Russian Boss’s Secret Baby by Bella King
Ch 39
MIA
Isee Katya in my dreams every night since I killed her.
Killing somebody from a foreign country with no immediate family is so strange. It’s likely that, given her history, there’s nobody who would care to hear from her in the first place, much less look for her body.
In some of my dreams, she is whole, still beautiful despite how awful and rotten she was as a person. In others, I see her as I last saw her, with no face at all. Just a red crater of muscle, blood, and bits of skull. Usually in those dreams, I feel much more satisfied, I feel safer.
Something has changed in me since killing Katya. In a dark way, I feel closer to Slate now than I ever have now that we have this in common. There’s a threshold that I’ve crossed over now, no longer the naïve young woman that I once was.
Now, I need to be a strong woman, a woman capable of killing anybody who threatens her family. I never thought of myself that way, I always expected to be the one who was fragile and weak.
Slate has noticed a change in me, and I know it scares him. He doesn’t know how to talk to me about my emotions or my inner thought life, so he mostly just asks me if I need anything, am I feeling sick, how is the baby, etc.
The killer in me seems to be a brand new person, someone I’ve never seen before in my life who is now mingled with the pieces of myself that I’ve known forever, who have never left me. This person could simply predate all the others.
Maybe she was there all along.
As I become further along in my pregnancy, I’ve started to see Slate as my equal rather than solely my protector. We’re a team now, and that’s something that nobody can take from us. In a way, I almost feel like he respects me more since killing someone, as if now I’m on the same level as him.
I could let this bother me, but I don’t. I did what I did. There’s no point in dwelling if that’s what makes him happy.
We’ve started to consider names for the baby. We’re having a girl, and Slate is hellbent on choosing a Russian name for her. Russian names resonate with me very much, though admittedly the only Russian name I knew before I met Slate was Katya.
He’s been teaching me so much about the culture in Russia, everything he grew up reading and eating and doing. It contrasts so heavily with the life I’ve lived in Miami for so long.
Luke recovered well from being strangled nearly to death. We had no choice but to bring him to the hospital that night, despite the fact that we were all dazed and I had committed my first murder. I know he’s been having night terrors since the attack, and all I can do is try to keep him close and help him feel safe as well.
It’s taken us all a long time to get back to normal, whatever normal can be considered when you’re involved in organized crime. Moving drugs, taking names, striking fear in the hearts of the public. That’s just what we do now.
Today is the first time we’ve left the house together since I killed Katya. At first, I wouldn’t even go out the front door for fear of seeing her again, grinning sardonically at me before she tries to cut my baby out of my body. I saw her die by my own hand and I still can’t shake the fear of seeing her again.
Slate is driving us out to the parking structure across from the building where he was supposed to blow up Katya and her men. The bombs were never recovered, which feels precarious to me, but Slate says it’s likely that another rival mafia family is likely to slip in after Katya, so it makes sense to keep them there for a while.
It’s 11:00 PM, and there’s nobody at the structure except us. He drives us all the way to the top where we can see the whole city, feeling encapsulated in lights all around us. “Down there is where Luke and I were sitting when the cops and ambulances came,” he says, pointing down at a concealed alleyway across the street from the apartment complex.
The darkness of the apartment building contrasts with the surrounding night life, almost like the building itself is a portal to a dark alternate reality. The idea of seeing it blown to pieces doesn’t sounds so bad, even if Katya isn’t inside. I take Slate’s hand in mine and lean on his shoulder as we both watch the city in silence.
After a few moments, Slate’s hand separates from my hand and finds my thigh, his skin touching just beneath the hem of my dress. I smile a bit at the suggestion, suddenly feeling self-conscious at the thought of doing something like this in public. Despite this feeling, his touch has immediately awakened something in me that had been hibernating since the incident with Katya.
I open my legs a little to give him more access, but he doesn’t jump at the opportunity to touch me right away. Instead, his fingers tease at the hem of my dress, slowly crawling up to my panties. That small flame in my belly returns, and I feel insatiable for more. I know he hates it when I rush him or get too greedy, so I know I just need to let him take his time, driving me insane and making me desperate.
When he does finally begin to move toward the wet spot on my panties, I’m almost too sensitive for it right away. I grab onto his arm as he begins to stroke me through the fabric, allowing myself to feel everything I’ve missed for what feels like an eternity. Whenever he touches me, I feel like he knows exactly where to go, like he knows my body better than I do.
He continues, focusing more intently on my clit now; tiny brushes of the tips of his fingers make me melt into my seat, ready to relinquish all my control to him. That’s all it takes for him, just little strokes until I’m ready for him to tear me apart.
When I start to breathe more heavily, he slides his fingers into my panties, finally touching my skin directly and nearly sending me into a fit of convulsions as his fingers enter me, pressing hard and deep inside of me. He’s leaning into me now, the heel of his hand pressing into my clit as he fingers me. I swear, he doesn’t even need his dick if he can fuck me like this with his hand alone.
The warmth of his body near mine, the smell of him as he fingers me, has me nearly rabid for more. I grind myself into his hand as he goes deeper and deeper, moaning out loud now. The streetlights that illuminate the parking structure bathe me in yellow light, and I can watch him as his hand slides in and out of my panties. Being able to see it makes it even more arousing.
I decide that I’m ready for him to take me however he wants. I slip my panties off, exposing myself to him completely for whatever he wants to do with me. I’m hoping he’ll grab me from out of my seat and bring me over to his lap, but instead, he leans down and starts to kiss my thighs. I’ve never experienced this at this particular angle, and it feels so dirty for him to be licking my body from the driver’s seat.
His mouth finds my pussy and immediately he begins sucking on my clit, periodically flicking it with the tip of his tongue. It’s been far too long since I’ve experienced this, and every single sensation feels pointed and unique. I can already feel an orgasm climbing up my spine.
He starts to flatten his tongue along my clit, still taking time to kiss and suck it as I open my legs more to give him better access. I try and try to hold back, to enjoy it just a while longer, but his mouth on me is just too much, and I relent. My body becomes rigid as I cum, forcing more blood flow to my pussy and intensifying the orgasm.
Still coming down from the height of my climax, Slate climbs over to my side of the car and lays the seat down as far as it will go. I wrap my legs around him, nonverbally begging him to annihilate me. He requires little encouragement, pulling his cock out of his pants and sliding in just the tip to tease me. I tease back, grinding my hips against him and forcing him in deeper and deeper until he thrusts all the way inside and I cry out.
He grabs onto me as I wrap my arms and legs around him, practically begging for more without a word. Every stroke feels like its own universe of pleasure, and I feel like I can’t take it. He slows down, ensuring that I feel every inch of him, every vein; and I do.
The warmth in my body has travelled downward, and I can feel myself climbing toward another orgasm as he goes harder and faster without me even asking. His hands find my hair, pulling my head back and kissing my neck and shoulders as I moan louder and louder until my pussy tightens around him and we both cum together so intensely that my vision greys and I claw into his back.
