I find myself praying again. Praying for Raisa, and then for Lusha as well.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RAISA
My body starts to shake and pain lances through my arm. I moan, trying to move, but something heavy presses against my middle. There is a low murmuring sound, much like voices. As much as I try, I can’t seem to open my eyes. I’m drug under into a dark sleep once again.
Hours, maybe minutes, no definitely hours, tick by until I attempt to open my eyes again. My arm still hurts, but that heavy sensation against my stomach is now gone. The room is dark and I’m glad, as it doesn’t take too long for my eyes to adjust.
Looking around the room, my breath freezes at the sight in front of me. Sergei is sitting in a chair at the side of my bed, his head tipped down and his hands in his lap. I don’t say anything, content to watch him sleep at my side. It seems as though it’s been a lifetime since I’ve just looked at him. Earlier didn’t count, not with Zakhar acting crazy.
“You’re staring,” Sergei’s deep voice rumbles.
He sounds raspy, husky—sexy. “I am,” I truthfully admit.
Sergei lifts his head, his eyes opening, and his cool blue gaze meets mine. The world melts completely away as he looks at me, watches me. Everything that’s happened in my past, it just vanishes at the sight of him.
My owner.
I’m not ashamed to admit that Sergei owns me. I’m proud to be his property. Proud of how careful he is with me, but how stern he can be as well. However, I never want him to leave me again. It was agonizing, torturous pain.
“Don’t leave me again,” I blurt out.
His brows raise high, almost disappearing into his hairline. I expect him to smirk at me, maybe his lips twitching in the least. Neither of those things happened, in fact, he frowns. I hold my breath, scared of what he’ll say next.
Lifting his hand, he extends his index finger and presses it against my temple before he slides it down my face to the tip of my chin. “Never, sweet Raisa. You’ll forever be at my side unless it’s too dangerous. Then I will protect you, I vow it, krasotka.”
Sergei moves his hand from my chin and slips his fingers into the side of my hair. He gently wraps his hand around my head as his thumb caresses beneath my eye as he watches me.
“I missed you,” I admit.
“I am an old fool. Can you forgive me?”
Tears immediately fall from my eyes and his thumb sweeps away several of them. “Always, Sergei.” I suck in a deep breath before I lose my bravery and I tell him how I feel about him. How I’ve felt about him for a while now. “I love you,” I blurt out.
Sergei’s eyes widen, and a grin slowly appears on his otherwise serious face. He leans forward, his forehead pressing against mine as his eyes slowly slide closed. Mine do the same, I inhale deeply releasing the breath waiting for him to say something—anything.
“I’ve never loved, other than my daughter, and now granddaughter. But a woman? Never,” he states lifting his head from mine.
I don’t want to open my eyes, but I force myself. I keep the tears at bay, though only probably because I’ve cried them all out. He smiles, he looks almost sad, and that’s when I know that this is the end for us. He won’t want me now that he knows how I feel about him. Holding my breath, I wait for the inevitable.
“I can only hope that what I feel for you is love, Raisa. I’ve never known the emotion, and how I feel about you, it is completely foreign. When Zakhar had you, I thought my life was over. I knew I could not go on without you by my side,” he smirks before shaking his head. “Or at my feet rather,” he winks.
My lips turn up and a bubble of laughter escapes. “Yes, always at your feet, Master,” I whisper.
He leans forward, his lips brushing mine and he stays with his mouth against my own. “Nobody will ever touch you again. Not ever,” he rasps.
I’m unable to respond to him, as soon as I open my mouth his tongue fills me. It isn’t a hard kiss, instead, it’s slow. His tongue gently stroking my mouth, tasting every inch of me. His fingers gently tighten in my hair as he angles my head, leaning over to further consume me.
A throat clears somewhere in the room and I whimper, at the same time Sergei grunts as he releases me.
“How are you doing, Raisa?” a man asks. He walks farther into the room. I don’t recognize him. He’s wearing scrubs, and he looks exhausted, I assume he’s a doctor.
