We are just breathing here in unison in complete silence as I imagine what it would be like to let go of all of my walls with him and just let him kiss me. I realize that we both lied in a way, both hid who we were for our own selfish reasons, reasons that make it necessary. I don't know if we will ever be the same as we were before or live up to what I thought we were becoming, but I don't know if I want him to hold back anymore, not when it comes to this part of us. After all this loneliness, it would be nice to be touched, to be wanted by someone.
Anton moves the bag of peas away from my face, setting it on the counter behind me. He looks at my swollen cheek and reaches out his hand to touch it, brushing his hand up against it. I wince and grimace as he hits a particularly sore spot. “You have a nasty cut too,” he says, and that’s when I realize that must be why it hurts. Rusev must have caught me with a fingernail when he slapped me.
Pulling away, he picks the bag of peas back up and puts them back in the freezer as I watch him with curious eyes. I wonder what he is really up to here.
He starts digging in the lower cabinets in the kitchen until he finds what he is looking for; a first aid kit. He pulls it out and digs through it, getting what he needs out on the counter to help me. I don't think I have ever had my cuts treated by someone close to me before, not like this, and the idea of it seems so intimate.
He starts with alcohol pads, taking them to the cut on my face and my hand from where the bottle got me. Luckily, that nick is a smaller one and stings a little less. Then, Anton dabs antibiotic ointment on both of my cuts. “This could scar, especially if we don't keep taking care of it,” Anton says softly.
I scoff at that, thinking of the one I already have on my jawline. Rusev will never leave me for that reason, the memory never fully gone. I will see him for the rest of my life every time I look in the mirror. “Add it to the list of ones I already have,” I tell him. I mean it as a joke to lighten the mood, but I realize after I say it that it is in pretty poor taste and doesn’t work at all.
Anton does not look amused, and I watch him as he finally gets it. His mouth opens just a bit in the realization finally at how I got this thing on my jaw he asked me about before. He knows who hurt me. “Is Rusev the man that cut you?” he asks me, even though I know he already knows the answer to that, it is so obvious now. So much of me is laid bare without my permission.
I nod and look him in the eyes. “I don't like to talk about my past, Anton, especially that part of it,” I explain to him. It wasn't something I ever wanted to tell him, but he knows now, so what does it matter? “It was too gruesome, and I could have done better, could have left earlier. It took him marking my flesh in order for me to find a way to leave,” I tell him, disgusted at myself for this. I always will be a little.
“I am sorry for how I treated you in the car, saying nothing of comfort and then jumping out like that. It was wrong of me,” he says. I can’t help it, it makes me laugh. That is the last thing he should be apologizing for.
“The silent treatment is not what you should be apologizing to me for,” I tell him through my dark laughter. “You should be sorry for calling me a whore, for treating me so badly earlier,” I make it known to him. He needs to know what his behavior made me feel if he ever wants to move past it. “Something that actually hurt my feelings,” I whisper quietly. “Don’t you ever call me that again.”
“I won’t. I am sorry, I didn't know it would hurt so bad, didn't understand what you had been through. I was just trying to make a point, and I took it a little too far.” He sounds sincere to me, and then he pulls me against him again, right to his body. His lips land gently against my temple. He dips his head back and kisses me softly. He is being so careful as to not cause me pain.
This is what is so confusing to me, that there are times when Anton is the biggest dick on the planet-quite literally, considering he is hung like a horse. Then, there are other times when he is so caring, and it seems genuine to me. Like the way he is holding me right now, there is kindness and passion he does not seem capable of in other moments. How do I reconcile the two?
“I need to know who you are,” I beg of him. “Which man you are with me. I can’t change the way you treat others or the way you run your Clan, but I need to know what to expect if anything is ever going to continue,” I tell him, annoyed at myself for possibly breaking the moment. But it had to be said.
