So brief to enjoy. So close to being just imagination. So dim to see clearly.

"There's nobody here, just us together."

Her black coat slid down her arms, and dropped beside her heels. So long for justified jealousy.

His face lit up instead of a mere leer and took off his red gloves. So long for seeing her face in other women.

They were supposed to be in another place, representing Father. Neither remembered which. What mattered stood in front of them both.

She stepped out of the loose garment and pushed him back gently, strong enough to make him sit in the couch behind. His worked-out torso, where her cheek and ear belonged, was near, finally reachable.

Even with her usual calm heart storming out of her chest, she started dancing to the slow rhythm, brushing her fingers through her skin and bra laces.

Her caramel eyes met his green ones. So long for seeing them from afar, always by the Father's left, holding the goddamned sheathed sword. It depicted her status on the Mafia, away from the countless white suited goons, worthless with no gun in their hands.

Away from him too. Love stories and bodyguards only got along in novels and movies.

The weapon now discarded, with the black shades she used to protect her own feelings. Nothing but her was here.

"I told you twice, on our love letter…"

If she were a normal girl with a normal job, would they be here? Would he saw her as he did right now?

She downed both straps of her bra. He curved his lips up and raised his eyebrows, allowing her to continue. As she upped them again, he took off his golden earring and pocketed it into his aquamarine shirt.

Did he mean it? Showing himself as a young man and not the Son of the Russian Mafia?

Warmth escaped through her lips as she turned around. Iaido and Kendo helped her with her dance steps, though the lot of times on many strip clubs with the Father did its part.

The large window behind her did his own setting the mood. The vapor in neon colors, the palm trees, myriad of buildings on Miami Beach past the sea, and a dark purple sky.

Her toned and athletic thighs preluded her round and well-shaped ass, and she knew it. Of course none of his pathetic hookers had it like this.

She did want to feel his hardness on her hand, but no, not now. To hell with meaningless sex.

"Take off, take off… take off all your clothes…"

The lyrics weren't helping. Of course she wished to be naked and riding him.

She sat on the floor and stretched up her legs, moving them around her, ending heels up and looking at him between them.

He rubbed his scar, intently looking but not moving. Her ass caught his attention again, before she got on her shoes. Her hand swiftly undid the bra, throwing it to the side. Following her pace, he threw away his white jacket, and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt.

Shyness. Was it the way to describe her goosebumps? So much of her experience went bluntly to the point, and now she had to cover her nipples with her arm. However, she didn't stop dancing, touching herself down her belly and between her legs.

Her mouth let out a moan. Fuck this.

She threw herself at him, both lips melting as they touched. So long of not being close.

"My boyfriend is back, and he's cooler than ever…"

He returned her kiss, exploiting every erogenous inch on her body. His index finger trailed down her back, making her shiver, and continued its way on her arm, brushing all the skin his fingertips could cup.

Her breath paced higher, and bit his lip as soon as he tried touching her breasts. So long of not trembling with his caresses.

However, one of his hands ended on her bum. She didn't understand why did his mind got limited by doing such, but he pulled from the snuggle, and started giving attention to her twitching and hard nipples.

So much of a tongue dancing around a wet spot. No, why was she getting the service? Wasn't today his early birthday present?

She started undoing his shirt, subtly before a whimper escaped. His other arm held her closer, preventing her from going on with the buttons. He nibbled her right nipple, making her move hips unwittingly. So long of restrained sexual desire.

He released her breast and smiled at her, looking up. Surprising her, he got up and carried her by the large window, staring at the paradise landscape.

One day, he'll inherit all of this empire. As the boss of the feared Russian Mafia. Would she be there as her bodyguard? Or more…?

No, the bratva didn't admit any kind of wife.

She embraced his neck, putting her head on his shoulder, still looking to the colored sky. Why sorrow now? Every second of this brief escapade meant pleasure, wasn't it?

He let loose his grab on her legs, gently putting her down. Before her caramel eyes could ask what to do next, he caught her in a deep hug, embracing her waist.

"There's no way for us to come away… Because boy we're gold…"

So long for not feeling weak. So long for feeling secure in his arms, even if it was supposed to be the other way around.

Their hearts synched. No more pushbacks. No more cover ups. No more far away glances.

He nuzzled her hair. She noticed his urge of undoing her tied bun, but her long hair would make her job much harder. So she took initiative this time and caught his lips.

Now their moves became clumsier, his hands squeezing her bum and hers unbuttoning what was left of his shirt, exposing his buffed torso, so white the skin barely hid the veins. At last, her breasts found their place.

But it wasn't enough. The real treasure was inside his trousers. She grazed the bulge with her thigh. So long for not getting on her knees.