“My arm hurts,” I admit.
Sergei growls next to me, but the doctor shoots him a look and walks over to the other side of the bed. He pulls back the sheet and it’s then that I notice my arm is wrapped up in some kind of fabric. “You had a fracture. This is a new brace system that will keep your arm in place, but since your break wasn’t severe you won’t need a plaster cast,” he explains as he looks at my forearm. “How is the rest of you?”
I attempt to move but let out a long moan from the pain. My entire body feels like one giant ache. There isn’t anywhere that I don’t hurt, I think even my toes hurt, I know my hair does. “For all you went through, you aren’t banged up too badly. Things could have been much worse. I’m going to monitor you for today, then by this evening I think you can go home,” he says.
“Thanks, doc,” Sergei mutters.
He dips his chin toward Sergei, then turns to walk out of the room. I watch as he stops once he approaches the door, and glances back to me. His eyes scan me, and he smiles. “You need to get up and walk around a bit. You’ll get too stiff lying in that bed. You’ll be able to help her, Mr. Orlov?”
Sergei grunts, lifting his hand, waving him off. His eyes meet mine and he waits a beat until the doctor is out of the room. “I’ll always be here to help you, Raisa. Now, let’s get you up and moving, I don’t want to sleep in this fucking chair again tonight. We’re going home.”
I can’t stop myself from giggling at his obvious annoyance. I’ve never seen this side of him, and it all feels so… normal. I know we’ll never be like other couples, and I wouldn’t want that anyway. I enjoy what we have, but even in a relationship like ours, I think that it’s refreshing to have some normal moments.
Sergei reaches for my uninjured hand and gently tugs me to sitting. Slowly, I shift so that my legs are dangling over the bed and I inhale a deep breath, bracing myself for what assuredly will be some serious pain. Then, I slowly slide off of the edge. Planting my feet onto the ground, I’m caught off guard when Sergei steadies me by wrapping his hands around my waist.
“Do you need pain medication?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows as he looks down on me with concern.
I shake my head. I don’t need meds. I’ve lived through so much worse than this. I’m just happy to have him here with me. Happy he cares.
SERGEI
I know doc told me that she had to walk around. But as soon as she’s released, I scoop her in my arms and I carry her from the car to the apartment. I watched her wince with every single bump in the road, so I know she’s hurting. I can’t describe how it made me feel to see that, mainly because I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never felt this way before.
“You don’t have to carry me, but I won’t make you put me down,” she sighs, resting her head on my chest as I step into the elevator.
In getting to know my Raisa, I’ve discovered that she is very much the gentle creature I expected her to be at first sight. However, because of her background, she’s also very childlike. I should hate that aspect about her, especially with my age being double her own. I don’t hate it, not even in the slightest. She isn’t immature, she’s actually very mature, but she hasn’t been part of society since she was fourteen years old, in many ways she’s innocent.
“Put her down on the couch. I made it up for her, come now, be careful,” Panya fusses as soon as we walk through the door.
I grumble, following her orders, knowing that if I don’t, she’ll give me hell. “How are you feeling, Miss Raisa?” Panya asks as soon as I gently lay Raisa dow
n on the made-up sofa.
I stand, backing away to allow Panya to sit next to her. I watch her bow her head and press her forehead against Raisa’s. They whisper to one another, and although I’m curious as to what they’re talking about, I also know that it must be private for them to whisper so low and obviously privately.
Taking a few moments to myself, I walk out onto the balcony and dig my phone out of my pocket. I’ve been so consumed with Raisa that I have not checked on Nikolai or his wife. The phone only rings one time before he answers.
“Is she okay?” he barks.
I chuckle, leaning over the banister, looking down at the street below. “She is fine, Nikolai. How are you and your wife?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I took her on a holiday to Greece. We’re enjoying the beach,” he says.