“I don't know how to tell you,” he admits to me, and I see it in him, some kind of wall I am just picking out pieces of to tear away. I don't know how much it will take for it to fall completely. “I don’t even know myself right now, but I am trying. I can try.”
“Then, why don't you show me?” I challenge him, standing there and feeling the tension growing between us yet again. That's when he pulls me back in for another kiss, one with passion, but still gentle. He is still, even in our lust, completely aware of my injuries and how he could hurt me. That tells me something, a little bit of what I need from him.
I let him lift me up and take me into the bedroom, my bedroom, the one I have been sharing with him for many nights, though, I am not supposed to notice it. At least, I don’t think he meant for me to know.
He lays me down on the bed, and he undresses first as I watch. It is disarming seeing him without clothes on again. I had almost forgotten how sexy he was with his broad shoulders and his perfect chest, right down to his huge cock that is nice and erect for me. He looks down at me in my pajamas and runs his hands along the bare parts of my legs taking his time and enjoying the moment I see something different in his eyes when he looks at me, and it puzzles me. Everything about Anton puzzles me.
It is almost as if he is asking permission when he begins to slide my shorts and panties down, so painfully slow. I don't stop him. I simply do not want to. And maybe this is part of the new me, the one that doesn't give in or get walked on by men, I have the right to choose what I want, when I want, and right now, I do want Anton. I want him inside me, filling up my loneliness and pain with pleasure.
After my shorts hit the floor, his attention is onto my top, and I lift up a bit, helping him to get it off without hitting my cheek, though the sting is getting better with the fact that my thoughts are elsewhere.
My body is on the bed, the body I have given to the wrong man before, and yet, Anton still looks at me like I am a goddess. I can’t say it doesn't get to me, make me feel something, the way he worships me with his eyes alone. And then his hand follows suit, exploring me. Instead of jumping the gun and simply fucking me, he takes the time to be sensual. He starts with the scar on my jawline, and somehow, I find him tracing it to be sensual, maybe even loving, before he moves down my neck and across my collarbone.
There are no words, and I don't dare speak and ruin whatever it is that’s passing between us, his eyes shine like beacons when he slides his finger along my chest where my heart is, causing a slight tingle to ignite in my nerves. He keeps on moving down, his hands massaging my breasts, and I close my eyes as he rubs my nipples with his thumbs. They are getting hard and sensitive, and I moan softly, getting lost in the feeling. Only, it doesn't last.
Anton just keeps upping the ante as he follows the center of my stomach down to my navel and traces a slow circle around it. A small fire starts to build inside my abdomen, an ache is coming from deep within as I lift my knees up to greet him.
I open my eyes to see Anton smiling at me before continuing his trip around my body, landing on my groin, and I gasp. He is working me up and getting me so wet for him. He slips a finger inside of me, and my eyes go wide, my back arching as he slowly slides his middle finger in and out of my wanting center, my need drips out onto him the more he works at me and opens me up. I pump my hips into him as he continues to finger fuck me, inserting two fingers now instead of one.
This moment is all about me, and I can feel myself losing control as I grab the bed sheets in my fists, my legs beginning to quiver and threatening to shut on him with the intensity of t
he electricity going through my blood.
I shake to my climax, cum saturating his hand as he pumps into me until the very last drop is spent and I relax against the bed again. I sigh in satisfaction, but I know this is not over. At least, I hope it isn’t.
Anton climbs all the way onto the bed, each hand of his landing on either side of my head. His cock is brushing up against me, and it’s hard to pay attention to anything else as he dips his head low to my ear just the way I like. As he nibbles and licks at the lobe, he whispers something to me I do not expect, and it only makes this experience one I will probably remember for a long time. “I will always protect you, Natasha,” he says. “Nothing bad will ever happen to you as long as I am around.”
Something in the way he says it, makes me believe him, that he will make sure no other man hurts me again, or anyone else for that matter. I hope it applies to himself as well.
