Snow: A Dark Mafia Romance (Underworld Book 2)

There are no pleasures in a fight but some of my fights have been a pleasure to win.

Muhammad Ali

Snow gets more and more quiet as we check our bags, board the plane, and buckle our seatbelts.

At first, I think it’s just the enormity of the move, leaving Russia for America. Neither one of us has set foot in New York City before, though I almost feel like I have from how many times I’ve seen its streets on movie screens.

However, as the plane starts to taxi and Snow grips my hand, I realize that he’s frightened.

“Don’t be nervous,” I tell him. “Flying’s safer than driving, statistically speaking.”

“It’s fucking madness, going up five thousand feet in the air,” he says.

I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s more like thirty-thousand feet.

He closes his eyes as the plane accelerates, roaring down the runway. There’s a swoop and a lift, and then we’re climbing. I lift the window shade, so I can watch St. Petersburg dropping away beneath us.

When I was chained to Krupin, I longed to get away from it. But now I almost feel sad seeing the Winter Palace and the Trinity Bridge growing small beneath us.

I wish we could take all the people we love along with us. Snow asked Meyer to come, but he just laughed and said he’d live and die in the same spot, like a dandelion. He did give Snow the names of several trainers in New York who could help him book mainstream fights, as well as help him get his state licensure.

Shockingly, it was Krupin who pulled the strings for Snow to get his visa. He was in the best mood I’ve ever seen him, in the rush of winning his bet against Stepanov. He was likewise pleased that Papa offered to keep running the restaurant for him, though he didn’t strictly have to anymore once the debt was paid. Maybe Krupin will even start paying him.

Stepanov, by contrast, looked fucking murderous at the defeat of his top enforcer. I’m not sure what he would have done, if Ivan Petrov hadn’t been sitting right next to him, keeping the peace. I don’t know if the deal between Stepanov and Krupin went through in the end, but I’d guess that Petrov’s presence at the tournament was enough of an endorsement to ensure that Krupin is accepted back into the inner circle of the Bratva.

I don’t have to worry about their power struggles anymore, thank god.

By contrast, I think the rat race of New York City will be positively relaxing.

I hope to take the U.S. medical licensing exam once Snow and I are settled in. From there, I can do a residency and start working as a proper doctor. I hear they make good money in America, and they actually get to help sick people, instead of stitching up gangsters who can’t keep themselves out of trouble.

Maybe I’ll still do a little of that for Snow. I’ll still be his private medic, though I’m not anyone else’s.

He’s relaxed now that the plane has leveled out and we’re moving smoothly through the air.

“That’s not so bad, huh?” I say to him.

“Sure,” he says, quirking an eyebrow at me. “I was never worried.”

He puts up the armrest between us so I can nestle closer to him. The scent of his skin makes my heart race. I’m surprised how this feeling hasn’t dampened in the slightest. Actually, I think I’m more attracted to him by the day. I keep thinking the butterflies will go away with time, but instead they hit me harder and harder, until I’m like a punch-drunk fighter you could knock over with a feather.

I wish everyone could be in love like this. I’m worried for poor Boom Boom – he’s fallen head over heels for Anastasia. He’s been going to visit her every day, checking in on her. Her baby is due any time now.

Snow thinks he doesn’t have an ice cube’s chance in hell — “He’s not even circumsised, for fuck’s sake!”.

I hope he’s wrong. Boom Boom may not be smooth or handsome, but he’s kind and loyal, and that goes a long way with women.

Still, her loss is so deep. I know she loved the Rabbi terribly.

If something happened to Snow, I don’t know if I could ever move on.

Mistaking the look of concern on my face, Snow says, “Are you missing your sister?”

“Of course,” I say. “But she’ll come visit us.”

Snow met Papa before, in a manner of speaking, but the day after Snow won the tournament, I introduced them formally, and Mila as well. He wasn’t exactly a pretty sight, with his face so swollen and bruised. Still, I felt nothing but pride bringing him into our house.

Papa thanked him for what he did for our family. Mila was a little intimidated at first. She warmed up once Snow asked her about her classes and teachers at school. Soon she was teasing him about his taste in movies and begging him to bring his cat around next time, since she loves animals more than anything.

I will miss Mila badly. She’s got her own adventures to go on, though. She’ll be graduating this spring. She told me she wants to get a job at a newspaper. Not in Russia, but somewhere in Europe. Paris, maybe, since Mama made us learn French as children. I told her to stay out of trouble, and she laughed and said I had no right to tell anybody that, and she wasn’t going to take my advice anyway.

