by Jane Henry
Over and over he thrusts. My pulse races, my thighs are slick with arousal, and every inch of my skin prickles. Lowering his head to my neck, he sinks his teeth into the tender skin above my collarbone. The erotic pain and pleasure send me over the edge, and I fly into ecstasy.
I’m wracked with pleasure, dimly aware of him grunting his own release. His seed lashes into me and I wrap my legs around him so tightly it hurts. I pulse and clench around him, groaning so loudly I’m hoarse. I ride the waves of pleasure as he comes, my body numb but for the pleasure that wraps me in a cocoon.
I’m fractured but sated when we finally finish, his heavy body atop mine like a security blanket. I weave my arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to me. I kiss him so that he knows I’m his, but he’s mine as well. I own him as he owns me.
Heart. Body. Soul.
Chapter 17
Tomas
I don’t quite comprehend how someone so submissive can challenge a man like me. She laps up my praise like a kitten with milk, eager to please. She glows under my approval, yet when I take her to bed, the kitten’s claws come out.
Perhaps she needs to fight me, so I take her. Maybe she needs to lose control, but on her terms. There are many things about her I don’t yet know, but I make it my mission to find out.
After our vicious, blissful lovemaking, I roll onto my back and take her with me. I expect she’ll want to lay here like this, but she doesn’t. After a few moments, she slides herself atop me, straddling me from above.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Caroline’s hair is crazed, giving her the appearance of a wildcat. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes wild and gorgeous.
“I want to ride you,” she says. “Teach me to ride you.”
I slap her thigh.
“That’s enough telling me what to do, little detka.”
She sticks out her lower lip in a pout, and it’s so adorable I’d give her anything she fucking wanted right then. When she places her hand on my chest, she gives me a coy look.
“Please, sir.” She cocks her head to the side like a curious puppy. “Or are you too old to get it up again?”
Christ almighty, I’m hard already.
Did she just say what I think she did?
“You call me old one more time, I’ll take you over my knee,” I tell her.
“Mmmm.”
“You’ll wear me out spanking your little ass,” I say, as I grasp her hips. I can’t get my fill of her and Christ, it looks like the feeling’s mutual.
“Ride me, then,” I tell her. “Like this.”
I lift her up and down my shaft, groaning out loud when her tight cunt clenches on me. The way she moans makes me impossibly harder.
“Jesus, woman.” I grab her nipples and work them to hard peaks, my cock throbbing in her pussy when her mouth parts open with a moan.
“Sirrrr,” she purrs.
“My little kitten.” I knead her breasts and lift her up before slamming her on my cock. “Work it.”
And hell, she does, and it’s fucking glorious. Her head thrown back, shoulders wide open, she rides me like she was meant for this. I’m gonna fucking come again just watching her, and when she groans in ecstasy, I lose all control.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful,” I say, my words tapering off to a groan when I chase my climax. Just when she begins to come down from one orgasm, she gasps, a second climax on its heels. I watch her come with utter pleasure. I’ve staked my claim, and Caroline is mine.
“Come here,” I tell her. She’s still on me. We’re wet, a fucking mess, but I don’t care. I grab the back of her head, yank her face to mine, and kiss her sweet, pouty lips, when a knock comes at the door.
She pulls away and looks at me quizzically.
“It’s dessert,” I tell her. “I told them to leave it outside. Jesus.”
I pull out of her, and toss her my t-shirt to clean up, then yell at the door.
“I said leave it!” I yell, loud enough for whoever’s on the other side to hear.
But instead of leaving it, the knock comes louder.
Is something wrong? I tug on a pair of boxers and hold my hand up to Caroline, telling her to stay where she is, before I trot to the front door. I look through the peep hole. It’s Nicolai. I yank open the door to find him holding a tray and grinning at me.
“You ordered dessert?”
“I ordered dessert left outside this door, douchebag.”
He grins at me and barely dodges my fist as he ducks and slides the tray onto the floor and runs. I’ll kick his ass, the prick.
I come back in with the tray in hand, muttering to myself. Caroline is sitting up in bed, her hand to her mouth, and her eyes are dancing.
“You guys are so funny.”
“You think that was funny?” Christ, maybe I do let her get away with too much.
“Of course it was,” she says with a giggle. I crack a smile. I love when she’s happy. I slide the tray on the table and lift the lid. I nod approvingly at the ptichye moloko. Our traditional bird’s milk cake. Mildly sweet, light as a feather, the sponge cake layered with chocolate and custard is one of my favorites.
“It might have been funny to you, but I’ll kick his ass for that.”
“You won’t,” she says gently, biting her lip. “You guys are like brothers, really.” I watch as her eyes sober and her brow furrows. “I like it.”
“Do you?” She’s such a complex little creature.
I nod, beckoning for her to join me at the little table so we can eat dessert.
“My brother isn’t like that at all, you know,” she says.
I don’t know.
“Oh?”
I hold the chair out for her and this time, she actually laughs out loud. “I’m literally naked, still hot and panting from being fucked, and you’re going to be the gentleman and hold the chair out for me?”
