It was like an old fashioned cowboy showdown.
"Stand down, boys," I advised lightheartedly, sidestepping the three and on foot toward the impromptu staircase ascending to one of Mogilevich's jets.
Vinnie and Ivan were murderously glaring at one another, ready to draw their guns at any moment. Mikhail wasn't too happy, either.
It hadn't been apart of his plan for me to bring one of our men along on our quick trip, but my trust in him wasn't enough for me to have come alone. Besides, he had Ivan with him.
I confidently made my way up the stairs, the engine of the jet humming as two beautiful stewardesses greeted me by its entrance.
The men followed my lead, muttering underneath their breaths like little children.
The inside of the jet was as lavish as one could expect. Mogilevich liked to travel with style, beautiful women and surrounded by luxury.
I wasn't one to judge how he spent his wealth, only how he had acquired it.
"This is a mistake," Vinnie grumbled, trailing right behind me.
"Would you rather I go alone? You can still leave," I reminded him, glancing back just in time to see Mikhail entering the cockpit to speak with the pilots.
The sight of his deliciously rippled back was replaced by a glaring Ivan, who followed Vinnie inside the jet.
"I'm not leaving you alone with these..." he spat out, "savages."
I laughed lightly, unbothered by his disgust for being here with our enemies.
I neared the final row of the first compartment, shielded from the second by a milky glass door.
Seating myself down at the final seat, Ivan all but pushed past Vinnie to stand by the one seat opposite mine.
I peered up at him curiously.
"I'll sit with her," Vinnie gritted out, struggling to hold himself back.
Ivan remained silent, his hard eyes fixed ahead, preventing Vinnie from seating himself down.
"I think Mikhail wants to sit there," I came to the conclusion, "it's a short flight, anyway."
"Then it shouldn't be such a big deal where we sit," he neared Ivan's side threateningly, but the stoic man remained wordless.
I sighed out deeply. The flight from London to Brussels wouldn't be long, but with constant bickering it would drag on forever. Still, I didn't regret having brought Vinnie with me, on the one condition that he would keep this mission from my father.
Despite his newly acclaimed trust in me and my future as the heir of our family, two things I had dreamed and craved for since the death of my mother, I had to finish what I had started and rid the world of the disgusting men who benefited most from human trafficking. Only then would I be able to focus on the future.
Mikhail appeared from the front of the jet, dark eyes focusing in on me, unfazed by the silly standoff between our companions.
"Natalia, I need to show you something," he informed me gruffly, "once we've taken off."
"Could you tell your friend to-" Vinnie cut in furiously, but the devil's attention unwaveringly remained on me.
The promising way in which Mikhail watched me had rendered me suddenly very pliant and hot, a warm pool of tension gathering in my lower stomach. The glimmer of a lewd promise in his overwhelming gaze excited me too much to think about much else.
"Find somewhere else to sit," I snapped and glared at the pleased grin tugging up the sides of Mikhail's inviting lips.
"Christ, Natasha..." Vinnie's hurt expression directed over at me, but finally complied and moved to sit across the small hallway with a deep exhale.
I averted my eyes from Mikhail. Ivan muttered out something and seated himself opposite Vinnie, both keeping a distrusting eye on the other, with only the aisle separating us.
--
She had too be Angelina Jolie's long lost twin.
I scowled at the way she shamelessly brushed her chest against his upper arm, lips moving seductively with a whisper right by his ear.
He was comfortably resting back in his seat, taking full enjoyment in the displeased expression etched on my face, unable to look away from their intimate interaction.
His dark eyes had never once left mine while he listened to whatever the stunning stewardess was beckoning of him with a low chuckle.
The small bump of turbulence definitely hadn't called for it, but she used the opportunity to place her hand on his expansive chest, as if for support.
I rolled my eyes with a scoff, furious with the way Mikhail's pleased grin only widened. I wasn't jealous, definitely not, but it was enough for him to think I was.
Maybe she was forced to do this.
I wouldn't put it past Mogilevich, who surely expected this kind of behaviour from all women under his control. We were in his jet, after all, with his flight crew.
