by Snow, Jenika
I hoped the motherfucker was in pain.
I could have gone all night on him, beating the shit out of him until he passed out, then bring him back with some salt to his wounds. But I wanted to go to Nadja. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, tell her she was safe, that I’d do whatever it took to ensure that.
Maximillian groaned and tried to lift his head. I’d help the motherfucker out. I walked up to him and gripped his chin, forcing his head up. One of his eyes was completely sealed shut, swollen and black and blue. The other was getting there, but the slit told me he could still see out of it. For right now anyway.
And then he grinned slowly, his teeth stained red, several of them chipped from my fists connecting with them. He spoke in Russian, the words garbled. He started laughing again.
“Say it in English, fucker. Be a man and not a coward.” Maximillian sobered at that. Seemed like the prick didn’t like his ego wounded, even if his body was nothing more than a ragdoll at the moment.
“I said,” he wheezed out, “a part of her will always be mine.”
I kept my focused even despite his words penetrating deep. I took a step back and reached behind me to grab the gun I had tucked in the back of my waistband. I could have gone all night torturing him, but it was time to end this once and for all.
I stared into Maximillian’s “good” eye, placed the gun at his temple, and leaned in close to whisper, “You tell yourself whatever you need to in order to make this easier, but know that you’re nothing but the shit on my shoe.” And then I pulled the trigger, blowing his brains out and letting the sound of the gun going off ricochet in my ears, causing this pleasurable ring to settle deep.
I don’t know how much time passed as I stood there staring at Maximillian’s lifeless corpse, but I could hear my name being called. I blinked back into focus and turned to see my brothers standing behind me. Their expressions were stoic, no shock or disgust over what I’d done, or hell, how I was covered in the blood of my enemy.
I hadn’t tamed the brutality that had come from me and covered Maximillian. It had been five years of anger and pain of not having her by my side. I’d taken out my rage on this piece of shit, the anger I felt toward Petrov, the fact that she was almost forced to be with someone else.
I’d become a primal animal in need for blood, and Maximillian had given me that tenfold.
And as I felt the world slip away, my consciousness fading, I watched as if I were in a tunnel as my brothers went to work on cleaning up the massacre, unhooking him from the rafters to let his body fall to the floor. I wanted to move but felt rooted in place, my heart beating strangely even, calmly. It was as if I were not myself.
I blinked a few times and brought myself back to the moment.
“The woods,” I finally said, and they all looked at me. “We’ll take the fucker to the woods and bury him. Bury him in a lot of fucking pieces,” I finished. And after that, I’d clean up, go to my woman, and be with her in every single way. I had to.
I needed that connection with Nadja now more than anything.
31
Nadja
The sound of thunder, of rain pelting against the house, was loud. It drowned out my own beating heart. It was a companion in a dark moment, in this situation where I didn’t know where reality started and the opposite ended.
I hadn’t been able to sleep, not with how things had played out, not when I knew what Frankie planned on doing. So here I was, sitting on the couch, staring at the wall in the darkened living room. My mind was blank, emotions fading as I just tried to remember to… breathe.
I was afraid, scared of what this meant in the long run, how it would shape Frankie if it would make him climb deeper into himself and become darker.
I worried so much I felt sick from it.
And then I heard the sound of the gate opening, and saw the flash of headlights start to come up the driveway. I shifted on the couch and stared out the window, seeing Frankie’s SUV, my heart racing, my hands shaking. I stood just as he pulled to a stop and cut the engine, the headlights turned off, and everything was plunged into darkness.
I all but raced to the front door, punching in the code to the alarm system—the one Frankie made me memorize before he left. Once I got the beep from the alarm that meant it was disengaged, I unlocked the door and all but ripped it open. The rain was vicious, the wind whipping the water back and forth. I felt the cold, icy stings of it move along my body, but my focus was on Frankie. He took his time walking around the front of his SUV, his head lowered, his entire frame soaked.
He made his way up the walkway to the front door, and only when he was a few feet from where I stood did he lift his head. His step faltered slightly when he saw me. His dark hair was plastered to his head, this haunted look covering his eyes.
My heart ached, my stomach clenched, and I said nothing as I took a step back and he entered. I slowly shut the door, closing off the weather, the moonlight, and trapping us in. This iciness clouded everything, but I felt this heat consume me. I didn’t want to ask what happened with Maximillian. I knew.
I felt it.
I could still smell the blood coating Frankie, even though there wasn’t a drop on him.
I sensed the death coming from him.
He stood there and stared at me, the rain dripping off the ends of his dark hair, his head slightly downcast yet his eyes locked on me. The shadows surrounded him, making him seem ominous, but I knew he’d never hurt me.
“Frankie…?” I didn't know what to say. I wanted to ask about tonight, about if Maximillian was dead, even though I already knew the answer. But before I could have said anything, Frankie was stalking toward me. I backed up, the door stopping me. He was a foot from me, his body so big, so intimidating.
I felt like a mouse about to get devoured by a lion.