He slips inside of me, and I sigh, relaxing against him as he pushes his way in, all the way in, filling me up with his glorious cock. This is one of the only redeeming qualities I have found in this man, and while it is not all about sex when it comes to these things, his gigantic shaft certainly helps.
I pull him in closer by wrapping my legs around his hips, his name escaping my lips as he continues to thrust inside of me, slowly, making this moment together last. I pull him up to my lips and kiss him, not holding back as my tongue slips into his mouth and explores it, every nook and cranny. His taste is sharp, almost like copper or some kind of metal, but I like it, and I run my fingers through his dirty blonde hair. Anton gifts me a moan into my mouth before he sucks my bottom lip in, making it swell pleasurably.
I take my other hand and run my nails down his neck and then to his back, raking them and leaving my mark there as he thrusts a little harder into me. Anton pulls up, so he can look into my eyes, and I feel my heart opening up again, little by little as he watches me locked in ecstasy with him on top of me. I allow myself to remember what I felt before all the shit with my uncle and the Clans went down, and I think maybe, maybe we can get back to that, if only we are willing to share who we are with one another.
Chapter 14
Chemistry is you touching my arm and setting fire to my mind.
- Nayyirah Waheed
Anton
I wake up yet again to find myself wrapped around Natasha like my life depends on it. The only difference is, this time, she knows about it. I didn't have to sneak into her room late at night after she fell asleep or try and get up before she did, so she wouldn't know what I had done. I didn't have to feel like I couldn't have what I wanted with her. This is real.
Her skin is warm against me, and there is sweat from us both that sticks to my chest as I gently pull away. After last night, I don't want to disturb her or outward my welcome in here. So, I pick my clothes up off the floor and give her space as I go to use the large ensuite bathroom in the master bedroom.
I hop in a quick shower because I want to feel fresh and look good for her when she wakes up to have a late breakfast with me. I want what we had going last night to continue. In fact, I want it badly enough that I have a phone call to make once I am out of here.
I take the bar of soap and slide it over my skin, each part of it still sensitive from being on edge the night before. She does that to me, leaves me always wanting more and on edge. It’s one of the many things that is special about Natasha Kolosov.
My hand reaches down to scrub the most intimate part of me, and I close my eyes, remembering how it felt to be inside of her once again. It was heaven, the way her pussy was so wet and warm and tight.
So, fucking tight.
It will never get old. I know it won’t, and she will be mine because I have a plan.
My mind was on alert last night, even as she drifted off into a sound sleep with me holding her. I thought about all I had learned, the abuse she has endured in her life and how she has all this powerful family I didn't know about before. And that is my way in. Her name is Kolosov. Her father is Sergei Kolosov, and I have more of a direct line to the man than his own daughter does through his dealing with the Clans. I can use my position in Clan Balan and Clan Constantin to make her mine and use her father to do it. I only hope she will not hate me for this because I need her to keep opening up to me and getting closer like we did last night. I don't want her to fear me anymore, not in the way she did when she saw me with my gun in my hand aimed at her uncle
I get out of the shower and dry off, wrapping the towel around my waist as I go to retrieve my phone from the bedside table where I left it charging the night before. Before I ended up in the kitchen with Natasha. I am about to make a phone call that could change my life forever, Natasha’s life. It could change a lot of things. I don't know what it is that makes me think I am worthy of any of this because honestly, I am not. I have done terrible things and will honestly continue to do bad things for the sake of the Clans and my position in them. I have also done bad things when it comes to Natasha. Those, I am sorry for. I have taken my power over her too far, and it took watching some sick fuck torture her at a party for me to get it. But none of it is going to stop me from trying.
Natasha is of worthy Romanian blood, for certain, having been related to a Constantin. She also has this exclusive status as the daughter of Sergei. She will surely inherit his business when the man dies because he would never trust anyone outside of his family to run it. He likely does not have the qualms about a woman taking over that the Clans seem to. Add that to the fact that she has to be the sexiest woman I have ever seen, inside and out, and I have the perfect woman in my grasp. The perfect union, actually.