Then again, she had initiated this herself after offering us glasses of champagne.
I watched her greedy hand slowly travel down his torso, my eyes widening when I realised its destination. Mikhail shifted on his seat, as if giving her touch a go-ahead and more room.
I gaped at what was about to happen right in front of me.
Before her manicured and slender hand could reach the buckle of his belt, the envy of her so easily able to feel the muscles under his dress shirt bubbling within me, he cleared his throat and turned to tell her something.
I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, too shocked to register whatever he had spoken to the stewardess.
She mused out something, complying with his words. Her hand left him as quick as it had first appeared, and I froze when she turned to me with a sultry gaze.
Mikhail relaxed further in his seat to watch my reaction once more, disgustingly gaining pleasure from how uncomfortable I felt.
I reddened when she headed toward me, not knowing which of the two crazy people to stare at now.
She took her time crouching down before me, moving her hips to give the man behind her a show. I glared over at him, before shifting away from her hands that settled themselves on my knees, attempting to part them.
"Absolutely not," I gritted out, but her expression remained seductive and unfazed.
I squeezed my thighs together solely to keep her away from where she had surely been instructed to go to. Mikhail sent me a devilish grin, content on watching this unfold.
What was he expecting?
Some sort of sick sexual act to be performed for him?
I glanced over desperately to find Vinnie staring at the stewardess, as confused as I was, if not more. Ivan hadn't bothered to look, and I gathered once more that this had to be a normal occurrence for him.
"You're disgusting," I fumed, feeling sorry for the woman having to work under such circumstances, "is this what you do with the women working for Mogilevich? Use them as objects?"
His darkened gaze moved over the stewardesses curves, until it settled on my chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. I gripped the armrests of my seat, firmly holding my thighs together while her hands began carefully moving over them. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under right now.
"You act as if I pushed her on to you," he chuckled lowly, strong hand moving over the stubble along his chin and jaw, greatly enjoying the show, "kukolka, she said she's never seen a woman as beautiful."
"Excuse me?" I stuttered over my words, blushing furiously as her hands neared my hips.
Neither moved their focused sights from me, but my narrowed glare remained solely on the man opposite.
"What did you think?" he taunted, grinning at my furthered shock and inability to move, "she wants to be with you. I told her she could try."
My widened eyes snapped to the woman inching closer and closer to me, her ample bosom brushing against my knees while she offered me a soft and genuine smile.
Mikhail was serious. She was serious.
My mouth ran dry, realising then I had been envious of her closeness to the devil of a man without reason, all the while she had been requesting to be able to hit on me.
How unprofessional of the both of us.
"There's room in the back," she hinted, her smile widening as she mistook my increasing shock for reciprocated interest.
"No, thank you," I blurted out with a shake of my head, "sorry."
"Are you sure?" her smile faltered and hands seized, speaking now only for me to hear.
She had a faint Mediterranean accent, her voice deep and sexy. I wondered how she had ended up here.
I bit back my continued refusal, now actually thinking the proposal over. She really was quite beautiful, and her interest in me was incredibly flattering. I doubted this was a trap or held anything but her genuine feelings.
As much as I regretted it now, I wasn't attracted to women. Instead, I concluded, I could use this opportunity to my advantage. And also find out if she was truly in any way related to Angelina Jolie.
"Let's go," I returned her smile with newfound confidence, from the corner of my eye watching Mikhail's pleased grin fade at my surprising decision.
I held my smile from widening victoriously, my hastily drafted plan already heading in the direction I wished it to.
He didn't like to share.
The stewardess raised herself up and extended her hand for me. I accepted it and stood up after her, the space between us rather nonexistent. She was much taller than me, like a model.
Just as I expected her to lead me to the second compartment of the jet behind the milky glass door, she leaned in to press her lips against mine. I tensed up, not having expected it or wanted it, for that matter.
Everything fell silent and I could sense all three of the men staring at us.
I felt regret for acting in such a way with Vinnie around, as he had never seen the side of me that Mikhail summoned.
I had always been competitive and spiteful, but this was reaching new extents.
