the past were functions I performed as part of my job. Infiltrating places like this. Getting closer to the target through any means necessary.

Never for pleasure.

Having this angel beneath me would be all for pleasure. I’m prepared to spill my come just looking at her, smelling the light floral scent. She’s pleasuring me simply by existing.

I communicate to her with my eyes that I will save her. I will show her the true definition of being spoiled. Yes. That is to be my new job.

I train my eyes on the gnat and reach for my gun.

My step falters when the angel’s eyes widen and she gives me a small headshake.

“I-I want to dance for you. Sir.” She swallows and my balls grow heavy. “Please?”

It’s the please that renders me motionless. I don’t think I can say no to this creature.

I think it might be…impossible?

In that moment, I realize the angel has a great weapon against me, indeed. From a young age, I’ve been forced to earn money to feed my destitute family by working for the Bratva. First lesson they taught me? Weaknesses will get you killed. Still, I can’t stop myself from nodding and rasping, “Da. Whatever you wish.”

The gnat laughs knowingly and I swallow my venom. “Thought you might change your tune once you saw the merchandise.”

He pushes the angel in my direction and I catch her up against me. A groan leaves my mouth because she’s so lush and feminine, but I’m torn between absorbing the salvation of her soft curves—and putting a bullet in the man who dared to lay his hands on her. Up close, I can see the bruising at her temple, on the sides of her throat, and my lips peel back from my teeth. I open my mouth to tell her I’ve come to slay her tormentor, but I stop myself.

What if she does not want a cold-blooded killer?

What if I repulse her?

It would not be a surprise. She already can’t look too fondly upon men. My code of honor—killing only those who warrant killing—might not sway her. After all, she is not from the brutal underground worlds where I cut my teeth. She is an innocent.

My dick hoists with that reminder and she gasps.

Nyet. I cannot scare her away. My debt to my employer will soon be paid and she’ll never have to know about my dark lifestyle.

“Please…” she says, going up on her tiptoes and whispering in my ear. It’s euphoria. “Please just let me dance for you or he’ll—”

“He’ll nothing,” I grind out. “He’ll do nothing to you ever again.”

She looks up into my eyes and casts a spell. “Why?”

“Because…” What was I saying? My brain is not functioning at its usual pace. I can’t seem to focus on anything but the little tits pressed up against my chest. “Never mind how I’ll keep him from bothering you, angel. Just trust me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Sweat forms on my spine. I don’t like her not trusting me. Only a few seconds of it and I’m miserable. “How can I make you trust me?”

“Tell me how to um…please you.” She looks back over her shoulder at the gnat, the pulse in her neck speeding up in obvious fear. “I have to please the customer. Teach me how.”

“You are not required to please me, angel. Not here. Not like this.”

She appears bewildered. “Why are you here if not for pleasure?”

To put a bullet between your tormentor’s eyes.I can’t say such a thing to this girl. Those words would soil her. I don’t like not telling her the truth. In fact, I loathe it. But I must allow her to believe I’m here for pleasure. Otherwise she’ll ask more questions or grow suspicious that she’s dealing with someone unworthy and then she’ll never trust me. Or leave with me.

Da.That’s what I want more than anything. This angel to let me take her from this place. Perhaps if we go through with the dance, I can convince her to trust me. Go home with me.

There’s no way I’m letting her dance in front of an audience, though. Especially not this gnat, who even now is rubbing his hands together. I hate giving him what he wants, but there’s no choice. Swallowing my distaste, I take out my wallet and remove the wad of hundred-dollar bills. All of it. Without taking my eyes off the girl, I hand it to him over her shoulder. “Get the fuck out.”

Even though I’m not looking at him, I sense his eyes bugging out of his head. “You got it, man. Just knock on my office door when you’re done. Don’t want her running off when she’s raking in this kind of cash.”

“Go.” Before I rip out your throat.

With a clang of beads, the gnat is gone and I’m alone with the angel. She looks so small in the blue light, her eyes wide in her beautiful face. Little treasure, so scared. It makes me want to howl like a maimed bear.

“What is your name?” I ask, aching to cup her cheek.

“Oh, um…”

“Your real one, if you please.”

She swallows. “Margaret.”

The name slides down my throat like a fine wine. “Margaret. I am Lenin.”

“Lenin.” I could jerk off for a decade to that single utterance of my name, but she’s looking too nervous for me to relax. “There are cameras. We have to get started.”

