“It’s over, angel. That was Boris, the head of the family. There’ll be another boss to take his place back in Russia, but with him dead, the feud dies too. I’m done, and anyone who takes his place will know that too.”
I turned as Braun came over to wrap his arms around Katrina, holding her tight to his chest as he buried his face in her long blonde hair. He glanced up, and our eyes met.
“I’m sorry,” I growled. “For all of this.”
He glared at me, his lips curling into a snarl. But Katrina’s hand on his chest calmed him, and slowly, he took a breath.
“Are there more Russian fucking mobsters coming?”
“No. And there won’t ever be.”
He nodded, mulling that over for a second. He glanced at his fiancée, taking another deep breath. “Then we’re okay. You owe me a fucking wall though.”
“I owe you my life, actually,” I said quietly.
“What do you know about framing a house?”
Slowly, I grinned, and he did the same.
“More than you’d imagine.”
“Good, you’re hired. Oh, you’re working for free by the way.”
I chuckled, squeezing Chloe to me.
“It’s a deal.”
Chapter 14
Vlad
Hours later, we both sighed as we settled into the deep tub in the master bathroom. We’d stayed to help Braun and Katrina put up a temporary wall where the hole was. I’d taken the fuckers who’d attacked us deep in the woods and buried them, which was more than they deserved. Within the week, a few of the men who’d helped build my lodge would be coming up to help patch up Braun’s place. I knew he was proud to do all the work himself, but I knew he’d see the logic in a little help.
The lights were low, and we both sipped the vodka over ice in our glasses, letting the chaos of the day seep out of us.
“So, it’s really over.”
She looked up at me, biting her lip.
“Right?”
“It is,” I said quietly, kissing her softly. “With Boris gone, the threat is gone. They won’t be coming for me, or for you.”
She nodded.
“So I guess this means I’m free to go, huh?”
I knew she was kidding, especially with that impish grin on her face. But still, it struck something in me.
“The danger is gone, but,” I shook my head. “But I plan on staying here, up on Blackthorn. The rest of the world is an ugly place, or maybe it’s just that I’ve seen too much ugliness in it. Maybe I’ve caused too much ugliness. Either way, I’ve made this place my home, and…” I sighed. “I can’t leave it.”
“I know,” Chloe said quietly, lacing her fingers into mine.
“I can’t ask you to just stay up on this mountain, angel,” I growled. “You have a whole life out there—”
“No I don’t,” she said quietly
“Angel—”
“I have one here,” she whispered, turning in my arms and placing her hands on my chest. “My life is here, with you, and with all the beauty of this place.”
She whimpered as I pulled her into my lap, kissing her hungrily as her legs spread around my hips.
“Stay with me,” I growled. “Stay with me forever, and be mine. Be my wife, be my queen, and we’ll make this place our kingdom away from it all.”
“I love you,” she whispered, gasping as she felt my throbbing cock head ease against her entrance under the water.
“I love you too, angel,” I purred, stroking my cock against her slick opening and letting the swollen head push inside. I growled, feeling her velvety smooth pussy open for me — stretching around my girth as she slowly sank back onto me. Chloe moaned deeply, throwing her arms around my neck as she took every inch of me inside, until my heavy balls were resting on her ass.
I kissed her slowly, flexing my cock and letting her feel me throb deep inside of her, where I belonged, always.
“When I say forever, angel,” I growled into her lips. “I mean it.”
“So do I,” she gasped, rising up slowly, her slick, tight cunt gripping me like a velvet vice before she took me back inside.
I groaned, grabbing her ass and grinding deep into her before I slid her up, only to thrust back inside. She cried out, throwing her head back and raking her nails down my back as I started to bounce her up and down every inch of me, making her tight little body shiver with pleasure.
“Stay here, and be mine,” I purred. “Make this house a home with me, and we’ll fill it with our children.”
She moaned, clenching tight around me as she started to ride me faster and faster. I dipped my head down, wrapping my lips around one of her soft pink nipples and teasing it with my tongue as she rode my cock like a good girl.
“Yes!” she cried out, riding me faster, and harder, taking me so deep on every thrust until I knew both of us were going to explode soon. I could feel the cum boiling in my balls, ready to fill her womb with my seed, and I knew I’d feel that tight little pussy come all over my cock any second.
“Marry me, Chloe,” I growled into her lips, pulling back to level my eyes at her. My hands gripped her ass, pulling her up and down my cock, watching her face slowly crumble as the climax threatened to explode through her.
“Marry me, angel.”
“Yes!” she screamed, mashing her lips to mine and kissing me fiercely as her body bounced up and down my cock. “Yes yes YES!”
I drove deep inside of her, making her scream again as her clit ground into the base of me.
“But first,” I growled, my hands holding her ass so tight as I ground my cock as deep as I could inside of her.
“First you have to be a good girl and come for me. Come for me, angel.”
Her entire body shuddered as the orgasm thundered through her, and I swallowed her final scream of pleasure as her pussy clamped down tight around me. She moaned into my kiss, rocking her hips hard against me as the climax exploded through her.