I can’t help but smile when she says fucked. She rarely swears, and it seems almost out of place. It’s cute.
“Of course. A gentleman wears many faces, you know.”
“I’ve gathered that.”
“So, tell me what your brother’s like, then.”
“He rules with an iron fist,” she says with a shrug. “He’s mean and cold and power-hungry.”
I frown. I take the one fork Nicolai gave us and take a large forkful.
“Open.” She obeys, her hands in her lap, and eagerly takes the bite of cake.
“Mmm, they did a good job.”
I take a bite from the same fork and nod in approval. “They did? Or you did? It’s delicious.”
She shrugs. “Well, I may have orchestrated it, but I had help.”
So humble and meek. I could learn from her.
“Did your brother always treat you the way he does now?”
She swallows the next bite I give her before answering. “No. He was kinder when we were younger, when my parents were alive. But over the years, Bratva life has worn him down. He’s become harder. And then he befriended Andros.”
“I see.”
I despise her brother with a vehement hatred reserved for my enemies. How anyone could be bound by duty to a woman like her and fail her is a mystery to me. I don’t realize I’m clenching my fists until she rests her hand on mine.
“Tomas,” she says gently, so gently I almost don’t hear her at first. I blink and look at her.
“Yes?”
Her eyes are pained. “I lost you there. What is it?”
“I hate that you were anywhere near your brother. I hate that I can’t exact vengeance on him now and need to wait until the time is right. I hate that he wasn’t good to you.” I shake my head. “I have no real-life brothers, only the men who are chosen family. And I’d lay down my life for them.”
She runs her thumb over the top of my hand and nods. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. I can see it in the way you are with them. I think it’s one of the things I love best about you.”
Does she know how I feel about her?
How could she?
But as soon as she speaks, she flushes pink and looks away, even pulling her hand off mine. “I didn’t mean to say that,” she whispers, shaking her head.
“What?” I ask. “It’s wrong to show feelings for the man you’re wedded to?”
She shakes her head. “It’s wrong to show feelings for a man you just met.”
“According to whom?”
She shrugs and flushes, shaking her head and opening her mouth to speak, then closing it at once. “I—I’m not sure. Oh, hell.”
She gets up out of her chair and comes to me, all curves and grace and beauty, then slides on my lap facing me. I’m so shocked by what she’s doing that I let her, my hands falling helplessly to the side as she cups my face in her hands and kisses me. She tastes like the cake we just ate, sweet and rich, and I could kiss her all night long. I wrap my hands around her lower back and pull her closer, letting her kiss me as if she owns me, because she fucking does.
She does.
I intended on owning Caroline, but it goes both ways. I’m her husband, her protector, the one who will defend her to the death.
But we belong to each other.
When she finally pulls her lips off mine, she looks at me in surprise. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispers. “I don’t know what came over me. I just—”
I stand with her in my arms in reply and she stops speaking. Her legs encircle me, her naked pussy pressed up against my torso as I walk her to the bed. I lay her down and kneel beside her. Her eyes meet mine, flirtatious and sexy.
She bites her lip before she asks, “Do you have it in you for round three, old—”
“I dare you to say it. Do it. See what happens.”
But she shakes her head.
“Smart girl. Don’t need another spanking?”
Her eyes twinkle. “Not yet.”
I join her on the bed and show her that I’m fully capable of round three.
Three nights later, my phone rings in the middle of the night.
“Boss?”
I’m half asleep, my eyes still half-closed when I answer. It’s Ilya.
“What is it?”
“I’m so sorry to call you this late,” he says. “But I was doing watch by the gate, and there’s something wrong.” I’ve given Ilya nighttime shift this week, and his explicit directions are to call Yakov if anything is amiss.
I sit up in bed. Caroline wakes, her eyes fluttering open. She holds my gaze in quiet confidence but doesn’t speak. It’s like balm to my soul when she looks at me like that. I never knew how alone I was until I wasn’t anymore. It empowers me to have her by my side, knowing that no matter what happens I come home to her soft voice and gentle touch.
“What is it?”
“My replacement was supposed to check in an hour ago for the shift change. His phone is ringing, and ringing and I can’t get him.”
I grit my teeth together. “There are many in our brotherhood you could’ve called before me. Just because one of our men is missing doesn’t mean a damn thing.” I will ring this boy’s neck if he doesn’t settle down and learn his place.
“But that’s just it, sir. I tried all of them. Yakov. Nicolai. Lev. No one answered.”
I scowl into the darkness. Caroline places her arm on mine and gently squeezes. I take in a deep breath.
“All of them?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know who else to call.”
I exhale. “No, you did the right thing. I’ll be right there.”
I hang up the phone and push Caroline’s arm off mine, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I need to find out what the hell is going on.
“Is everything okay, Tomas?”
I nod. “Go back to sleep,” I tell her. “It’s fine.”
She watches me quietly as I step into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. I don’t look at her when I open the drawer beside the bed and remove several handguns. Though she knows exactly who I am and what I do, taking my weapons is a stark reminder of what could go wrong at any minute.