Nodding, I close my eyes, wondering if I should do the same with Raisa. I could use a break, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind healing on a beach somewhere, instead of this stuffy apartment. I wonder if she’d like Italy or the beach in France. If she weren’t so banged up, I would take her to California. I wouldn’t mind seeing my family again, and the beaches were pretty.
“I should be home in a few days, do you need anything, boss?” he asks, breaking up my thoughts.
Clearing my throat, I grunt. “Take two weeks, Niko. You have been through a lot. Zakhar is handled, as is his man, Evgen. There is nothing of importance. I’m going to take some time off as well, make sure Raisa is okay.”
“You know,” he begins, and I want to stop him because I know it’s going to gut me whatever he says, but I don’t. “I’m sure you know how strong she is, but boss. That woman is the strongest fucking woman I’ve ever met. Take care of her.”
Thankfully he ends the call before I can respond. I don’t know what I would say anyway. I know that she is strong. I couldn’t stomach that video to see just how brave she is, because I’m not nearly as strong as she is.
Raisa is my match in every way possible. Stronger than any man I’ve met. More beautiful than any woman I’ve met. Plus, she’s the most naturally submissive creature I’ve ever encountered. Her ugly past has made her perfect for me. I should hate it, but I can’t, because I love it too fucking much.
“She is sleeping,” Panya’s voice floats toward me from the doorway.
Turning around, I rest my ass against the railing and look over at her. “I’m not worthy of her. Of her strength,” I mutter, lifting my hand and running my fingers through my hair.
Panya lets out a sigh. “That woman is indeed strong, but only because she knows she has you at her back.”
I nod in agreement, crossing my arms over my chest and looking up at the sky. It’s a nice day, the sun feels good and it makes me think of Raisa and how she didn’t have the sun shining down on her for so many years. I decide that I’m going to build her a pool at the estate. She can go and sunbathe any time she wishes, without restrictions.
“I should not have left her. I didn’t know what to expect while I was in California. Nikolai warned me, he told me that Zakhar was a threat and I brushed it off. I failed. I failed the Bratva and I failed Raisa.”
“How did you fail the Bratva?” Panya asks.
Shaking my head, I shift my feet. “I’m a poor leader. I could not keep my own property safe. How can I keep the entirety of the Bratva safe?” I ask.
Panya is the only person I would tell these concerns to. I know without a doubt that she would never betray me. The only person on earth who would never. Everybody else can be bought, for a price, but not Panya.
I already own her.
Not sexually, as we have never been intimate, but I saved her many years ago from a life of slavery. She owes me everything and without me, she has nothing. She has been at my side for three decades. She is my eyes and ears when I need her to be, she is my confidant as well. Most importantly, she is my one true friend.
“You are Sergei Orlov. Stop with the self-doubt bullshit,” she barks. My spine straightens a bit more from her words. “Go in there, take care of your woman and get your shit together.”
My lips tip in a smirk. Pushing off of the banister, I walk toward her. Stopping directly next to her, I wrap my fingers around her forearm and squeeze. “Thank you, Panya, for being a friend.”
She snorts. “Friend my ass. If they overrule you, they kill me in the process. I want to save my neck.”
I shout out a bark of laughter, not believing a damn word she’s said. Leaving her outside, I go back in for my woman. That is where I’m needed right now. Tomorrow I will work on the Brava, and as Panya says, getting my shit together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RAISA
Lifting my head off of the pillow, I watch him walk into the bedroom. It’s been a week since I’ve been back. My arm feels better each day, and I’m almost able to move my body without feeling the aches and pains from my fall.
The doctor has returned with all of my test results and has informed us that I’m free of disease, and he also updated my birth control. Apparently, he did blood tests while he checked me out since it was obvious Zakhar had sexually assaulted me. I’m glad he didn’t give me anything, and I’m elated he’s dead.
“You’re home late,” I call out as Sergei attempts to be quiet entering the bedroom.
He walks over to the bathroom and flips the light on. His blue gaze meets mine and I can’t help but give him a bright smile. He looks handsome, even when he’s trying to be stern, which is what he’s doing right now. I watch as he slowly removes his shirt, then his pants and finally his boxers.
