A Silent Reckoning: Sinner's Empire by Nikita Slater (ereader iphone .txt) 📗

She had no choice. It was either open her mouth or allow him to cut her lips against her teeth. He didn’t care which she chose. He’d fuck her mouth even if it was filled with blood. More lubrication.

She opened and he pressed both of his thumbs inside, stretching her cheeks and pressing his digits to the back of her throat until she gagged, making a hoarse choking sound.

Nikolay laughed out loud. She looked and sounded ridiculous. A far cry from the sultry woman who was playing ‘dirty dancing’ on the club floor earlier in the evening. It hadn’t been hard to convince her to come upstairs with them. She’d pretended she wasn’t sure about being double-teamed, but it had taken only minutes to get her clothes off.

They’d been polite to start, using a vibrator to get her off and get her wet enough for what they had planned. They’d each taken turns after that, taking her vaginally before taking turns at her ass.

Now that she was good and broken in from a few hours of hard fucking, the real play could begin. They’d work their way toward fucking her at the same time, Halil in front and Nikolay in behind. It was their favourite position. The screams of their women, like music, echoing through the bedroom.

She would walk away full of cum, a little pain and utterly satisfied.

But first, Nikolay wanted her mouth, and he wanted it while Halil took her ass. His second favourite threesome position was the spit, where he and Halil each took an end and forced her body to rock and back and forth between them, the momentum carrying them all toward orgasm.

When he’d finished choking her with his thumbs, he replaced them with his now rock-hard cock, slamming himself deep into her mouth before she could take her next breath. She gagged again, her throat closing around his cock in a nice squeeze that made him groan.

She tried to pull back, but he gripped her long blond hair and held her steady, forcing her to gag on him, her throat doing all the work. When her eyes rolled up with desperation, the tears now falling freely, he pulled back, allowing her to breath.

She gulped in a lungful of air as saliva spilled from her mouth. She glared at him and opened her mouth, probably to tell him not to do it again, but he didn’t let her get the words out, shoving himself back in and then pounding her mouth, finding a rhythm that worked for both him and Halil.

He hadn’t bothered to wash his dick after putting it in her ass. He loved the disgusted look on women’s faces when he did that. Maybe they hated him for it, but he didn’t care. They would walk away satisfied and most came back for more.

He grunted as his balls tightened.

“I’m close,” he told Halil.

Halil nodded. “Me too.”

They used Giselle, holding her up between them when she would have collapsed onto the mattress, Halil’s arm under her waist as he fucked her ass, while Nikolay continued to hold her head between his hands, forcing her to take every inch of his cock.

The orgasm ripped through him and he pulled out of her mouth, taking his cock in hand and pumping until jets of semen burst from the tip, spraying her across the face. He grinned as she took a load in her eye and hair. She would hate that. Giselle didn’t like it when they messed her up.

Halil followed suit, pulling out of her ass and spraying his load across her back. Giselle fell to the bed in an exhausted, but satisfied heap. Halil dropped onto her other side, grinning at the ceiling.

Nikolay lay sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his head. He wished his joint was closer; he could use another hit.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Krystoff hated hospitals. More than the average gangster hated them. He despised the smell, the arrogant bustling of doctors and nurses, the pathetic patients coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. He avoided them to the point of absurdity, once electing to pay a steep price to have a surgery in the comfort of his own home.

None of these things were in his mind as he rushed through the doors of the Prague General University Hospital. He only had one thought in his head: Dasha. His wife had been transported by ambulance to the hospital, her life hanging in the balance. He still didn’t have positive confirmation of her survival.

His understanding from a frantic call made by the maître d’ of his restaurant, was that Dasha had been attacked in the washroom and left for dead. He’d confirmed that she was brought to the hospital and immediately rushed out to his car. He drove himself, not wanting to wait on his men to organize themselves.

His heart was in his throat as he approached the hospital receptionist. “I’m here for Dasha Koba.”

The nurse’s head came up and she stared at him as though he was a ghost and she was struck speechless by his apparition. He was impatient, but not surprised. His family was well known in Prague, as were their shady underworld ties. Most people had heard of him and knew what he looked like from news articles, even if they hadn’t met him.

“I’m… I’m… I’ll check,” the nurse finally choked out, refocusing on the screen in front of her.

“Mr. Koba, sir.”

Krystoff turned, his hand going under his jacket until he saw his wife’s bodyguard, Rassoul, standing behind him. The man’s expression was both bleak and guilty. Rage and fear hit Krystoff with such surprising force he had to grip the counter so his knees wouldn’t buckle, sending him to the floor.

He’d spent a lifetime projecting an image of complete calm and control, but when it came to his wife, nothing mattered. He didn’t care about his legendary control, couldn’t care, until he knew she was safe.

“Where the fuck is she?” Krystoff snarled, carefully taking his hand