“Tomas,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
“Go to sleep.” My tone is harsher than I mean, but the thought of any of my men being at risk has me on edge. I try to ignore the reproachful look she gives me, and finally turn away. “Now.”
I open the door to make sure the detail outside hasn’t left their positions. Two of my best men still stand at attention when I go to them.
“Have you noticed anything out of place?”
One frowns. “Not anything that indicates danger,” he says.
But in Bratva life, you take nothing for granted. It’s worth missing a night’s sleep for safety’s sake, even if it means leaving the side of the woman I love.
The woman I love.
I’ve kept her apart from my day to day dealings as much as I can, but our lives are too meshed in it to do so fully. And every time something threatens the lives of my men, I’m reminded of where she came from. Of the danger that lurks outside the safety of the compound walls. I’m ready and willing to protect my woman no matter the cost, and my gut says that day may be sooner than later.
I scrub a hand across my brow as I go down the hallway toward the exit, wracking my brain. It’s the middle of the fucking night. Nicolai leaves to go home in a few days and Yakov should be with Yvonne. Or is it Yakov’s turn for night shift watch? We don’t normally even have night shift, but with recent events I thought it wise. As pakhan, I have bodyguards, but I have at least two men on Caroline at all times when she isn’t in my presence.
I try to call Nicolai and Yakov in turn, but both times the phone just rings until I get to voicemail.
Shit.
The compound is nearly silent, save for the silent pacing of those on guard, when I reach the first floor. I go to Ilya first, before I do anything else, but his story is the same. Nothing’s out of the ordinary, but he still can’t get in touch with anyone. The garden wraps around the entrance to our compound, and I see a shadow move. Still beyond the entrance to the compound, but the garden area is clearly marked as private property. No one should be there at this hour.
“Ilya, do you see someone over by the bench?”
“I do, sir. I saw nothing until you came.”
There’s a full moon tonight, illuminating the garden and front walk that leads to the compound. I squint toward it. Who the hell is in the garden this late at night? I blink in surprise when my vision adjusts to the dim lighting.
It’s a woman. Christ. What the hell is a woman doing on a bench outside the compound? The only women allowed anywhere near us should be accompanied by their men.
“Tomas—”
I hold up a hand to silence him. I’ll investigate myself.
I watch as she rises before I reach her. Standing on ridiculously spikey heels, she wobbles in the grass. Is she drunk? The woman wears a skin-tight black leather dress, her thick, wavy blonde hair framing her face. She’s dressed so provocatively; I wonder if she’s a hooker one of my men called. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who’s brought her and left her on our private property. What the fuck is this?
“Who are you?” I demand.
She grins in response. My skin prickles with awareness, as if we’re being watched. There’s something macabre in this night, and foreboding pools in my belly when I approach her.
“The better question is, who are you, handsome?” She places her hands on her hips and I swear she sashays a little, as if she’s beckoning me to her.
“I’m a happily married man,” I say tightly. “And no one’s allowed on this property without permission. Tell me who you are before I call the police.”
She laughs out loud, the sound ringing through the quiet. “Happily married. Oh, that’s rich. As if that matters, handsome. I�
�ve slept with more married men than single. They’re far more eager. And you look like the type that could use it.”
“It matters.”
When I get within a few paces of her, the garden lights, triggered by motion sensors, turn on. I blink in the sudden blinding light, shielding my eyes from it. It’s all she needs. She’s close enough that she grabs my shoulder and yanks me to her. I’m so taken aback, I don’t react at first, stunned by her bold moves. Grabbing the back of my head she anchors herself on me, pulls my head down, and kisses me with one knee hitched up to my side.
Rage boils up inside me. I could hurt her. Christ, I’m afraid I will. I push her away, and it takes every bit of restraint I have not to slap her. But hell, I don’t need a restraining order or assault on my record. Even a man like me would serve time for assaulting a woman, and I don’t need that on my record. I have to be careful.
She has the gall to come closer to me.
“Get the hell away from me.” I push my hands on her shoulders and shove her away. I don’t even feel guilty when she stumbles, barely catching herself on the bench, but she’s laughing as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. I turn around quickly, thinking I hear someone behind me, but when I turn there’s no one there.
“Aw, handsome,” she says, rising to her feet on wobbly heels. “No need to get all worked up.”
I want to hurt her so badly I’m shaking with rage. I pick up my phone to make a call, but it won’t dial out. I bend down, grab her by the arm, and yank her to her feet. It pleases me when her eyes widen in fear and she slaps at my hand.
“Let me go or I’ll scream!”
“Scream all you fucking want,” I tell her. “You’re trespassing, and I don’t know who the hell you are, but you do not belong here. Get the fuck out of my residence.”
Ilya’s by my side.
“What the hell?” he asks.
“Trespasser,” I tell him. “Get her the fuck out of here and make it fucking clear that she’s not welcome to ever come back here.” I shove her toward him, but the second I release her grip, she kicks off her shoes, eludes his grip, and runs.
Ilya takes off after her, but I stop him. “No. Let her go.”
Neither of us needs assault on our records.