My eyes take in his full body, every tattooed inch of him. When I see his starred knees, I sigh. He fell to his knees for me—me. I remember him doing it, I know what it means, and I can’t get the beautiful image out of my head.
I’ve also been sleeping like shit lately. My body is a giant ball of pent-up desire and need mixed with aches and pains. I desire Sergei, and I need to come. Scissoring my legs, then pressing my thighs together, I watch him as he just stares at me. His eyes continuously roam up and down my body. He finally stops, and I hear him inhale a sharp breath.
“Do you need something, krasotka?” he asks, lifting a brow with a grin on his lips.
My breathing comes out in pants, as I gather the courage to tell him what I need. “You, relief, you.”
He nods, walking toward the bed. “You’re still hurt,” he mutters, dipping his chin toward my arm.
Sitting up, I let the sheet fall down, baring my breasts for him and I nod. “I know, but the doctor says the rest of me is pretty much healed, and just to be careful with my arm. Don’t apply too much pressure,” I shrug.
He smiles as he crawls up the bed, stopping when he’s between my thighs. I curse the sheet, and myself for not kicking it off. The barrier between us though it’s only a sheet, feels like a ten-inch thick wall right now.
Sergei lifts his hand, wrapping it loosely around the front of the base of my throat. A sigh escapes and I let my head fall back, surrendering to this man who owns me. “You need diamonds if you’re going to be forever my slave,” he rasps.
His lips touch the middle of my neck and he sucks me gently. My legs spread beneath the sheets and I silently curse the fabric yet again.
“Sergei,” I breathe.
He chuckles, his lips traveling down my throat, then my chest. I whimper when his mouth wraps around one of my hardened nipples. His teeth sink into me and he tugs. I feel the sensation in my pussy, and I actually jerk against his hold. It’s been far too long, weeks, since I’ve felt his touch against my skin, his mouth.
“I will cover your neck with a diamond collar, my collar. Your wrists in diamond cuffs, and your ankles. You, krasotka, will look exactly like the queen you are. The fucking queen of Russia,” he growls against the flesh of my breast.
“I just want to be your queen,” I admit.
He growls, moving down my body, ripping the sheet from me and then his mouth is between my
legs. I cry out, lifting my free hand and threading my fingers through his hair as I hold onto him. Resting my back against the headboard, I watch as he moves between my thighs.
Sergei swirls his tongue around my clit, sucking me gently before he nips me. The slight pain sends a thrill up my spine that I have missed for weeks. “Yes,” I hiss, lifting my hips for more.
His hands wrap around the insides of my thighs and push them open. My muscles burn, and my lips smile. I love it, I love him, and I love the way he makes me ache.
His tongue slips inside of me, fucking me a few times before he returns to my clit. It doesn’t take me long. The next time he bites me, I come. It’s hard and fast, and I find that I mourn the fact that my orgasm came and left so quickly. Sergei kisses up my stomach and then makes his way to my lips, his hands still holding my thighs wide open.
“I missed the taste of you, krasotka,” he whispers against my mouth. I can taste myself, and I lick his wet lips.
I smile, nipping his top lip with my teeth. “I missed the way I taste on your lips.”
He groans, the head of his cock pressing against my center. I expect him to ask if this is okay, if this is what I want. He knows the horror I was forced to do with Zakhar. He has treated me like fine breakable china for over a week.
Apparently, his gentility is over. He slams into me, filling me to the root and I groan when he does. I’m glad he’s finished being gentle with me. I’m ready to be his slave again. Ready to continue with our relationship the way we both like it. Ready to replace memories of Zakhar with sensations of him.
I’m ready to crawl for him—to serve him.
Sergei pistons in and out of me, not giving me a moment to breathe. My arms wrap around his back as I hold onto him. Surrendering to him, I close my eyes and I sigh. He fucks me harder than he ever has before. I smile to myself, knowing that he must have missed me as much as I did him.
Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11) Page 17