And it was all I could take.
I growled, driving balls-deep into her sweet little cunt and exploding deep inside of her. I roared, feeling the cum pulsing from my balls, out through my thick, throbbing cock, and splashing against her womb. The both of us crashed together, bodies writhing against each other as spurt after thick, hot spurt of my cum filled her to the brim.
Marking her.
Claiming her.
Capturing her.
“Yours,” she whispered, kissing me softly as we sank into the steamy water and looked out over the moon-lit mountains.
“Still thinking about running away from me?” I grinned, kissing her slowly.
Chloe bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she winked at me.
“Only if you chase me.”
“Always, angel.”
Epilogue
Chloe
If you didn’t already guess it somehow, yes, of course I stayed. And really, it was the easiest decision I’d ever made.
There wasn’t anything for me in the life I’d known before him and before Blackthorn Mountain. What, a job I barely liked, in a city I barely knew, with friends that were barely more than acquaintances? No, the life I found up there on Blackthorn with my mountain man was the life I’d always been looking for, even if I never knew it.
We wondered for a long time how it was that Boris had found us — part curiosity and part Vlad wanting to make sure he could actually trust the people he’d been trusting for the last few years with his anonymity. But, after some digging, it turns out Boris was just that driven to find him. No one had turned, or squealed, or been bought, Boris had just bought an investigate team that took two years to track Vlad down through his convoluted paper trail of fake names and corporations.
Vlad was right — with Boris gone, the danger went away. We did actually eventually hear from his old bratva. Another lieutenant had been promoted to boss by the larger organization, and he personally reached out to Vlad. As it turned out, the higher-ups in the Russian mob had been loo
king for a way to remove Boris for some time now, and really, Vlad had ended up doing them a favor. His decision to leave the organization, however rare and however usually denied, was approved.
It was over.
The man I’d fallen in love with still loved his privacy and the isolation of the big lodge up on Coffer’s Peak, and so did I. But with the danger of being discovered gone, we at least had a bit more freedom for things — things like a phone, an internet connection, and even some rare trips into civilization.
…Hey, I couldn’t keep borrowing Katrina’s clothes forever, even if she did have great taste.
While they’d never been much more than cordial neighbors before, Vlad and Braun grew closer after that day with the Russians. Which is great, because it wasn’t long before Katrina and I were the best of friends. It’d come later, after their wedding, and after ours, and after Austin and Dallas found their own happy ending — a story for another time — but Katrina did end up opening that school she’d been talking about. And I was right there to help her do it.
She’d been right — there were plenty of rural families living out in the country near Blackthorn who needed a good, local school for their kids, and ours was just the place.
And so that was my new life — up on top of the mountain with the man I loved. The wedding came later, after Katrina and Braun’s. And the children came later too. After all, we did have a lot of house to fill. But in the meantime, we had each other. Remember that whole thing before where I didn’t have any clothes?
…Well, even when I got some, we ended up spending most of our time without them.
Vlad made sure to tell me how much he loved me every single day, and I never let him forget how much I loved him. I hadn’t come looking for this life, but damn was I glad I’d fallen into it. I had the most amazing, loving, incredible husband a girl could ask for, he had me, and we both had peace.
Love, happiness, peace, and a sex life so amazing it was a good thing our nearest neighbors were miles away.
…There’s a real great chance they still heard us though.
The End.
Sneak Peek: Claiming His Mountain Bride
My mountain. My cabin. My rules. And she’s my woman – she just doesn’t know it yet.
I left civilization and my demons a long time ago, seeking solitude up on Blackthorn Mountain. Just one ex-Marine, a remote cabin, and the wilderness, with no distractions.
But then she turns up, blowing in with a winter’s blizzard like a very fucking big distraction.
Blonde, beautiful, and mouthy as all hell, even when I save her from freezing that sweet little ass off.
A rough mountain man like me should want nothing to do with a rich little city girl like Katrina. Except one look at her sweet, tempting curves, and one taste of those sassy, pouty lips, and I want everything to do with her.
I saved her from freezing, but maybe it’s her who’s going to save my frozen heart.
We’re trapped up here for the storm, locked in a cabin with only the heat between us to keep us warm. Her wealthy, city family thinks they can marry her off to some rich little shit. But they’re very wrong.
My mountain. My cabin. My woman.
I’ll make Katrina my bride, and I’ll be damned if I let them take her from me.
Heads up - I’ve gone totally off the rails with this one. This book is pure, unfiltered, growly-alpha-claims-his-woman smut at it’s finest. It’s sweet, it’s filthy, and it’s completely ridiculous. You’re probably going to love it ;). Safe, no cheating, and HEA guaranteed.
Chapter 1
Katrina
The blast of freezing cold wind hit the car like a thunderclap, making me jump. The Land Rover jerked on the icy road, the steering wheel lurching in my white-knuckle grip as I eased on the gas and wrestled back control. I shivered despite the heat cranking inside the vehicle, my eyes narrowed as I tired to peer through the wall of white coming down in sheets across the small mountain road in front of me.
