Whistling to himself softly, John placed a large bowl of Caesar salad at the center of his dinner table and set some silverware down on the table. He wasn’t sure what kind of food Ana would like so he figured pasta and salad would be a safe option. He’d called his mother earlier to figure out her recipe and she’d been delighted. John knew his mother wanted him to settle down so hearing him request a recipe for a date made her day. He was barely able to get her off the phone she was so excited. She wanted to know what tie he was wearing, how the table was set, if he’d lit any candles, and numerous other questions that John could barely dodge. By the time he was off the phone John was more nervous than he was before he’d called his mother, and he was considering lighting candles. John shook his head, surprised by his own cheesiness and nervousness. He hadn’t had a woman over this apartment before, and he’d never cooked for a date before. By the time the doorbell rang John had worked himself into a nervous wreck, and had lit the candles 3 times only to blow them out and put them back away. John wiped his hands off on a dish rag and tossed it back in the direction of the sink as he made his way to the door and nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw her. She was wearing a tight sleeveless black leather dress with a gold zipper running along the front. The sweetheart neckline cradled her voluptuous breasts, pushing them up to present them towards him. John’s eyes trailed over her leather encased body greedily, his mind thinking of every place he wanted to kiss, touch, and suck the minute dinner was over. The dress stopped a few inches above her knees, leading down her long lean legs and a pair of high black pumps. John considered dropping to the floor and tugging the short dress up to have a peek of the goodness beneath. John dragged his eyes from her legs, back up her body and smirked, seeing her eyes widen with understanding.

                “Don’t even think about it John. We’re having dinner. Dinner.” Ana emphasized, folding her arms in front of her chest. The action only pushed her breasts up even higher, dragging John’s attention back down to her body.

                “Okay, we’ll have dinner.” He grinned, his mint green eyes sparkling with mischief and his jeans feeling tighter by the minute. Ana barely had time to protest before he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the apartment. After kicking the door shut behind them he pressed Ana back against it and smiled devilishly. “First I’ll eat,” he cast a glance down her body, letting Ana know exactly what he meant when he said eat, “and then, we’ll both eat. That’s called dinner.” He explained. John lowered his head and pressed a hot firm kiss to her lips, eliminating all hopes of a reply from Ana. She moaned softly against his lips, closing her eyes and enjoying his kiss. He licked her lips, his tongue requesting entrance which she kindly obliged. His tongue slipped between her lips, tasting her sweetness and swallowing every one of her delicious whimpers. His kiss was fierce, spreading heat throughout Ana’s body and wrecking all of her senses. Her heart was beating sluggishly as though her blood had turn to molten lava, and every cell in Ana’s body screamed for her to get closer to John. John’s hands trailed down her sides until he reached her hips and squeezed hard before moving back to her plump ass. He squeezed and kneaded his hands against the smooth material, but it wasn’t enough. He tugged up the fabric of the short little dress until it was bunched around her hips and grabbed her ass, tugging her firmly against his lower body. Ana could plainly feel his bulge against her and felt a fresh spike of need pulse through her.

“John.” She whispered against his lips, unable to resist her lust for him any longer. John growled, hearing his name come from her lips only made his dick throb harder, eager to push inside of her molten heat.  John broke the kiss as is hand slipped between their bodies, grabbing the zipper at the top of her dress and yanked down. The dress parted in the middle and slipped off, leaving Ana in only a black strapless bra and a tiny black thong. John growled as his eyes raced over her curvy body, drinking in as much of her as possible. He dragged his eyes back to her face and bent his knees. He hoisted her over his shoulders and practically sprinted to his bedroom. Ana squealed and beat her hands against his muscular back.

“John!” Ana screeched as she bounced up and down on his shoulder, she couldn’t help giggling at his urgency, though she felt the same need. Once they reached his bedroom he dropped her on the bed and began stripping in record time. Ana enjoyed the show, seeing his tanned muscular flesh, her palms itching to feel his smooth skin. The smell of spices and cheese filled Ana’s nostrils, reminding her that they hadn’t eaten dinner yet. Ana’s stomach rumbled and she began to wonder which hunger she should fill first, her hunger for food or her hunger for John. She cast a glance at John’s naked body, trailing down his abdomen and to his very thick erect cock. It was about 7 inches and throbbing, the swollen head was darkened purple and weeping at the tip. Ana’s mouth watered, she definitely knew which hunger to satisfy first.

“So boyscout, do I have the right to remain silent?” she teased lightly as he dug through the nightstand for a condom, his frustration building by the minute and he grumbled low in his throat. John hadn’t been entertaining many female guests, but he knew there must be a condom in his drawer somewhere. Finally he saw a shiny package at the bottom of his drawer and dug out what he was looking for. He held the package within his fingers and turned to her with a smirk. Ana raised one eyebrow at his fierce expression, watching him crawl onto the bed and rip the package open with his teeth. John sheathed himself quickly and grabbed Ana’s ankle in a tight grip.