I go into my office and shut the door, putting my legs up on my desk. I need to stay calm through this phone call if I am going to convince this man that he needs to let me marry his daughter.
I dial the number I know will get me to him, eventually. I have to go through a few of his men and then his secretary first; Luckily, the woman doesn't make me leave a message with her, she goes to put him on the line immediately, the moment I mention Natasha’s name. I wonder why I haven't already heard from him, how he doesn't know that Jan is dead and Natasha is with me. For all I know, he has been waiting for a call like this. He is a smart man, even if he is ruthless.
“This is Sergei,” he says in his strong accent. Even his voice is intimidating. I have rarely dealt with him directly. I am shaking in my towel here as I make sure the words come out right.
“Mr. Kolosov, it is Anton Balan,” I tell him, waiting for it to register with him.
“Ah, you are the Clan leader that has my daughter,” he says, and I can’t tell if there is any emotion there. He is too good at this.
“That is true. Natasha is with me, though, I will admit I did not know she was your daughter at the time she came to live with me,” I tell him, using my words wisely.
“I take it this call is about her, especially if you say she is living with you. That is quite a different story than the one I have heard, but I know the Clan knows how to spread falsehoods like wildfire,” he tells me.
This is my shot. This is my chance to convince him, “I want to make a deal with you, Mr. Kolosov. I want to ask your permission for your daughter's hand in marriage.”
The man laughs, actually laughs. “I can see the advantages you would have in this union, but what is it you can offer me in return, Mr. Balan?” He says my name mockingly. I am not surprised and don't dare insult him or call him out on it in any way. I would like to keep my life.
“In exchange for your daughter, Clan Balan and Clan Constantin, which I currently have control over, will use you exclusively when buying arms,” I tell him, and I know when he is silent for a moment I have piqued his interest.
“Well, Mr. Balan, it sounds like you have yourself a deal, but be warned that I will be stopping by for a visit soon to check on both of our investments.” He hangs up, and my heart is thumping in my chest. I have just been given Natasha Kolosov.
&nbs
p; I can finally keep good on my promise. No one will ever harm her again.
Chapter 15
Sex alleviates all tension. Love causes it. - Woody Allen
Natasha
A lunch date! I am on a lunch date with Anton.
When he asked me to go with him and picked out something reasonable for me to wear, I didn't know what to think of it. He took me out to a little cozy restaurant where we sat in a secluded corner to ourselves, a curtain pulled almost all the way around us. The menu was full of delicious authentic Italian and Greek fare, and it set my stomach rumbling right off the bat.
After I ordered and gave the menu back to the waitress, I found that Anton was staring at me, surveying me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask him, feeling self-conscious for the first time in our relationship. This is a totally different setting than I would picture us in after all I have learned about him and what he does, and we also just reconnected the night before. Maybe this is what falling in love is supposed to feel like; nerves and butterflies rather than razor blades and death. That's what it felt like with Rusev, though I didn't realize it at the time.
“I was just studying you. I realized that I still know so little about you. I know you said you don't like to talk about your past, but I would like us to get to know each other better, you know, outside of the bedroom,” he says, shocking me to my core.
“Oh, but isn't that the fun part?” I joke. I know he likes my wit anyway.
“There is that smart-ass mouth of yours again,” he says, but he is smiling when he does.
“I think you like this smart-ass mouth.”
“Yes, and everything attached to it.”
I sip at my drink as my smile fades, turning serious. He is right, that we should get to know each other. That is the only way this relationship won't fail again is if we do it the right way. “Okay, so if I tell you something about me, then you have to do that too. This has to be both of us, or it isn't fair,” I tell him. He holds up his hand like a boy scout to let me know he plans on following through. “Then, what do you want to know?”
The Trade Page 9
