A Pole and a Gun

17 - The prayer

♤ DIMITRI

Being buried balls deep inside of Trixie is giving me a feeling of coming home. Her walls clench around me as she comes a second time. A soft blush stains her cheeks as I pummel into her, feeling her warm and tight cunt grip me like a vise. Trixie holds her own perfectly against me and understands my desires. She doesn't mind my rougher edge. I even think it makes her more wet for me.

I wanted to stay away, but the chemistry sparked as we still rode the fumes of the adrenaline pumping through our veins after the car chase.

After reaching my peak, we are both panting in each other's arms, catching our breath after the hottest car sex I've ever had.

The sexual tension between us has been building since her arrival. It's not only her body that drives me insane, it's the way she sways her hips and the pouty mouth when she sucks the tip of her thumb has me in a continuous state of half mast. Her mind has me intrigued. The way she handles herself in the whirlwind that is my life is admirable.

An errant image passes through my hazy, post fucked brain; maybe she is the strong woman the heir to the Russian cartel needs. I shake it away. I can't be drifting away to her toned physique and curves when we have work to do.

Speaking of, we are late for Babushka's Sunday brunch. I lift Trixie by the hips, giving her a pat on her perfectly round, bouncy ass. She moves over to the passenger seat and I get rid of the condom.

I hear her sigh as she rests against the leather seat and she pulls her dress down as I zip up. Noticing the shiver that passes through her when she spots the smashed up side mirror, I leave my hand on her warm thigh.

I've never wanted to comfort a woman before she walked into my life by chance, in the same way I had never claimed one before. I meant what I said. She is mine now.

After we fix our clothes, I fire the engine and weave us back into traffic. I can't control the urge to glance at the woman beside me, redoing her ponytail and wiping the run out mascara from under her eyes. The way she moves her mouth as she paints on a thin layer of gloss and smacks her lips together has me stirring again.

I concentrate back on the road, readjusting myself in my seat. A notion that doesn't escape Trixie's gaze as she licks her lips lasciviously. I groan and she grins. Fucking minx.

We pull up to Babushka's estate. On the outskirts of Vegas, she has a green oasis all to herself. When my grandad died and left the business to my father, Andreas Bendorova, my grandma retired. She still has her finger in the sauce, as she wants to be on top of the finances and I let her, because she's fucking good at it.

Trixie gasps from beside me, looking up to the fancy automatic gates opening slowly as I pull up. We drive to the door and I see Joseph already waiting.

"Master Dimitri," he greets, "What happened to the car?"

As I get out, I check the damage. Apart from Trixie's side, the taillights are smashed out, and the trunk looks similar to a European cheese. One bullet is lodged in the license plate and I bend down to pick it out. I pocket the evidence and sigh deeply at the state of the convertible. We were lucky.

Joseph rounds the car and opens the door for Trixie, offering his hand graciously.

"Hello, I'm Trixie," she introduces herself. The earlier fright from her voice disappears.

"Joseph."

He tips his head and motions to follow him. Pacing around the front of the car so the lady won't see the rest of the damage.

We walk into the grand foyer and I hear the clacking of Babushka's orthopedic shoes and cane as she walks toward us.

"Ver vere you?" she seethes through her teeth, motioning with her cane between us two. "You are late!"

"We were held up," I give her a hug as she eyes me up suspiciously.

"I know," she whispers in my ear, "Nox called, said you vere delayed taking another route," she dislodges from my neck and speaks up loudly, turning to Trixie. "Entertained by zis beautiful woman. Your grandfather couldn't hold himself back either, ze apple doesn't fall far from ze tree." Trixie turns beet red, but Babushka doesn't relent. "I vas slammed into a dark corner or two back in ze day."

She wriggles her brows as Joseph coughs, just in time for other family members to arrive in the foyer.

"Dimitri has brought female company this time," aunt Malayna tuts, holding on to her long fancy cigarette and a glass of vodka. She sways her way over to us, taking Trixie in from head to toe.

It would push me to booze too, being married to the ogre that Luwkuntz is. Her son is a swine, but thankfully she has nothing to do with that.

Taking Trixie's hand to lay it over my arm, I guide us towards the sunroom, Babushka's preferred brunch place in the house. She is holding herself together well and apart from the car, there's no evidence of what we had just been doing. I may have to say goodbye to the convertible and purchase a new one, but I'll have some fond memories of Trixie bouncing on my cock. I don't think my insurance covers bullet holes.

I need to think of a plan fast so my family members don't know what Trixie is really doing with me. I look into her eyes and see her chewing on her lower lip; she is nervous.

"Follow my lead," I whisper into her ear, and I tip up her chin to meet my gaze. She nods and holds on tighter to my arm, knowing the performance she has to give my family.

I pull back her seat so she can sit at the table and press a soft kiss to her temple. The rest of the Bendorova family widens their eyes, while aunt Malayna takes a drag of her cigarette, studying me.

Babushka is waiting for me at the door and I join her, leaving Trixie with the Bendorova's. I know Trixie will be able to handle herself, and the ones at the table wouldn't overstep without my presence.

Once the door is closed behind me, Babushka fires a rapid succession of questions. When we are both certain of the man behind the truck that followed us, I know I have an ally in my grandmother.

"He is a coward," Babushka seethes, tapping wildly with her cane around her.