“You have the right to remain silent.” He confirmed with a growl, “Though I doubt you’ll be able to.” He tightened his grip on her ankle and tugged her down the mattress, hovering above her. Ana gasped, shocked by his bravado, but she could bluff along with the best of them. Raising her chin confidently she trailed her hands up his bare chest until they settled on his broad shoulders.

“Questioning my resolve officer?” she asked, pouting flirtatiously. She licked her lips slowly, seeing the action catch his attention gave her a satisfied feeling. He lowered his head and pressed a heated kiss to her plump lips. Ana’s toes curled and she arched her back, attempting to gain more contact with John, to feel his skin slide across her’s, to absorb all of his warmth. John tore his lips from hers, breathing heavily and noticing that she was just as winded as he was. Her brown eyes were darkened with lust, and she was eyeing him with a hunger that nearly matched his own.

“Not questioning sweetheart, promising.” John growled. And he spent the next two hours fulfilling his promise.

*******************************************************************************************

                Ana lay on her stomach, her  arms folded under her head like a pillow as she took a deep breath and blinked sleepily, feeling completely sated. The thick navy blanket lay tussled around her waist, leaving everything above her waist bare. John lay on his side next to her, his fingertips drawing small little patterns over her bare back. John had spent two hours throwing Ana into intense mind numbing orgasms, and then they took a break to eat pasta that made Ana swoon for joy. Afterwards John carried back to bed, bridal style this time, and joined her beneath the covers for another few hours of furious fucking until they both lost the ability to breath. John trailed his index finger up and down the graceful arch of Ana’s spine, occasionally flattening his hand right at the twin dimples above her ass and massaging her smooth chocolate brown skin. John took his time, mapping out every inch of skin beneath his palms before focusing on her tattoos.

                “When did you get these?” he asked, touching the 8-point stars on each of her shoulder blades, running his hand back and forth between the two. Ana lifted her chin slightly, attempting to see the tattoos in question before resting back onto her arms.

                “When I turned 17.” She answered. Tattoos were common among organized crime and gang members, and Ana was also part of the tradition. The stars were a symbol of her status and power within the Aleksandrov family and Ana wore them proudly. Mikhail and Nikolai both had matching stars on their knees, to symbolize that they would bow to no man. Ana knew she couldn’t tell John the true meaning of the tattoos, but for a moment, she forgot who they truly were. “The stars symbolize strength and power.” She explained vaguely. John nodded and trailed his hand lower to the tattoo in the center of her back. He used his fingertip to sketch over the intricate details of the tattoo, his warm touch somehow relaxing and frightening Ana at the same time. She knew the tattoo he was touching. It was special to her. It showed an angel with her head down and her knees drawn up into her chest. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and her hair was falling down in front of her face, covering her arms and part of her legs. The angels’ wings were bold and powerful, giving the appearance of strength despite the fragile state of the angel. Ana loved the tattoo, but she hadn’t let anyone see it besides the tattoo artist. She’d had it done secretly a few months after she and Mikhail had…been together. The wings on the angel were a miniaturized version of the large one’s on Mikhail’s back. Ana vividly remembered raking her nails across the wings, feeling Mikhail’s muscles tense and pulse beneath her hands. Ana frowned, regretting the surge of lust that came with the memory and forced herself to remain in the moment with John. She expected him to ask about the tattoo since he kept returning to it but he didn’t.

                “Tell me about your family.” He murmured. Ana blinked, stunned by the sudden change of subject and then smiled, she shouldn’t be surprised by John but she always was. He was different than anyone she had ever encountered, and it made Ana excited and curious about him.

                “My family…is complicated” she faltered. John nodded slowly in understanding. He knew some people had trouble with their family and he didn’t want to push her but Ana continued anyway. “My mother died…giving birth to me. And my father just threw himself into work.” Ana explained.

                “What does your dad do?” he asked, moving some of her long hair onto her back before brushing it back off.

                “Just some work for this organization, cleaning up messes. Things like that.” Ana lied effortlessly. John thought about this for a moment before nodding his head.

                “That must have been hard for you, growing up without a mother.” He observed. John couldn’t imagine life without knowing his mother and her crazy shenanigans. She’d taught him right from wrong, good morals, kept him fed, and kissed every little scrape he had as a child. The woman was pure gold in his mind, it made him sad that Ana couldn’t grow up with some of the same experiences.

                “I think it was hardest for my dad.” Ana admitted, feeling remorse flow through her. “I look just like my mother and I think it was...painful for him to have me. I mean, he tried his best, but it hurt him. I reminded him of the woman he’d lost.” She’d never actually spoken about her past, or her father. Hell, she hadn’t even cried during his funeral, but looking back on it now with a fresh pair of eyes felt…different. She remembered the pained expression in his eyes as he tried to smile at her when she was a child, how he’d get a puzzled expression when she did something odd, and the few times when he’d get choked up and ‘Papa’ Mitri would ease her away from him. Ana’s eyes began to mist up slightly and she quickly blinked away the potential tears, easing back into her casual cool demeanor. “My father died when I was 8, so I didn’t really know him that well. But he was a good man, he was good at what he did. And I know he loved my mother, he gave me her last name.”