“I’ve paid more than enough for you to take your time.”

That doesn’t make her relax. “You paid enough to do…everything. With me.” Her eyes drop to my crotch and she sucks in a breath. “Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Nyet. We do what makes you comfortable.”

“Sitting in a bubble bath with a book would make me comfortable. That doesn’t strike me as an option.”

If I had the capability to laugh, I would. She is clever on top of everything else? I’m struck with the sudden fear that I might have never met Margaret if I’d simply pulled the trigger, killed the gnat and disappeared into the night. That thought gives me great panic. “I will take you from this place right now, angel. I will draw you a bubble bath and send for enough books to fill a library. All you have to do is ask.”

“Stick with the devil you know. My mother used to say that.” She shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Stripping sucks, but my head in a duffel bag sounds worse.”

I might as well have a bullet wound in my chest. And it wouldn’t be the first time. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head.”

Her brown eyes soften and she chews her luscious lower lip. She wants desperately to believe me. Desperately wants out of this place. But this one finds it hard to trust—and I respect that. I understand, but I want her confidence so much I’d sell my soul to get it. “Can you prove you won’t…harm me?”

“You said it yourself,” I respond. “I paid enough to have my way with you.”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“I will not do it, angel.” Much as my body is begging for otherwise. “I will not lay a finger on you without permission.”

“How do I know you’ll stay so noble once we leave?”

What I do next is a risk, but I can think of no other option. The movements feel unnatural—giving up my weapon. But I angle my body to block the camera and show her the gun in my jacket. “Take the gun now, if you wish. I won’t stop you. That would give you two weapons against me.”

She blinks down at the gun, up at me. “What is the other one?”

“Every fucking thing about you.”

Her breath catches. “We just met.”

“Da. When you know, you know. My mother used to say that.”

The corner of her mouth tilts up. “I’ll think about your offer. But…keep the gun for now.” Her eyes go the camera and she shakes herself, as if remembering something. “Will you sit down, please?”

I drop down onto the cushion, hooking my arms over the backrest. My thighs shift and widen out of necessity, thanks to the space my erection takes up. “It seems important that you dance for me, angel. Why?”

Margaret starts to confide but shoots the camera another look and closes her mouth. “Just tell me what…” She tucks a loose hair behind her ear. “What do men like?”

“Men who get lap dances, you mean?”

Briefly, she pouts. “Men like you, I guess.”

Acid singes my throat. “In time you will know I’m nothing like the men in this place, angel.” We both spend a few seconds looking at my cock. It’s not something that can be avoided at its full size. “Come closer and let me start proving it.” She takes a bracing breath, then steps between my outstretched legs. Hesitantly, her fingertips skim up my thighs and I battle back a moan. “Blyad.”

Margaret has no idea the picture she creates in her long, blue lingerie. Azure light fans out around her, shadowing her gorgeous face and suddenly I’m a dying man looking up at an angel guarding the gates of heaven. Only, she’s a sexy angel with a little triangle of blue silk hiding her pussy and the barest hint of lace covering her tits. Her thighs. Goddammit. They are smooth and young enough to make me feel guilty, but not enough to stop looking. She’s a feast and all I have to do to gorge myself is put her beneath me on this couch. I could wedge my hips between her thighs, pin her with my upper body and fit my fat cock inside her. Ram it, ram it, ram it until my balls are empty. No one would stop me.

Bastard.Look at her eyes. You’re losing yourself.

With a hard swallow and a silent apology to Margaret for momentarily letting lust control my mind, I begin to instruct her. It’s important for her to dance and thus it is important to me. I’ve never paid for a dance such as this, but I’ve witnessed enough men succumbing to their weaknesses to know how it’s done. “Begin by teasing me, angel. Touch your beautiful body. Make me wish your hands are mine.” My cock surges against my zipper when her fingertips glide up her hips and ribcage. There is music coming from the main stage. It’s muffled, but enough to provide her body with a beat and she sways to it, side to side. “Reveal yourself to me,” I rasp. “Slowly.”

Margaret plucks at the bow holding the sides of her sheer robe together. My mouth dries up at the sound of silk sliding on silk. With nimble fingers, she begins to part the sides of her robe, but turns before I can get an unobstructed look at her tits and pussy. What I get instead is see-through material dropping away to reveal her high, plump, little butt cheeks in a baby blue thong and my dick jerks, releasing a spurt of semen into my pants.