I remained frozen to the floor, heart and mind racing, before Angelina Jolie's hands gently grabbed my hips and pulled me against her perfectly sculpted front. I wondered how much she worked out in between these flights.
Despite the beautiful woman kissing me, savouring the feel of my lips so gently it would crack even the toughest men, my body gave me zilch. No heat, no electricity, no nothing. I grumbled underneath my breath.
Had Mikhail already broken me, as he had promised to do several times? Intoxicated me to a point where, even now, all I could think about was him? It was absurd, but the thought stuck.
I ended the kiss and found her hands on my hips, carefully prying them away without letting them go. Her blue eyes with specs of green sparkled beautifully, her smile truly genuine. For a fraction of a second I felt bad for going along with this for personal gain.
Once more I returned her smile and graciously accepted her initiative to guide me toward a more private setting.
Vinnie muttered out something in disdain of my actions, and I itched to tell him just how little I cared for his opinion after he had ever so kindly informed me of his lack of respect and trust a few nights prior. His words had cut deep, deeper than I could ever admit, because they had come from one of the only people I did fully trust and respect. Not disclosing minor details of my dalliance with an enemy meant a lot to him, but I viewed it differently and with less pent-up emotion.
With the press of a button the milky door slid open, and I could still feel Mikhail's burning gaze piercing my skin.
Angelina Jolie caught glimpses of me past her shoulder, making sure I was still following her despite the feel of my hands in hers. It definitely didn't seem as if she was doing this as a part of her job description.
The second compartment of the jet was more spacious, with the comfortable seats replaced by loungers and couches of the same beige leather.
Once the door slid shut behind us, she guided me to one of the couches in silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the engine as we neared Brussels.
"Listen, I-" I began with an awkward laugh, but my words faded when she turned to kiss me again.
This time I didn't return the act of affection, and instead offered her hooded gaze a tightlipped smile.
"You're beautiful, but I'm not interested in women... in that way..." I tried to explain, still holding her soft hands. She studied me curiously, still very close.
"Are you here against your will?" I decided to inquire.
Her smile widened, "I am, yes."
My brows pulled down with confusion at her lighthearted tone.
"Do they force you to do this?" I held her hands tighter, protective over such matters. A bright laugh slipped past her lips and she shook her head.
"No, no," she assured me, "are you sure you're not into this, even a little?"
"I'm not," I snapped, much ruder than I had planned as my aim now became getting the woman to safety instead of toying with the giant Slav outside, "I'm going to help you leave, alright?"
She peered down at me, inching closer despite the lack of space between our fronts.
"I don't want to leave, principessa."
I forced my hands away from hers, disturbed by the mismatch her words and attitude held together.
"Peter always sends me here when that bitch Silvianna wants to hang off his arm," she explained, the sudden crude language taking me aback, "jokes on him, I've fucked his wife."
My expression fell and I gaped at her. She laughed.
Peter, as in Peter Mogilevich?
"Mogilevich? You're one of his..." I began shaking my head slowly, disbelieving of who I had come in to contact with and who of all people had made an advance on me.
I had kissed the lips that had kissed his, and surely worse, and just the thought of it made me sick to my stomach.
"Mistresses, sì," she mused without a care, "he knows I'd rip her extensions out if I ever saw her. I have a bad temper."
"Oh, God..." I breathed out, speechless and trying desperately to wrap my head around this, "you don't want to leave?"
"He'll be done with her in a few days, he always is," she brushed the matter away, "you're sweet to care."
"What's your name?" I should use the revelation of her identity to my advantage, but was once more reminded of how incompetent I was with planning far ahead.
"Maria," she told me, remaining amused by the shock that coursed through my body.
The door behind us slid open.
"Out," his rough tone ordered.
With a discreet wink and a quick kiss to the side of my lips, Maria unwillingly pulled herself away from me and strutted past, leaving the compartment.
I turned to watch as she sidestepped Mikhail, whose furious eyes were directed at me.
"What is it?" I snapped, very aware of how confused I still was and the lack of conviction it left me with. The quick plan I had decided on before had left my mind completely.
The door slid shut after her, leaving Mikhail and I alone. If he had planned this, he wouldn't have been so surprised when I'd gone along with Maria and so angry now that his plan had worked.