However, he caught her hand before she unclasped his belt, and guided her to the bed. Pulling down her last piece of lingerie, he kissed her belly, watching her getting redder and wetter.

This time pushing him back got way stronger, making his back bounce over the mattress. Her eyes stared hungrily at his bulge, before practically ripping the white trousers off him.

His length now exposed, met her tracing tongue up and down. Her right elbow was on his thigh, pinning him to this position. He brushed his fingers on her ear, as she licked his balls and began stroking him with her right hand.

Her left rubbed her clit furiously. So long for nights on her own.

Licks turned into tongue wraps, and finally a kiss on its head led into her mouth sliding down his shaft. She wasn't used to do such service, but freshly practicing with a wet dream and toy helped with the gag reaction.

Both his hands were on her head, following her pace. Her eyes were closed, focusing on her job.

The sour taste of pre-cum filled her mouth. She smiled and kept gobbling up and down. Suddenly, a thrust triggered a gag, quickly relaxed by her controlled breaths.

She looked at him, her lips rounding the head, and blinked, before closing her eyes again.

His hands gripped her free strands of golden hair and started pushing his length down her throat. His manly grunts, getting louder with each, excited her in the most, feeling her juices drip on her thigh. Her saliva over his shaft made her mouth slide even easier, just as much as this precious liquid would do.

Suddenly, his thrusts stopped and he pulled out of her. She glanced at his green eyes, with the twinkling trail following them as he moved.

Grabbing her by the waist, he made her stood up and sit over his shaft. Both sweet spots didn't even need guidance. He was inside her by the time he tried slapping her ass.

Ecstasy and euphoria. The real drugs behind all the cocaine trade over Miami. The drugs that Russian Mafia were dealers from. With a cry of pleasure, she started her riding.

Her ass commanded its own movements. Her vocal strings commanded her moans. The only thing she had conscience for was on her hands over his chest, burying her pink nails in his skin.

The claps of her breasts, his thighs with her butt cheeks, and moans took over her last brain cell. He pushed his length inside, pecking deeper on her walls, making her look at the skies through the concrete ceiling.

On it, she saw them both. He was aware of that too, meeting her gaze on the mirror. Before she could even process the thought, he thrusted again deeply. Her arms lost control and her breasts joined his chest.

Her moans got silenced by kisses. Now he was in control. Her nerves only sensed pleasure, unable to follow her brain's orders.

"They say the good die young… that just ain't right…"

He grabbed her waist and rolled over her back, face to face again. The pace didn't slow down. They just looked at each other, unable to keep mouth contact without losing their breath and rhythm.

A lick on his cheek surprised him. She smirked at his expression, and began giving pecks to his face, the scar winning the most care. Still, he focused on his job at hand, now able to reach deeper, and put his head over her shoulder. Her legs instinctively intertwined behind him, with strength unknown.

Her moans got louder, as her nails left their mark on his back. His tongue nuzzled circles on her ear, making even harder for her to lower her voice. So long for being gentle.

His neck seemed clean, no brushes, no cuts, and no hickeys. Perhaps he cleaned them up as some hooker made one or two, but she had to leave her own on him.

As she started sucking his skin, he lowered the pace, playing and pinching her erect nipples. Leaving the tiny purple spots, she licked her own lips while he stared at her. Blindly, he pulled out his dick and took off her heels. Somehow she had forgot they were still on.

Service up, he began kissing her pussy, fingering everywhere his tongue couldn't reach. Her fingers traced through his long dark hair, gathered some strands falling in front his face and pushed it back where it belonged.

The feeling of a French kiss on her down lips snatched her slowly getting back to consciousness. Neither she wanted it back, as her mouth started singing as he made his way from her clit, to her thigh, again pushing every soft spot he could find to the limit.

A trail of sweat dripped to her cheek. She grinned in satisfaction.

He stretched her legs and put them on each side of his head, beginning again. Her juices and his saliva made the perfect combination, allowing him to put it in even with the dimmest of lights.

The pace lowered and he started ravaging in places not known by anyone yet, not even herself. She tried biting her thumb to silence her sudden moan, but it was futile. Now they were talking.

Each ram against her meant a different type of voice. So much different when answering the one-liners to the Father. So much different when saying something cold to him. So cold…

"Keeping me hot, like July forever…"

Her eyes and mouth were wide open, staring directly to his face. Her left hand tried to hold onto the cover of the bed, pulling all she could in it like a stress ball.

No letting her catch a breath, no letting her even swallow a drip of saliva. However, it would take much more to tire a trained bodyguard. Noticing his grunts were much more frequent now, she hissed the safe word, just in case.

She released herself from his grip and made him lie on the bed, putting her ass on his face. Her breasts met his six-pack and his cock twitched at her touch, yet sensible to the much care of her tight pussy.