                “She must have been a beautiful woman.” John noted, trying to make Ana smile and succeeding.

                “She was.” Ana agreed. “I have a few pictures of her, and she looked like she was so full of life. Like the sun rose within her.” Ana said her voice full of wonder. “She was a chef, and I was told that anything she touched would turn to culinary gold.” She chuckled before frowning slightly, her face a mask of sadness and regret. “I I wish that, I could have tasted something she’d made.”

                The Aleksandrov chef’s all attempted to mimic Tamara Jackson’s creations, but none of it matched the descriptions Ana had received about her mother’s food. It made Ana feel worse, empty. Like there was a void left within her that she couldn’t fill no matter how hard she tried, through racing often made her forget the sadness that would occasionally hit her on lonely nights. John’s deep voice snapped Ana out of her thoughts.

                “Who took care of you after your parents passed?” he asked while reaching is arm over to her side, he tugged her closer to his body and rolled over to lie on his back. Ana was grateful for his support and moved her leg between his, smiling softly. He seemed to care about her and it was sweet. It made Ana feel cherished, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt that way.

                “A close family friend.” She murmured against his chest, rubbing her cheek against his skin briefly before stopping herself.

                “You didn’t live with your grandparents or something?” John asked, puzzled by the answer.

                “My mother’s family is all gone, she was the last one. The last Jackson.” Ana said with a shrug. “And my father’s family pretty much left him to fend for himself. They didn’t approve of him.”

                “Why not?” John asked, wondering what would make a person’s family leave them all on their own.

                “My dad was the product of an interracial relationship. His dad was a prominent member of a wealthy well known family. The family wasn’t very happy that one of their own had impregnated a black woman.” Ana explained bitterly, bending around the truth just slightly. Her father Sergei was the son of one of the many Dragovich heirs, during a time when the Dragovich’s and the Aleksandrov’s openly competed for control of the city. When the Dragovich’s wanted to act out against her father, they tipped off the police, collectively snitching, and got her father killed. In retaliation, Dmitri Aleksandrov wiped out the entire Dragovich line, leaving Ana as the last remaining heir to the Dragovich throne, not that she wanted the title. She didn’t want any ties with an ignorant family whatsoever, and was happy that she didn’t have the Dragovich last name. John couldn’t believe people were still so mindless. He’d been raised to judge people based on their actions, not their appearance.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell them that it’s what inside that counts?” John asked, looking down at Ana. She smirked and rolled on top of him, effectively sending his body into high attention.

“You mean you only like me for my insides?” she asked, feigning hurt and surprise. John smiled, feeling his cock harden instantly.

“Well, you certainly have very lovely outsides,” he joked, sliding his hand beneath the covers to grip her bare ass, “but I definitely am a fan of your insides as well.” He chuckled, lifting his head up he pressed a kiss to her lips that quickly escalated into something fierce. John rolled over on top of Ana and broke the kiss. “You know what? I think I should get better acquainted with your insides, just to be sure.”

**************************************************************************************************

Down the hall, Kirill walked back and forth in Ana’s apartment, taking note of everything in the apartment. His worker’s were installing a state of the art surveillance system within the wall of motorcycle helmets on the wall while he looked at her belongings. Kirill felt a malicious sense of pride wash through him as he searched her drawers, taking out a pair of lavender lace boy shorts and sniffing them greedily before burying them in his pocket. He’d been watching Ana for a while now, learning her patterns, her likes, her dislikes. Mostly he liked breaking into her place at night and watching her sleep. The little bitch was soo sure of her protection that she didn’t even lock her doors. Being a ward of the Aleksandrov family came with some perks, and nobody would dare mess with her, so she must feel secure. Not that he could blame her, the Aleksandrov’s were a force to be reckoned with nowadays, but Kirill would make all of that change. Soon, he would have everything that was snatched away from him as a kid. He saw a photograph on her nightstand and picked it up. It showed her and the infamous Aleksandrov twins at the beach, and Kirill had to keep himself from shattering the frame violently. His goal here was more important than mere vandalism.

“So this is how the Aleksandrov’s coveted princess lives?” asked Giorgy, Kirill’s right hand man. “I thought females usual had more stuff.” He frowned, looking around the barely decorated place. Kirill looked back over his shoulder at his accomplice briefly before turning to place the picture frame back down. He turned and walked out of the room, clapping Giorgy on his back as he passed the older gentleman.

“Yes Yura,” Kirill said, using his nickname for the older gentleman, “this is how she lives. The last of the Dragovich line. The Aleksandrov’s have wiped out the rest.”

“Boss, you’re still here.” Giorgy noted, watching the surveillance team pack up their materials. The small group of seedy men made their way out of the apartment, leaving everything exactly as they left it.

“Yes,” Kirill agreed with Giorgy once they were in his limo, “My life is a mistake on the part of the Aleksandrov’s. A mistake that will prove to be deadly.”