Page 6 of Delicious Prey

Kirill

Satisfied, I fold the two pieces of paper and put them in an envelope. When Tony walks past my door, I hand him the letters. He takes them with a grunt, barely even bothering to glance through the small window. I catch sight of his ruddy, chubby cheeks, and then he’s gone. I won’t see him again until tomorrow. I don’t know what he’s so pissy about. I’m spending a goddamn fortune to keep him on my payroll. His kids will go to college because of me. All he has to do is keep me in my nice solitary cell and be my little messenger boy, delivering things between me and Vadim. Easy way to make a million.

Ensuring I would get a solitary cell wasn’t hard to do. Even after paying off Tony, I had to make it seem a necessity, so the first day I was here, I killed someone, crushed his goddamn throat when the stupid fucker tried to pick a fight with me. Tony had stepped in and taken control while also earning him a little bit of respect from his fellow correctional officers. I tower over most men, and I’ve always worked hard to keep myself in top physical condition. Most people give me a very wide berth. I’d let the little guy have his fun, though, and humbly followed him to my new cell. I’m not worried about my safety in the general population. I can take care of myself, but I don’t like company, and a roommate would no doubt annoy the hell out of me. I’d rather not deal with it. Plus, no one gets to see what belongs to me.

Sitting on my cot, I rest my forearms on my legs and stare at the wall in front of me. I’ve taped up several photos of Lydia that Vadim has sent me. I’ve already memorized every detail of her face—the big, blue eyes, the long, dark hair that shows hints of red when she’s in the sun, and the slight build. She’s perfect, and she’s going to be what gets me through this hell. She will be my salvation, the reason I wake up in the morning, and she will be what helps me keep my sanity in this cell that feels like it’s constantly growing smaller.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been locked up, but it’s damn well going to be the last. I spent a few months in a real shithole in Russia when I was eighteen, and that place makes this place look like the fucking Hilton. I can survive this. I can fucking survive anything.

Keeping my eyes locked on the photo of Lydia in a white sundress with little pink flowers on it, my mind oscillates between wanting to fuck her so hard she’ll barely be able to walk when I’m done, each hard thrust a reminder of why she shouldn’t have pointed me out in that courtroom, and wanting to fuck her slowly and treating her like the delicate little thing she is. I don’t want to break her, at least I don’t think I do, not fully anyway. Maybe just a little bit. Maybe just enough to show her who’s really in control, and it sure as hell isn’t her.

I stare at the wall until my supper tray arrives. It’s as unappetizing as every meal that’s come before, but I eat it all anyway, barely tasting the watery mashed potatoes and hunk of meatloaf. Spearing a green bean on my plastic spork, I keep my eyes on Lydia and finish the rest of my food.

It takes two weeks for me to get a return letter. My little bunny held out longer than I thought she would. Her strength both amazes and infuriates me. Tony’s leading me back to my cell after my two-hour daily break. I spend most of it lifting weights, only taking a quick shower right before it’s time for me to go back to my small dungeon. When he locks me in, he hands me a small package.

“You’re a good man, Tony,” I tell him, but he just scowls harder than usual.

“Yeah, they’ll probably give me a medal for this.”

“It’s hard to make a living nowadays. You’re ensuring your family will be taken care of. Can’t fault a man for that.”

He ignores my little pep talk, and I try not to laugh. He’s a greedy dick, who’s willingly put himself on my payroll, a hitman for a notorious Bratva. Not Tony’s finest hour. Of course, if he hadn’t taken the money, my man would’ve had to kill him, and then someone else would be standing here delivering my messages. It makes no difference to me who it is, just as long as the job gets done.

Opening the package, I groan when I see a sealed baggie with pink, lacy panties in it. Resisting the urge to tear into it right away, I set it aside and grab the letter that’s written in Russian.

Boss,

It took a little convincing, but after breaking in and rearranging her living room furniture, she finally decided it was in her best interest to write. She’s following her usual routine, going to work and walking her dog, but she’s constantly looking over her shoulder and looks like she’s lost a bit of weight. She also spends a lot of time in her flower garden. Everything seems normal, but she still wakes up screaming every night.

I found this pair of underwear in a pile of dirty clothes. Thought you might want them. Don’t worry, I didn’t touch them with my bare hands or sniff them. I don’t have a death wish.

Your dogs are doing good. They haven’t eaten me yet, so I’m taking that as a good sign. The Teterevs and Farettis are still slowly killing one another. Rumor has it Ivan is very, very pissed. Without you, he’s not nearly as strong as he was.

Vadim

He’s smart enough to not include a picture of my dogs. No photos of anything to do with my house. Ever. The mention of Ivan worries me a bit, but there’s nothing I can do about the shitstorm he paid me to create. He can get his own ass out of trouble for once.

I pick up Lydia’s letter, pleased to see that it’s longer than the last one. It’s not as long as I want, but still, progress is progress. I run my fingers over her pretty cursive, and this time when I smell the paper, I’m positive I get a whiff of jasmine. Just that one smell is enough to have my cock straining against my pants. Savoring every second of this moment, I lay back on my thin mattress and read my girl’s letter.

Kirill,

Congratulations, you’ve scared me enough to write your goddamn letter. Who the hell broke into my house? Why would you have someone do that? Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to know that a hitman has people breaking into my home? Are you going to kill me?

I don’t know what you want from me. I saw you that night. I saw you kill my dad. I couldn’t just not say anything in that courtroom. You have ruined my life, Kirill. I worked my ass off in high school so that I could get a full scholarship, and I had to give all that up. I work forty hours a week as a cashier in a grocery store, although I’m sure you already know that, you fucking psycho, and I don’t see my life getting any better. I may not have been close to my dad, but he was still my dad, and you murdered him. Why did you let me live? What kind of hitman leaves witnesses? Maybe you’re just not a very good one…

I have to stop because I’m laughing too hard to continue. God, my little bunny has balls of steel. Slipping a hand into the orange pants they issued me, I lazily stroke myself while I keep reading.

Will you leave me alone if I ask nicely? Please, please, please leave me alone, Kirill. What’s done is done, and you’re in prison for life now. I think you should just accept that and try to move on. I know I’m trying to. I’ve done what you asked, and I didn’t go to the police, but I want you to stop now. No more letters, no more breaking into my house, just no more anything. Let me live my pathetic life in peace.

Lydia

P.S. Don’t ever mention Peanut again. It feels like a threat, and I swear to God, if you hurt my dog, I will find a way to fucking kill you.

P.P.S. Please fuck off.

As soon as I finish her letter, I reach for the sealed plastic bag and rip it open, pawing at her lacy panties like a fucking animal. I work myself harder and bring them to my face, taking in a lungful of her pussy’s sweet scent. God, she makes me fucking feral. I tighten my grip on my shaft and pick up the pace. Unable to resist, I bite the crotch of her panties between my teeth and run my tongue over the used strip of fabric, the same strip that was nestled against her sweet cunt. Her name echoes through my mind as I explode in my goddamn hand. The force of the orgasm leaves me breathless and my heart pounding in my ears.

“Fucking hell,” I groan when I pull her panties out of my mouth. I give them one more sniff before cleaning myself up and grabbing a pen and some paper.

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