Instead of replying he neared me dangerously, discarding the coat of his suit over one of the couches. I folded my arms over my chest and returned his challenging glare, forcing myself to stand my ground despite truly intimidated by him in that moment.
"I don't share," he reminded me lowly, footsteps slowing and expecting me to either retreat or distance myself from him. I didn't.
Instead, I scoffed out a laugh at his possessive words.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I appreciate beautiful women from a distance," I informed him matter of factly, before tilting my head with a smug smile, "you say I can't succeed without a plan, yet here I am with the exact result I wanted."
His heated gaze darkened, burning in to me and rendering me quiet.
"And what is it that you wanted, Natalia?" he gruffed out and my smile faded away, as apparently had all common sense. When he unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt and roughly rolled up his sleeves with promise, my knees grew weak.
You, you idiot, I thought to myself. Unforgiving, rough and all alone with me.
I would never say such cravings aloud, but my God, did they arouse me to the brink of insanity.
He reached me and painfully grabbed the back of my neck, tilting my flushed face up toward his.
"Speak," he commanded menacingly, and my thighs clenched together involuntarily, shameful to be soaked from just a few of his infuriated words.
The hurt from his ferocious grip on me morphed into ceaseless, liquid and hot pleasure, which then flooded each vein and lit up every nerve.
I couldn't so much as utter a word, pulsing for him and his touch. I felt pathetic, especially now that Vinnie was on the other side of the milky glass door, but my excitement and the sound of the engine trumped such thoughts.
"What did you want to show me?" I breathed out absentmindedly, gaze flickering down to his delicious lips.
They were so close.
Finally I had rendered him without a plan, without anything to fall back on to. The lack of his dear discipline left him fierce, brutal and enraged. He hadn't been expecting this, and it was his turn to be left speechless.
The victory and pride I should have felt now was pushed to the far end of my consciousness, overcome with feral need.
Without time to react, I was unsympathetically and with ease shoved down on to the couch behind me. My heart raced, surrendered to silently watch as the dangerous man neared me again.
My breathing grew increasingly more laborious as he then kneeled before me.
The sight of such a man in this position for me sent an unapologetic wave of torturous arousal over my uncontrolled body.
Without another word and darkened gaze threateningly challenging for me to say or do anything, he reached for the waistband of my jeans. My lips parted, knowing I should object, but not wanting to.
He violently forced them down my hips, pulling me along with them with an inaudible yelp. His savage stare silenced me, before it hungrily focused on the bare skin he revealed.
He easily managed to rid me of the piece of clothing without so much as a fight, and proceeded to stare at my clothed vagina.
I had to squeeze my thighs shut, not because I burned with humiliation of how wet I was or because I didn't want this to happen, but because I could hardly handle the pulsating and increasing need I felt between them.
He had barely touched me and I was already panting.
Mikhail's rough gaze hardened at the glimpse of how aroused I was. He surely thought it was because of Maria, but I hadn't it in me to start correcting the assumption.
He cursed lowly underneath his ragged breath, and forced my thighs to part painfully.
With half my torso up against the backrest of the couch and the rest uncomfortably laying down, my behind close to handing off it, I undividedly focused my attention on his large hands on the insides of my thighs, his touch burning against the sensitive skin.
"Please," I desperately pleaded, thinking my quiet voice had been left unregistered by him until the flimsy material of my panties were ripped apart with one simple tug.
I was left bare for his hungry eyes, and the pleased groan that then left his lips sent another wave of hot liquid arousal down my body.
"Tell me what you want, kukolka," his impossibly lowered tone had each of my muscles relaxing, the beautiful sound vibrating through me.
He forced his heated gaze away from my seeping cunt to meet mine, and I melted completely.
"You," I gave in, "I want you."
The final syllable of my cry morphed in to a high pitched moan. He had wasted no time in diving in, sinful tongue torturously swiping between my folds to find my pulsing clit. My head threw itself back at the overwhelming bliss and pure relief.
My heart pounded against my chest and I struggled to draw in a full breath.