The only person Snow didn’t meet was Mama, because she hasn’t been home once since she left for Auntie Agata’s house. I think that’s why Papa is clinging so hard to the restaurant, even though we don’t own it anymore. It’s all he has left now.

I want to be angry at Mama, but I can’t. Loving someone is not for the faint of heart. It can be hard and dangerous and painful. It takes everything from you.

But what you get back . . .

It’s like investing a penny to own the wealth of the world.

My happiness terrifies me.

I don’t know how anyone can deserve it.

I lean my head against Snow’s chest and rest my hand on his thigh. I can’t help inching my fingers just a little higher, until I can feel his cock beneath his shorts, rapidly swelling under my palm.

“Behave yourself,” he growls at me.

“It’s such a long flight though . . .” I say.

“We’re supposed to be law-abiding citizens now,” he says.

I give an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright,” I say. “Just know that I didn’t put any panties on under this dress . . .”

With that I slip out of my seat, making my way toward the bathroom at the back of the plane.

I open the accordion door, stepping into the cramped space. Before I can close it behind me, Snow pushes his way inside and snaps the door shut.

He wraps his arm around me from behind, pinning me tight against his body. He’s so huge that he barely fits in the tiny space, his shoulders nearly touching both walls.

“You better not be lying to me,” he growls in my ear.

“I never lie to you,” I say.

Our perpetual promise hangs in the air between us.

I’m not nice . . . but I’m always honest.

Snow grabs the hem of my pale blue sundress and pulls it up around my waist. Then he reaches down and grazes my pussy lips with his fingers.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my neck.

My bare bottom is pressed against the crotch of his shorts. I can feel his cock standing straight up, hard as an iron bar. It fits neatly between my cheeks. I grind against it, making him moan.

“Shh,” I say. “Don’t get us in trouble.”

“You’re already in trouble,” he says.

He bends me over the sink and pulls down the front of his shorts. His cock springs free, burning hot against my skin. He plunges it inside of me, making me gasp.

That’s another thing I thought I would get used to: the size of him.

Well, I haven’t. It feels like he’s deflowering me again every damn time.

He moistens his fingers in his mouth and reaches around in front of me to rub my clit, easing the passage of his cock. He needn’t have bothered—I’m already wet enough that his fingers slide easily over that sensitive little button, sending sparks of pleasure up and down my body.

Snow rubs me in time with his thrusts. As one speeds up, so does the other. Now it’s me who has to stifle my cries as waves of pleasure build in my belly.

“Don’t stop,” I beg him. “Please don’t stop.”

He presses harder as he thrusts deep inside. His strong, warm hand and that masterful cock bring me exactly where I’m longing to go. I start to cum, clamping my own hand over my mouth to stifle the cries.

When I finish, Snow turns me around and sits me on the sink, so he can look at me while he finishes fucking me. I hook my legs around his waist, leaning back as far as I can in the cramped space.

He looks bigger than ever in here. I love the size and strength of his body. I love the way he looks at me when he’s buried deep inside me. He looks like he can’t believe his luck, which is exactly how I feel, too.

“Tell me you love me,” he says.

“I love you!” I cry.

“Tell me you’re mine forever.”

“Yours and only yours.”

“Now tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and bite the side of his neck.

“I need it, Daddy,” I whisper in his ear.

With his arms locked around me, he explodes inside of me. He crushes my body against his, cumming as deep inside me as he can reach.

Then he sets me back down on the sink, his forehead still pressed against mine.

“Are you going to be this naughty in America?” he pants.

“No,” I say. “I’ll be much worse.”

I let Snow leave first, since I can’t get past him anyway. Then I pee, wash my hands, and head back to my seat.

As I sit down once more, my foot bumps against Okalina’s carrier. She gives me a plaintive little mew.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I whisper down to her.

“She’ll like New York,” Snow says. “Lots of rats, I hear.”

“Not in our apartment!” I say, playfully punching his arm. “It’s a nice place.”

“If pictures can be trusted.”

“Pictures are what brought us here,” I say. “Pictures. Movies. Dreams.”

“And a snow globe,” he says.

I saw him pack it in his bag. He hardly brought anything else.

“That’s where we’ll go first,” I tell him. “Madison Square Garden.”

“No!” he says. “Pizza first. Then we’ll go everywhere else.”