The longer he stared at me, the more I saw an array of emotions pass across his face.
Void.
Anger.
Anguish.
Heat.
My heart stopped in my chest when he lifted his hand and placed it against my cheek, his touch so gentle despite the roughness that came from him. I couldn’t help but lean into his touch, as if my body knew—sought—the warmth that came from him.
He stared into my eyes for long seconds, and I didn't think he even breathed. “I wish I could be a better man for you, Nadja. You deserve so much better.”
I was shaking my head before he even finished speaking. “I love you just the way you are,” I whispered. “I know who and what you are. I know what you’re capable of. I love you no matter what.” He leaned in close and rested his forehead against mine. “And you know who and what I am, who my family is, what they are attached to.” I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly.
“I love you still. No matter what. I love you still.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt tears well up. I knew he killed Maximillian to protect me. I knew he’d do it over and over again. He didn’t have to say the words. He didn’t have to say anything, because love was all we needed.
“I don’t know how to be the man you deserve.”
I pulled back and lifted my hands to cup his cheeks. His scruff moved along my palms. “I only need you, Frankie. That’s all I’ve ever needed.”
He let out a stuttering breath right before he crushed his body to mine, running his lips down my neck, sucking at my pulse point. He murmured incoherent things, yet they were endearments. I felt that so deeply my body shook.
I’d never loved anyone but Frankie, and I knew I'd never love anyone else in my lifetime.
“Nadja,” he sighed and brought his mouth to mine. The kiss started off slow, but I felt the intensity in him, the need to make this fast and rough… consuming.
My breasts were pressed tightly against his chest, and I slid my hands over his biceps to grip the soaked material of his shirt. I felt his muscles ripple beneath my touch, felt his body shake because of me.
He slowly moved his hands do
wn to cup the cheeks of my ass, squeezing the mounds before pulling me harder against him forcefully. A gasp of pleasure left me. The feel of his cock, hard and insistent against my belly, had me moaning against his eager mouth, needing so much I could be high and drunk off these feelings.
He tightened his hold on my ass once more and then was lifting me up. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, and I heard a strangled groan escape him as my pussy came up in direct contact with his raging hard-on.
“I need you,” he grunted against my mouth, and I moaned in agreement.
“I need it fast and hard, baby. I need you to let me take you this way.”
“Yes,” I hissed in pleasure, needing that too, feeling this electricity swirl around us. We were both raw and vulnerable. We needed this connection. “Then take me. Take me to bed, Frankie.”
He fucked my lips, pushing his tongue inside, devouring me, consuming me. I felt this wild animal in me as I started tearing at my clothes. He did the same, all but ripping the rain-drenched shirt from his body then going for the button of his jeans. He pulled the zipper down, didn’t bother pushing down the denim, and just pulled his cock out.
Then he was right back against me, his hands on my waist for only a second before he flipped me so my chest was to the door. He popped my ass out, and for a moment, he didn’t move. I looked over my shoulder and saw his eyes were locked on my ass.
“I can’t be gentle,” he murmured as he slid his eyes up from my bare ass to look at me.
“I don’t want gentle.” Not right now. “I just want you.” He didn’t wait for me to respond, just kicked my legs out with his foot, slid a hand over my hip to span my belly, and angled me ever-so-slightly so my breasts were still against the door, but my lower half was out and at the ready.
“What do you want?” he demanded and gave one cheek of my ass a stinging slap.
I gasped in pain and in pleasure. “I want you to fuck me.”
He hummed in arousal and slapped my other ass cheek. “Yeah? What else?”
“I want you inside me.” The only thing I cared about right now was feeling Frankie shove all those hard inches into me and fuck me roughly.
He slipped his hand down my belly and lower still until he was sliding the digits through my slit. I rose on my toes just as he entered me. My pussy was greedy for him. I sucked at his fingers, the inner muscles clenching around them, seeking something thicker, more substantial. He finger-fucked me in even, long strokes at the same time he ground his erection against the small of my back. I felt the wetness from his pre-cum soak my skin.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I opened my eyes, realizing I closed them as the pleasure became too much. My head was still to the side, my cheek against the door. I tilted it more so I could see his face. He pulled his fingers from my body and held them up. The dim lighting allowed me to see how glossy those digits were. And then he brought them to his mouth and sucked my juices off. The sight was highly erotic and caused a gush of moisture to leave me. I clenched my thighs to try to stem off the arousal.
The pressure just made it worse.
He had his hand on my waist again then I felt the tip of him at my pussy hole. I held my breath as I waited for him to slam into me. That’s what I wanted… needed.
He growled low in his throat, and in one swift move, he buried himself deep within me.
The pleasure-pain was bittersweet, and I curled my hands against the door, my nails scraping the wood. My pussy would be sore come morning, and that very thought sounded so incredible that I pushed back against him right when he retreated, causing Frankie to sink back into me.
“Christ,” he roared out, his hands painful on my waist.
He fucked me so hard my body slammed against the door every time he pushed back into me. I moaned, mewled like a wounded animal. I needed more.