I wanted to watch him, the sight of him kneeling between my thighs too beautiful to pass along, but once he parted my thighs further and lips wrapped around my clit, my eyes fluttered closed.
My hands unconsciously reached to grab at his hair, desperately needing to hold on to something.
He grunted out, strong arms wrapping around my thighs to tug me closer, to bury himself in my heat. Mikhail was ravenous and served now with a full course dinner. That's what it felt like.
"The next time you so much as look at another," he promised hotly, "I'll have them watch as I fuck myself into you."
His absurd and possessive words went in one ear and our the other.
I screamed out brokenly when he thrust two of his fingers inside me without warning, removing the possibility of my reply incase I had been capable before of giving him one.
"Yes, yes, yes," I moaned out obliviously, submerged in the building tension in the pit of my stomach with each skilled lap of his tongue, suckle of his lips, and brutal assault of his fingers between my clenching walls.
My grip on his hair tightened, only encouraging him further with a pleasured groan.
No sane man would manhandle me and act in such a way unless as aroused and hungry for me as I was for him.
His fingers withdrew from my insides and were replaced with his tongue, of all things. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to lift myself up to view the lewd act. His hold on me was too strong and prevented me from moving, but I desperately managed to lift myself up enough to see how he lapped up the juices earnestly flowing for him.
"The world would be a much better place if all women had cunts like yours," he decided gruffly, unceasingly thrusting in to me with his eager tongue, "so sweet."
I tugged at his hair, desperate to have his lips back on my clit once more.
I had never received oral sex, but could confidently conclude that if this were to be anyone other than Mikhail, it wouldn't be nearly as good.
His impossibly darkened eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I completely lost it. I fell back down to half lay and sit on the couch, begging myself not to come just yet. I had to feel this for as long as I could, savour each lick, suck and touch.
"Please," I begged breathlessly, moaning out with relief when he did exactly as I needed him to.
The moment his lips wrapped around my clit and tongue joined in to flick over it, I came undone.
My back arched impossibly, grip on his hair tightened to hold him in place, breathless repeats of his name slipping my lips.
Hot bliss hit me with the ferocity of a lightning, jolting to each corner of my trembling body.
He only lapped his tongue over me harder, grunting with pleasure as he thrust his fingers back inside me to feel me clench and unclench around them, pulsing with liquid pleasure.
"Mikhail," I shook, the torturous attack of his tongue quickly growing unbearable on my sensitive clit, but I wasn't strong enough to move myself away from it.
I felt so tiny and vulnerable in his hold, gasping for breath.
When he finally ended the beautiful assault, I stared down at him as if I couldn't believe what had just happened.
The first time I received oral was from the one person I definitely shouldn't have, but it had been Heaven.
In one swift motion he lifted my limp and tingling body to sit on the couch, the remnants of my unceasing arousal and orgasm trailing down on to it.
He lifted himself up and kissed me vehemently, ending my attempts of gathering myself and jumbled mind.
"Good?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He sat his large frame down beside me, unfazed by my uncovered lower half. My jeans were haphazardly thrown on the wide aisle and my torn panties rested on the floor by the couch. I raised my knees up to my chest, still catching my breath as I stared at the loungers opposite us.
I swallowed audibly, searching my mind for something to say. Silence fell over us and to make it worse, it was comfortable.
I should and would not let myself get comfortable with an enemy. It was wrong. Distracting.
From the corner of my eye I saw the impressive bulge in his pants. I flushed red.
Was he expecting me to do something about it?
Was it really that wrong if I wanted to?
I forced my thoughts to the back of my mind alongside other recently satisfied cravings.
Mikhail's strong arm brushed against mine, and I actually felt like leaning against him. I needed to slap myself, but for the time being remained too soft and relaxed to do much.
I was growing antsy for either of us to speak. He seemed content just observing me, and it was infuriating.
"Do you press mute on yourself after eating someone out?" I laughed quietly, holding my knees to my chest tightly.
"Does silence make you uncomfortable?"
No, I wanted to tell him, being with you without naturally plotting your murder or needing to rip your head off makes me uncomfortable.
"No." My stubbornness beat me to it.