My groan is obscene. “Margaret. I will one day eat that pretty ass to kingdom come.”

She gasps and looks back at me over her shoulder. “You…you’re already seeming pleased and I haven’t even started.”

“Yes, angel, it pleases me to look at you a great fucking deal.”

Something new dances across her expression. Something like confidence. She reaches back and unhooks her bra. Keeping it cupped to her tits, she turns and after a brief hesitation, straddles my lap. I’m barely recovered from the sight of her belly and the stretched silk over her pussy when her weight settles onto my thighs—and she slides closer by accident, her cunt colliding with my bulge, our mouths coming within an inch of each other. “Oh,” she whimpers as I try not to come. “I guess I need some practice.”

“Da,” I say hoarsely, rolling my hips and panting at the sensation of silky pussy dragging on my dress pants. “As long as this practice happens on Lenin’s lap only.”

A puff of air leaves her. “You’re so affected by me,” she whispers in awe. “I thought this would make me feel small and nervous, but…is it strange that I feel in control of what’s happening for the first time…ever?”

I like the excited bloom of color on her cheeks, so I lift my hips again and her coloring deepens, a quiet moan passing her lips. Yes. Responsive girl. Margaret is going to soak my sheets in her come as soon as I can manage it. I’m going to gratify her until she forgets the direction of the sky. “Do you feel this way because I promised not to touch you?”

“Yes. You’re letting me feel free, but…” Beneath hooded eyelids, she scrutinizes my face and looks almost shy. “There’s something about you that makes me want to stay…”

My chest floods with pride and relief. “You’ve been lacking in control, my poor angel,” I lean forward and breathe into her neck, vowing to put a diamond necklace there. “I’m sorry. Take it now. Take, if it will make you trust me.”

Her exhale is uneven, her head falling back. A beat of time passes wherein I sense her softening, giving me an inch of trust. Perhaps even allowing her body to explore what I’m making it feel. I groan loudly when her pussy finally begins to circle on my cock and we lock eyes. Drowsy, innocent girl ones versus those of a starved, seasoned male.

“D-do you want to see me here?” Margaret murmurs, leaning back and indicating her still-covered tits. Only the lace cups remain and she needs only drop the bra and I’ll be looking upon her breasts fully. No barrier. “Do you, Lenin?”

My hips thrust upward violently at her saying my name and I growl. Her expression is startled—yet excited—when she gains air, her backside smacking back down into my lap a split second later. “Show me.” My fingers dig into the back of the leather couch. “Please.”

Seeming to hold her breath, she drops the bra and I rip through the leather, balling the shreds of it in my shaking fists. Her breasts are round and tipped in pink. Jiggly little things that make my mouth water and once again test my willpower. One flip and she’d be flat on her back. She might not even fight me if I shoved her legs open and fucked this lust away. Lust I’ve never felt for anyone but her.

“I love this,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “I’m not sure I should.”

“Anything with me is right, angel. Shake your pretty tits at me, torture and tease me with that virgin hole between your thighs and you will stay safe. You understand me? Lenin keeps you safe. Even from himself. Always.”

“I’ve never felt like this…” she muses, arching her back and riding my cock with tight, sexy hip thrusts, tempting my balls to explode with every sensual movement. “Like what I want…matters.” A shudder passes through her. “Lenin. Oh. That feels g-good.”

I’m groaning so loud I can barely hear, but I struggle to retain what she’s telling me. The way to Margaret’s trust—and maybe even her heart—is to give her back some of the control she’s been lacking. That’s been taken away from her. If it means she’ll stay mine, I’ll give her anything. The universe will be hers. Especially if taking back control means she rubs her sweetheart pussy on my dick. I can keep a leash on my willpower. I can do that for Margaret. For her, I will suffer through anything. And maybe when she trusts me more, I will be given the gift of my hands on her perfect, peachy skin.

She’s fucking me through my pants now, though I’m not sure if she’s aware of it. Her mouth is open, brown eyes blind as she slides up and down on my cock. I know the moment she discovers the location of her clitoris, because she gasps and then her hips make much smaller movements. She leans forward and her tits press on my stomach. She rubs that tiny nub on the hard ridge of my cock, whimpering and moaning. There is no greater privilege than slowly undulating my lower body for her enjoyment, watching this gorgeous little creature use my cock like her personal toy.

