Page 57 of Lord of Justice

"Do you want to see how deep I am in you?" Sliding my arm under the small of her back, I yank it up into an arch and press the heel of my hand just under her belly button. "Here." I’m pushing harder as my eyes roll back in my head. "I can feel myself inside you, shoving through that tight, gripping cunt."

Iris puts her hand over mine, and I move it, pressing her fingers against the smooth line of her stomach. Her amber eyes burn like an explosion of heat. "That's- You're in my throat! I can't breathe like this."

The venom creeps up my spine, a sly reminder of how good it's going to be, coating her in my comeas she milks me dry. "You can," I rasp, kissing and biting her nipples. "Yes, you can."

Now there's nothing left in me to be careful. I hammer inside her savagely, her slick covering my balls and my thighs. Sliding my hand up to her throat, I tighten my fingers, just enough that she knows they're there at first, then tighter. "Come for me, wife. My slut. My Tsarina.Now."

It's enough to send sweet little Iris into a full body spasm, gripping me so tight that she nearly chokes the come out of me, shaking and moaning as I squeeze one last time before pulling my hand away from her neck. Her arms are stretched out limply, my perfect sacrifice, her cunt convulsing around me, taking everything as I flood her.

I stay buried inside my wife until I feel her begin to shiver, both of us moaning when I pull my dick free and lift her in my arms.

"You did so well for me." I kiss her slack lips. "I'll take care of you now."

***

Malen'kiy tsvetok- Russian for little flower.

Yebat' menya- Russian for fuck me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

In which we ask, “Is that a machete?”

Iris…

"Areyou a serial killer?"

Andrey's hand slows, he's been washing my back with a big dollop of body wash and throwing in a little massage for free. He carried me down from the roof and drew a bath for me in his unfeasibly enormous tub. I was as limp as a flounder, but he lifted me, stepped into the water and sat down smoothly, still holding my boneless self. Like it was nothing.

The moment I saw him there in the living room, stripping out of his bloody jeans, Iknewit was him. The blood-soaked monster from the alleyway who'd given me nightmares for weeks.

So maybe his alarming strength was another sign that I was correct about the serial killer thing. Mind you, I'm still sprawled over him like a starfish and the whole issue should be upsettingme more than it is.

Rose would laugh her ass off and call me "cock drunk," which is essentially accurate.

"You think I'm a serial killer?" His chest against my cheek rumbles nicely as his deep voice asks the question.

"The first time I saw you in the alley behind that club, Dark Matter, I thought you were. You were still holding that gigantic knife. Is that a machete? Do you kill people with a machete?"

"It's a KA-BAR."

"Is that a machete?"

"No, it's much sharper. You could cut through bone with a KA-BAR blade."

"So, you're a serial killer with a KA-BAR."

Improbably, I feel his broad chest rumble with what could be considered a chuckle.

"I'm not a serial killer," Andrey says, the back of his hand trailing down my arm. "Everyone I kill richly deserves it."

Wincing, I turn slightly on his lap, resting on my hip. "You're about to become a State Supreme Court Justice and you're running around shirtless, hacking people up. Isn't the whole midnight vigilante thing incredibly risky, given your new gig?"

"The world is not a fair or just place. I've come to believe that even more so as an attorney." His long finger is tapping thoughtfully along the side of the bathtub, and I wait for him to continue, even though it's killing me to not jump in with questions. I get the feeling that a barrage of those would shut Andrey down, and he'd dismiss me.

And to be honest, I really like the intimacy; the warmth of the tub, lying against his wet skin and examining his tattoos, hearing his deep voice rumble in his chest. Maybe he’s feeling it too and that's why he is willing to talk.

"Iamfrom a criminal organization. It’s never a surprise when bastards like us walk free." He pulls my thigh over his lap, settling comfortably. "However, when I do come across those with power and influence who are so profoundly evil that justice never touches them, it becomes my responsibility to finish them off. The man I killed the night you saw me was in the Red Trade.”