Licking her own juices, she saw a bit of the precious white liquid emerge from the tip. Sour, yet so hot. As she gulped, again the feeling down her pussy made her mind do circles. She had to return the favor.

But he didn't let her. Doesn't matter how much she tried controlling herself, any attempt of deepthroating him ended abruptly with an urge to scream out of pleasure. He chuckled at her failure, being answered by a fully face-sit from her, making him continue on what he riled up.

His warm hands joined hers, as she wiggled her hips, sensing his tongue dance on the upper layers of her womanhood. Her lips started calling for the same deity she was taught to worship since her young ages, following the most used swearing in every American vocabulary.

Numbness creeped to her thighs and the pleasure in the middle reached the atmosphere. She reaffirmed her grasp in his hands, as her brain briefly disconnected from the world.

Rainbows. Like the ones junkies made urban legends about when snorting coke. Those were real. Her mouth released a final huff, before falling to her left. She couldn't help but mutter the three cursed words, along with his name.

She knew her heart would be broken. Perhaps not now, but seeing him with other women shredded it, piece by piece. Why had she chosen this life? Does the heart really want what it wants? Or always wants the unreachable?

He didn't answer, and got up to the bathroom to clean his face was full of her wetness.

Some tears trailed down and fell on to the bed covers. What was the point of this? A taste of the drug make humans want for more. She wished for more right now, and she could have it, but just tonight.

His Father was an awfully wary man, and probably had smelled this encounter from miles away. Letting it happen, his soul found peace from his lost youth with his first and only love she heard of during his drunk rantings.

The boss of the Russian Mafia wouldn't overlook this again.

She heard his footsteps back into the room. Getting on her hands and knees to continue, she wiped last pair of tears coming out of her eyes.

He grabbed her hips, so she held her breath, preparing to the next session of ramming, hopefully to forget this was the first and last time being lovers.

Out of the blue, she got turned around, and began receiving kisses on her belly, gently reaching her breasts. Both of his hands cupped them, while he sucked her nipples, giving the same attention to each.

She used her hands to jam his head towards her, once he started nibbling and biting, with some low whimpers leaving through the little space of her closed lips.

His face closed the distance to hers. As they shared breath, he repeated her previous words, followed by her full name, wearing a sad smile.

Her body didn't respond for a pair of seconds. This was another kind of pleasure. Watching him wipe another tear hadn't been on her plans, but she would make up to him. The night was still young.

"So there's no need for us to hesitate… We're all alone, let's take control…"

Her tongue explored every inch of his mouth, as his danced along its movements, receiving all of her sudden energy. Much warmth gathered up from their skins joining, her breasts again pressed against his muscles.

Both hands traced on their backs and arms, building up the fire. His dick didn't seem to have lost any of its hardness during the time out. She raised her eyebrow as her hand reached it and gave a gentle stroke.

Enough teasing. Now with her pussy free from his way too skilled tongue, she could take care of his rock boner. Her eyes pointed out of the bed, making him stand up, and she finally could kneel down before his throbbing dick, brushing her tongue on her own lips.

She smirked at him before starting, and didn't break eye contact afterwards. Something about his pleasure and tensing face muscles aroused her to the most. Holding his shaft upwards, she started licking his balls on its way to the tip, using the saliva to stroke him easier.

Giving much more care to the head, her mouth finally took it, wrapping her tongue around. She was about to grab his hips and slid as most as her throat let her inside, when he undid her tied bun, and threw the pair of hairsticks away.

Her golden hair fell down her back and shoulders, making her close her left eye and shake her head looking at him, still with his cock on her mouth. As response, he grabbed all her now ruffled strands in one hand, pulling it a bit.

A sigh escaped from her, losing the touch over his thickness. Shortly after, her mouth got filled again, in direction to her right cheek and appeared a light bulge over it. She tapped it with her free hand and he started fucking her throat.

She didn't mind. She was ready for it. Many waves of pleasure ran through her body as the tip poked the deep throat, her pulled hair made it even worse to endure her urge.

Her wish to release moans got interrupted by his thrusts, and the presence of gags and gasps. Now she was tasting his meat, its texture and every liquid the tip released.

After a short while, he released her and took his cock with him, and pointed to the bed. She, eager from the pleasure and dripped saliva on the corners on her mouth, hopped on and got on her hands and knees again.

She looked back, knowing her ass was much more of a sight for sore eyes. He grinned hungrily at her, slapping her cheek as he aimed to her tight cunt.

A primal roar let out from her usual lower voice. So long of not letting out her Inner Animal.

He ravaged her, pushing every drop of stamina he had left. His left hand explored her body, cupped her left breast, twisted briefly the nipple and ended up spanking her, leaving it red at the contact. His right firmly gripped her golden hair, setting the pace as she was forced to look up.