Shit, maybe this was a terrible idea.
But then, I hadn’t known what else to do except run. My gut instinct had been to flee to the only place I knew where I could just escape everything. Of course, I hadn’t exactly expected the snow storm of the century coming down like some sort of biblical plague.
My mind slid back to three hours before, back at the restaurant where Paul, my fiancé had decided to remind me exactly how much of a piece of shit I always knew he was.
“Excuse me?!”
“C’mon, Katrina, calm the fuck down. This doesn’t change anything.”
In a way, he’d been right.
I can’t say I was heartbroken having just been told by my fiancé that he was screwing another woman. Heartbroken would imply that I’d cared enough for Paul to well, be heartbroken. But I hadn’t, so it wasn’t broken. I was pissed the hell off though.
The truth is, I’d never wanted to marry Paul, but in the world I grew up in, things like that don’t matter. Paul and I marrying just “made sense,” as my father Milton put it. After all, the Bartholomew’s were a family just as connected, and stately, and rich, and well, obnoxious and pretentious as mine. Paul’s father was a VP at some huge financial institution, just like mine was. We’d gone to the same level of snooty, snobby private schools, had the same stern-faced, hugely expensive nannies growing up, and had gone to the same calibre of bought-and-paid for ivy league colleges. In the world I grew up in, Paul and I would get married, he’d become VP of some other bank or hedge fund, and I’d sit at home redecorating our mansion on the shore every two months and popping out three perfect little children.
And to some girls, that was the dream. To some people, that was a life worth living.
But to me?
…The thought made my skin crawl.
I hated the idea of being a stepford wife — of being this trophy sitting in some rich, smug asshole’s big pretentious house. And on top of that, I really didn’t like Paul, like, as a person. He was a prick, and rude, and the thought of being physical intimate with him made my stomach heave. But thankfully, it hadn’t come to that yet. See, if I was going to be forced into this bullshit, antiquated arranged marriage thing, well then, I’d do it antiquated all the way. They wanted to force me to marry some jerk like Paul as if we lived in Elizabethan England? Fine, then I‘d pretend I was a woman of the same time, and women of arranged marriages did not sleep with their betrothed until marriage.
Yeah, take that, assholes.
I can tell you, watching the smug look fall from Paul’s face when I told him point blank he wouldn’t be getting any was almost worth the lifetime I’d have to spend with him. But then, apparently, Paul had gone out and gotten a little side piece. And told me about it, in the middle of a three-star restaurant, two minutes before our parents walked in for a dinner where we’d be discussing wedding locations.
“You’re a real piece of work, Paul,” I’d spat out shaking my head and jerking my arm away from him.
“Listen ice-queen, you brought this on yourself. A man had needs, Katrina.”
Again, I wasn’t upset about Paul fucking some other girl — hell, she probably deserved a medal. I’d certainly never done anything with him, but a girl I’d gone to private school with apparently had, and through the rumor mill, I’d heard every gross detail about how small he was and how downright abusive in bed he’d been.
Yeah, no thanks.
So, whoever this side girl was, fuck it, she could have him. I didn’t have feelings for Paul, but I did have pride.
“Sit down,” he’d hissed. “Sit your tight ass down, shut the fuck up, and smile pretty, Katrina.”
My blood boiled.
“Look, our parents are here,” he’d hissed, nodding past me at the door to the restaurant. He’d put a big plastic smile on his face and waved.
“This marriage is happening. It makes sense for our families to be connected. We’ve got good genes, and our children—”
“Not fucking hap
pening,” I’d spit out.
Paul had sneered.
“The wedding is next month, bitch. And after that, you’re going to damn well learn to spread those legs and let me get a piece of what's mine.”
Right then is when something in me snapped. Maybe it was the other girl. Maybe it was him talking to me like I was a piano he was buying for his house. Maybe it was the thought of having sex with him that made the bile rise in my throat.
Whatever it was, suddenly, it all clicked into place.
I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want Paul, I didn’t want that future, and I was not going to just sit there and let it happen.
Horrified gasps erupted around us as I’d hurled the wine from my untouched glass right into Paul’s face. He’d sworn fiercely, staggering to his feet and sputtering.
“You bitch! You fucking—”
“Paul?”
He’d froze.
“Go fuck yourself.”
And then I’d turned and walked away. I’d walked right out of the restaurant, ignoring Paul, and my father bellowing at me to get back there, and my mother echoing the same. I’d almost caught a cab, but instead, with a smug grin, I’d let the valet know that I’d be taking my fiancé’s car.
Dick.
I’d driven the extravagant black and chrome Land Rover back to my apartment, snagging anything that could fit into a small pack and changing into the warmest cold-weather stuff I could find. I’d turned my phone off, jumped back into the SUV, headed out of the city, and driven the two hours straight here, to Blackthorn Mountain.
A blast of frozen winter wind slammed into the car again, making me gasp as the whole thing shuddered sideways on the road.
Yeah, maybe this had been a terrible idea…
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Pretty Dirty