Lara slowly nods.
“Maybe,” she says. “I would like to meet your brother. What’s his girlfriend like?”
I can’t help laughing at the idea of anybody calling Sloane a “girlfriend.”
“What?” Lara says.
“It’s just that word. She’s more like his partner-in-crime. Or the devil on his shoulder. She’s great though, you’ll like her. You’ve got some things in common.”
“Like what?” Lara asks.
“Well, nobody’s going to stop either of you from getting what you want.”
“Do you know what I want right now?” Lara asks, taking a sip of her drink. She looks up at me mischievously, lips pursed around her straw.
“No,” I say. Actually, I have an idea from the color in her cheeks, but I want to make her say it.
“Well, if I’m going to stay over, I’ve got to pack a few things. So maybe you could come to my apartment and help me get ready?”
I can already feel my cock stiffening inside my jeans at the idea of getting Lara completely alone somewhere. On the other hand . . .
“Erdeli’s not waiting there to shoot me, is he?”
She frowns at me, annoyed.
“Dom . . .”
“I’m kidding! Yes, I’ll take you to your flat.”
I drive her over to Sadovaya Street, to the block of ugly concrete flats that’s becoming so familiar to me. I understand that Erdeli has been hiding Lara here “in plain sight” so to speak. Still, it makes me nervous that she’s living in a normal building, without any kind of doorman or extra security. I’d feel so much better if she stayed at the monastery with me.
I am curious to see her place, though.
Lara leads me up the stairs to the third floor, down the nondescript hallway to the last door on the right-hand side. These khrushchyovka buildings are simple and plain in the extreme—constructed during the Soviet era, they’re made of prefabricated concrete and pre-assembled bathroom and kitchen units, slotted into place like Lego blocks.
They have no beauty or style, and very little space. Never more than five stories tall because they have no elevators—they were supposed to be temporary. Now they’re crumbling apart, having lived way past their intended lifespan.
It doesn’t surprise me that Erdeli chooses to live in a place like this. Since he’s the only cop I know actually living off his salary, he probably can’t afford anything else. Plus, his image of incorruptibility requires him to shun any sign of luxury.
Still, it’s depressing. All the more reason to get Lara out of here.
She unlocks the door, letting me inside the flat. I see a dim, dingy space, cracked countertops, musty carpet and tiles.
The only life comes from Lara’s watercolors taped to the walls. I recognize her style immediately. And I know Erdeli sure as shit doesn’t paint.
“It’s funny having you in here,” she says to me.
“Why?”
“Because you look so big compared to this tiny apartment. You don’t seem to fit in it.”
“I like it, though,” I tell her.
“No, you don’t. It’s hideous.”
“I like it because it smells like your perfume.”
She smiles, showing her pretty white teeth.
“Are you sure that’s not Pavel’s cologne? Maybe you love the way he smells,” she teases me.
I grab hold of her and pull her down on the couch with me.
“I know your perfume,” I growl, nuzzling roughly at her neck.
“Maybe I could come to like this place too,” she says. “Now that you’re in it.”
“I don’t want you to like it. I want you to come stay with me.”
“I can’t.”
I pin her down on the couch, my hands trapping her wrists over her head.
“I could kidnap you again,” I tell her, letting my free hand roam down her body. I lift her shirt up, baring her soft, flat belly. I lift it a little higher and tug up the bottom of her bra, revealing the full bottom curve of her breast. Lara gasps when my fingertips graze her flesh.
“Don’t you dare!” she says furiously. “You’re lucky I forgave you for the first time.”
“You’re lucky I ever let you go the first time,” I say, keeping her hands firmly pinned. I bite down on the material of her bra and pull it right up off her chest with my teeth, completely baring her breasts. Her nipples tighten up and stand out from her chest, a sight that sends a surge of arousal through my body.
There’s something very exotic in the olive tone of her skin and her nut-brown nipples. It reminds me of the movie Lara mentioned when we first met—The Mummy. Specifically, the opening scene where the pharaoh’s wife has her whole body painted so that if anyone touches her, the king will know. I’d love to dress Lara up in nothing but gold and black body paint, like an Egyptian princess.
I close my mouth around her nipple, sucking hard. Lara squirms all the harder, but I’m not letting her move an inch. I unbutton her jeans and shove my free hand into her panties, roughly parting her pussy lips and pushing my fingers inside.
She’s already wet. Her pussy squeezes tight around my fingers, and her clit grinds against my thumb as she bucks her hips, wanting more.
Because Lara was a virgin, I’ve tried to be gentle with her.
But it’s so difficult to hold myself back. What I want to do is ravage her body. I want to unleash myself on her, flipping her into every possible position, using her any way I please. I want to wring the pleasure out of her, making her cum over and over again.
I don’t know if she’s ready for that. But she’s definitely ready for more.
So I turn her over, bending her over the arm of the couch so her face is down, and her hips and ass are up in the air. Her bottom looks fuller and rounder than ever from this position. I’ve never seen a petite girl with these kinds of curves. If Lara were a racetrack, she’d be the Monaco Tabac.
I kneel behind her and thrust into that tight little pussy, my hands gripping her hips. I’ve tried to be so gentle with her, but I need Lara to feel how badly I want her. I need her to understand what she does to me, what she unleashes in me.
I fuck her hard and fast, making her ass bounce against my hips. I love seeing the force of the impact ripple across her flesh. I love the smacking sound of my cock pounding into her.
I fuck her until my chest is shining with sweat. Then I flip her over again so I can see her pretty face.
I plunge into her again, watching her eyes widen as my cock sinks deep inside of her after the momentary reprieve.
“Jesus,” she gasps.
“Come stay with me,” I say again.
“I can’t, not yet. You have to be patient . . .”
“Do I seem like a patient man?” I growl, fucking her all the harder.
“Yes! I mean, no!” she pants.
Her face and chest are flushed with color. She’s clinging to me, grinding against me. I can tell that she likes the roughness, likes knowing how badly I want her. She’s trying to cum, squeezing around me. But she can’t get quite the right angle with me on top.
So I cup my hands under her ass and stand up, lifting her up with my cock still inside of her. She squeals and wraps her arms around my neck, confused as to exactly where I’m taking her.