His left arm lowered and embraced her waist, before he leaned forward and reached his tongue to hers, driving her wilder, making her walls even tighter.

The rhythm continued. Both sweaty. Both driven mad for ecstasy. Both venting off for what they couldn't do for years. Fucking like animals. He released her hair and grabbed both of her wrists, pulling them to him, and not wasting momentum he shoved with more strength.

Deeper and deeper thrusts marked her womb forever, her brain fabricating fireworks, just for her to see. Her vocal strings tired out of screaming, leaving only moans that meant the same. Suddenly, he let her free. However, her muscles barely responded, her ass being the single part of her body still with tension, pinned up.

He grasped her hips and shoved as deep as he could, filling her insides with his warm seed. She just got overdosed by pleasure, spasms running over her body, mostly on her pussy.

Anyway, she trained to overcome any obstacle, and, even if her muscles didn't respond, she managed to roll over and catch his still hard dick in her mouth, as he tried resting beside her.

Her mind recalled the deity again, as she savored the leftovers of his milk over his shaft. The will and crave on her sucking made his length twitch and release one last drop, entirely inside the mouth.

Even with the sour taste, she swallowed the precious liquid, along with the much more she had inside her vagina. So long of not using her safe days well.

He put an arm around her shoulder and put her closer. She rested her cheek and ear over his chest, listening to his heart.

"Wanna run away with me? And start over away from this mess?"

"No. Your Father did his best for you. He doesn't deserve this."

"I didn't choose the Mafia. What I choose matters, and I've chosen you."

"You don't know what you're saying. Did I feel that good your mind gears stopped spinning?"

"I don't speak nonsense, Nai. And yes, you feel awesome. The best woman I'll ever have."

"That's not true, Sasha. You'll have many more in your years…"

"I don't give a crap about them. You're in my heart, marked inside."

"Why do you make this harder?" She restrained a sob. "I love you too! I want to wake up every morning and see your face! I want to be on your side on what's left of my life! I…

"Because I wish the same for me. This isn't the life we were meant for, but all our choices, even the ones setting us apart, led us here, and having you in my arms, is enough for giving mine meaning."

She intertwined her right leg between his and faced him. Like an immediate answer, he kissed her forehead, before she got back on listening to the beats.

"And a lust for life, Keep us alive…"

Her nails started making traces on his stomach, going down to his crotch, where his flabby member rested. He was a young man at the top of her youth, of course he wouldn't end the night like this.

His dick responded with a twitch, regaining constitution. As she stroked again, not yet satisfied, she remembered her still dripping pussy, so she got up, put her arms below her breasts and opened her mouth.

"Care to join me in the shower, miliy moi?"

She didn't even need to ask. More and more stimuli right away, even before opening the tap. The hot water barely matched the heat growing inside their cores, as they exchanged kissed all over their bodies.

Soon, she'd be screaming his name with her hands and breasts pressed to the shower's window. And he did too, as her walls being sensitive didn't mean she couldn't tighten them more.

The window got blurry by the vapor, and a finger drew a heart from the inside. Nothing would make them stop on their primal instinct, not for this night.

This night was entirely theirs.

December 14th, 1991. Soon after the events of Take Over.

Sasha looked at the stars from his rooftop. Everything was different now.

The men celebrated on the floor below. The Mafia was again on the map, after two years of hiding, or better words, mourning. Still, he didn't smile. He was alone.

His right hand abandoned him. His last bond to the past, when every step in his life was planned. He just hoped whoever was this girl he talked about made him happy. As much as Nai would have made him if she was here.

He gripped the bullet token necklace with the terrible day marked on. Was his father watching? Even if he were down below? Finally, his son could see him up to the eye.

He unsheathed the katana fixed on his belt and pointed to the sky. Was she watching? He finally achieved his destiny, as the strongest Pakan in any bratva in history.

A tear began trailing down his cheek. Feelings he had on hold for two years now. Why was he so empty? The entire city of Miami was his. Nothing was out of his reach.

The wind embraced his uncovered skin and white suit, gently touching his watery eyes. He quickly wiped them, hoping none of his men would search for him right in that moment. The current Pakan, famed for being a remorseless and psycho killer.

His hair blew away. Now he understood why she carried her shades everywhere. Grabbing the broken pair from his pocket, he put them on. Did she cry that much? How much pain she held inside?

"Sasha... moi lyubimyy!" ("My love.")

He knew her voice talking was his brain playing him a trick. But nothing stopped him to answer his own imagination. She still lived there.

"Moya zvezdochka, ya sdelal eto." ("My star, I made it.")


Crockett - She Was