Frankie was like a machine as he pistoned in and out of my body. The sting of pain from his powerful thrusts coupled with the pleasure of another mounting orgasm had me slamming my hips back against him. And when he slid his hands over my sides and up my chest to cup my breasts, I bit my lip hard enough I tasted blood.
He pinched and tugged at my nipples, all the while never stopping his frantic thrusting.
“Frankie,” I cried out as I felt myself climb higher.
He responded with a growl. His hips pressed faster, harder. His fingers tugged on the peaks of my breasts to the point of pain. And when I didn’t think I could take any more… he sent me over the edge.
“You were made for me, Nadja.”
Yes. I. Was.
He let out another deep, primal growl, and I whimpered in response. I came for him like I’d never come before. He thrust into me once, twice, and on the third time, Frankie bottomed out in my body.
He came right along with me.
I knew what Frankie was capable of. I knew the lengths he’d go to get what he wanted, to protect those he loved. It didn’t frighten me. It didn’t turn me away.
It had me welcoming him home with open arms.
32
Frankie
A couple weeks later
I was so damn nervous. I pulled at the collar of my shirt, the fucker feeling like it strangled me. I was sweating, my heart raced, and I felt like I was going on my first date. I supposed in a sense that was the truth.
I hadn’t been with a female, hadn’t dated one, had interest in one, hell, hadn’t fucking taken to one aside from my brothers’ women in the last five years. Since before Nadja. And before her? Fuck, I didn’t even remember.
But now that things were relatively calm, the threat to her gone, I wanted to get back to where we were. I wanted to wine and dine her, show her off, let everyone know the girl on my arm was mine.
I heard the bedroom door open, heard the sound of her shoes clicking softly on the floor. I felt my muscles tighten as I rounded the corner so I could watch her come to me.
And then there she was.
God. Look at her. My heart stopped. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I had a hand on my chest, right over my heart. I couldn’t have taken my focus off her if my life depended on it.
She walked down the hallway, wearing this little white lacy number. It had to be new, because I’d never seen her wear the dress before. I’d sure as fuck remember her looking so gorgeous. The dress was sleeveless, the detailing around the edges feminine and making my heart palpate. She wore these little black heels that showed the tips of her toes. Peep-toes, she’d called them. Her nails were painted red, a splash of color against an otherwise innocent shade that adorned her.
Nadja stopped a few feet from me, and I was speechless. Her cheeks were painted pink, and her lips had a light gloss on them. She was stunning.
“You look beautiful,” I finally managed to get out and cleared my throat.
Her face turned pink from my compliment, and she said, “Thank you,” in the sweetest fucking voice.
I started tugging at the collar of my shirt again. She reached up, placing her hand over mine, stilling my nervous movements.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s just me,” she said softly and rose up to kiss me.
And just like that, my body started to ease, that anxiousness sliding into the background.
“I just want everything to be perfect,” I said, and closed my eyes. Fuck, there was nothing better in this world than holding my girl.
She gave me one more kiss and then pulled back, still holding my hands. “It’s always perfect when I’m with you.” She gave me this sweet smile.
I felt like I was falling in love with her all over again every single day.
“You know,” she said almost shyly, seductively. “We could always just stay in... stay in bed.”
And just like that, my cock went ramrod-straight. The fucker was digging into the zipper of my slacks, as if telling me that was the best fucking thing he’d ever heard. She started biting at her bottom lip, and I reached out to
gently pull the flesh from her teeth, her lip coming free from the gentle hold of her straight, white teeth.
“That’s tempting as hell, and I’m barely hanging onto myself as it is, but I want to take you out, Nadja.” I took a step closer, slipping my hand behind her neck, curling my fingers against her warm, silky skin. I leaned down until we were eye-level, my lips so close I knew when I spoke she’d be able to feel the brush of my flesh against hers. “But afterward... when we’re back home,” I moaned those words, “I’m taking you to bed and fucking you all night long.” I felt her shiver against me, felt the warm, almost frantic puffs of her breath against my mouth as her pleasure heightened.
I kissed her then, nothing overly sexual—even if I was sporting a massive, steel erection right now. The kiss was a promise that meant I wanted to get back to where we’d been. I wanted to erase the last five years we’d been apart.
I wanted her as my wife, the mother of my children. I wanted her soul linked to mine forever. The ring box in my pocket seemed heavy, the reality of proposing tonight something I’d been wanting to do for so long. So long.
And tonight was the night. Too much time had passed for us to waste another minute. She loved me, and I loved her, and I wanted her wearing my ring. I wanted my last name tied to her.
I wanted it all.
Could Nadja see that when I looked at her, I was utterly, hopelessly lost for her?
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to express to her how I felt with words. Love was such a tame word compared to my feelings for her, for the lengths I’d go to keep her mine.
I’d do anything to protect her. I killed to make that so. And I’d do it again and again. And as I stared into her green eyes, as I let every single emotion take root in me, for the rest of my life I told myself I’d have to show her until the day I died just how important she was to me.
