Page 59 of Bedazzled
Getting out of bed was trickier than I expected. My thighs were on fire, and my girl parts felt red and swollen. Not that I was complaining, but… if that man keeps pounding me like he did last night, I was going to develop some kind of sex-related disability.
Finally, out of bed and limping toward the bathroom, I overheard Yuri, talking to Maksim, I thought.
“There’s something off about O’Rourke’s interest in Tania.”
“Yes, I know he enjoys playing the game, but why would he seek her out last night? I know my wife has a way of bringing a man to his knees before he knows what hit him, but he offered her more information in a five-minute chat than we have gotten out of him in the last two months…
“I know the news is extremely helpful. But I don’t like Tania being drawn into this…” He walked out of the dressing room, buttoning his dress shirt. Seeing him casually perform a minor task that had taken him an endless amount of effort and considerable pain after being kidnapped made me want to sing with joy. Or jump his bones. He had come so far.
He looked up from his shirt, giving me a filthy smile as he stared at me. Which was when I remembered I was naked.
“Brother, I must go. Something has just come up.” Yuri dropped his phone on a chair and backed me up against the bed.
“No, no no no!” I was laughing too hard to sound serious, but when he threw me on my back and spread my legs, my laughter choked off into a groan. “Yuri baby, I am so sore!”
He was running his thumbs up and down my pussy, spreading my lips gently. “I have some numbing cream.”
Then he put his mouth on me and it was much better than numbing cream.
“Maybe I’m not so sore…” I said, staring blissfully up at the ceiling.
Much later…
“So, what did you and Maksim deduce from O’Rourke’s weird info dump last night?”
I was slumped against Yuri’s broad chest, sitting on the blue tile bench in his shower, which was big enough to clean him and maybe twenty-seven of his friends at the same time. I was already emotionally attached to the rainfall showerhead currently cascading over us and was considering moving a fridge and my laptop in here and never leaving again.
His hand, which was currently spreading body wash over my breasts - for the fifth time - paused for a moment. “You have never asked about the family business before.”
“True, but it wasn’t my family then and didn’t have weird billionaires turning up and sharing random information with me,” I pointed out, and he nodded reluctantly. “Also, you have been washing my right breast long enough that the left one is getting jealous.”
He gave me his filthiest grin. “Then I must rectify the situation.”
Yuri’s lips fastened onto my nipple - the left one - and the strength left my legs. “D- don’t think this gets you out of explaining,” I wheezed.
The sun is slanting low over the master bedroom when my insatiable husband and I woke up. We were on the floor in front of the fireplace and I was lying on top of him, his cock was still in me.
Yuri puts his arm behind his head, looking up at the lengthening shadows on the ceiling. “The O’Connell mob bought the most prestigious whiskey distillery in Dublin. The clan wants it to look like a bid to gain legitimacy as a reputable business, but it’s a front for a huge money-laundering system. They can make millions from other crime families.”
“Other mobsters will let those mobsters launder their money?” I asked, perplexed, “That seems like it would involve a lot of trust.”
He shrugged, “It is all solid numbers, what goes in, what goes out. The real problem is this gives the O’Connell Mafia a place at the table, so to speak.”
“How so?”
“Filtering hundreds of millions of dollars for other families means developing a relationship with them. Then, an alliance. The more families that choose to ally with the O’Connell mob, the more dangerous they become.” While Yuri’s expression was blank, the scar on his face throbbed an angry red.
“I hate those fuckers,” I said bitterly. “There has to be a way to knock them down.” Lifting myself off my husband with a groan as his cock slipped from me, I sat up with my back against a chair. “How does this circle round to O’Rourke and what he said last night?”
He frowned, “He made it clear that he’s doing business with the O’Connell’s, but not allied with them.”
“Part of my position at Papachristodoulopoulos was vetting potential investors,” I said, “O’Rourke came up squeaky clean. Rich as hell, which means he isn’t; because no one has that much money without getting his hands dirty. But he’s definitely not a mobster. So, what kind of business is he doing with them?”
“O’Rourke is at an Oligarch-level of wealth,” he said, “it could be anything. But what is most useful is the last thing he said to you.”
“That he’s always wanted to be a master distiller?” I asked. “So… is this a hint that he wants to take over their business? And since he’s sharing it with us, is he hinting that he wants your involvement? And if so, why doesn’t this asshole justsayit?”
Yuri gave me a look that wassoRussian. World-weary, cynical, stoic. “Because he enjoys his games. Because once one has amassed that level of wealth and power, playing with the lives of men is the only game left to play.”