I’ve never needed to release my spend with such desperation in my life. Until now, giving in and stroking the pent-up pressure from my body was considered a weakness, but with Margaret, it’s a strength. My come is now praise for her skill. It’s what will give us babies when I finally get inside of her. It’s proof that I’ve been allowed to touch an angel.

Keep her.

I will keep her, this amazing girl who spreads her beautiful thighs wide and masturbates herself on my dick with such abandon. She contains such magic, even though she’s been locked away, treated poorly. Her spirit is intact and I want only to nurture it.

The pain inside me builds to a fever pitch and I rip off more of the couch leather, biting down on my lip until blood is drawn. “Blyad. Angel, you’ll make me go insane.”

“Lenin,” she whines, her fingers twisting in the lapels of my jacket. “I’m going to…”

I thrust up my lower body like a saddle for her pleasure. “That’s right, angel. Keep your little cunt on my lap and let me bounce you around. We can pretend it’s just a game and you’ll stay an innocent girl.”

Her eyes fly to mine and they’re fevered. Excited. Even more than before.

There’s something here. Something she needs—and that means I need it, too.

“Bounce me.” She nods vigorously. “Please.”

I put my mouth to her ear and punch my hips up hard. “Bounce you like Daddy’s good little girl?”

She lands on my lap with a scream and I growl in response, feeling her warm cream through my pants, wishing she was letting it out all over my mouth and chin, where I could lick it up. I rock my hips hard, helping her ride out her shaking, crying orgasm, but I force my own release down with a brutal yell. My intention was to come, but…

I’m fucking in love. I’m in love with Margaret and I will not climax again until the head of my cock is pressed up against her womb, making her the mother of my children. I can’t stand to waste what’s inside me before then. I’m momentarily blind with the frustration and I tear another hole in the couch as Margaret continues to sob against my chest, her pussy now warm and pliant where it cradles my dick, stroking it through my pants.

A moment later, I’m looking up into Margaret’s flushed face. She blinks at me, her attention dropping to the shredded leather in my hands.

“Okay, fine…” she pants. “I’ll go with you.”

I bare my teeth in victory. “This means you trust me, angel?”

“I think I might,” she whispers. “There’s something I need to get first from upstairs, though.” Still seemingly dazed, she worries her lip. “Will you help me? Hank might have already hidden it. If he knows I’m coming to take it, he’ll find a way to destroy it.”

My eyebrows pull together. “This is why you danced for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes. He told me he would burn it, if I didn’t please the customer.” A beat passes. “But I don’t think you’ll let that happen.”

I grunt my happiness, though I have a strange impulse to laugh again. She trusts me. I’ve done it. “That gnat will not give us a problem.”

She smiles, bright and dazzling. “The gnat?”

My heart inflates like a hot-air balloon. “Da. He is an annoying insect, nothing more.” I nod. “We will get this thing you need.”

“Thank you,” she breathes. “This is all happening very fast.”

“Fast is good. Fast makes me happy when it comes to you.”

Margaret dresses once again in her bra and see-through robe, her movements nimble and elegant. I’m dying to kiss her. Craving her mouth. Next time. Next time she will ask for my mouth by name and I’ll provide.

Tearing my eyes off her beautiful face, I take her hand and lead her into the dark hallway. Before we’ve taken five steps, the gnat emerges from his office, my money still in his sweaty grip. “There they are. Worth every penny, wasn’t she?” He dares to look at my angel. “Looks like you did inherit some moves from your mother—”

I knock him out cold with a right cross, his head rebounding off the door jamb, his flimsy body landing in a heap. With a bored sigh, I step over him and retrieve a set of keys from his desk, returning and handing them to Margaret. “Let’s go get your stuff. I need to take my angel somewhere worthy of her.”

She looks down at the gnat with wide eyes. I fear I’ve shown her my violent side, even though I’ve tried to avoid it by sparing the gnat’s life. Finally, she lifts her chin and I sense a slight wariness there. I hold my breath, but she takes off down the hallway. “I’ll be just a minute.” She stops and turns. “Did you really mean it about the bubble bath and books?”

“I’ll never say anything to you I don’t mean.”

She looks down at the gun in my jacket. “What about the things you’re not saying?”

I don’t have an answer for that. I can only follow her, protecting her back as she climbs the stairs. I can love her, treat her like a princess, guard her with my life.

But would she want those things if she knew I’m a killer?