by R. J. Lewis
There are so many things I shouldn’t have done, but I’m too tired to think of them. On weak legs, I crawl back into bed with Scarlett. I check her forehead and skin, and despite the shit-fest I’ve just experienced, I relax in relief.
Her fever is broken. Thank god.
I watch her sleep, mesmerized by her beauty.
How could Mother just walk away from her? From this? How could anyone do it?
Connection and love is everything that matters in this world. I come to realize it with more intensity now that I’ve had the worry of money removed from me. I see things clearer. I understand life in a way I never really did before.
I wrap my arm around Scarlett and pull her into my chest. I’m all she’s got. She’s all I have. I kiss the back of her head and breathe with her.
In and out. In and out.
One breath at a time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight.
I’m low and have this urge to run from everything.
It’s the same sinking feeling I get when I think of taking off in a car and driving away from all this bullshit. I begin to realize it’s a form of escapism, because now I’m not thinking of being on the other side of the country in a different town. Now my form of escape is Nikolai.
I pound on his door. It’s early. I should be at work but I’m not coping. I haven’t been coping since Mom showed up at my door two mornings ago.
I know he’s here. I stopped at the pawn shop and he hadn’t yet arrived. And god, I need to see him. I might implode if I don’t.
I hear movement on the other side of the door, and I know he’s there. I know he’s probably looking at me through his fancy little peephole.
The door swings open a second later. Nikolai stands there, halfway ready, in nothing but his suit pants on, his hair just washed, cheeks wet and freshly shaved.
His eyes burn into mine. He catches my distressed state, a look of concern immediately present in his voice as he whispers, “Alina.”
“I want to come in,” I tell him, my voice breaking.
He opens it wider for me and I hurry past him, moving to the bedroom as fast as my legs will carry me. He follows closely behind, asking me what’s wrong, but I don’t answer him. I kick my flops off in his room and immediately start to strip. I tear my top and shorts off, slide out of my undies and unclasp my bra. He’s stunned by the time I’ve turned to him.
“Alina –”
“I need you to fuck me,” I interrupt. “Now. I want it now.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Alina –”
I cut him off with an urgent kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my chest against his. He kisses me back with the same intensity, his hand already in my hair, angling my head up to him. His tongue seeks mine and the second he tastes me, he groans deep in his throat and ruthlessly deepens the kiss, starving me of oxygen.
I tremble against him, my hand already snaking down his chest, rubbing against his hardening length. The second I feel him, he grips my hand and breaks the kiss. I keep my eyes shut because I know he’s looking at me now, and I can’t confront those piercing blue eyes.
“What happened?” he repeats, harder than before. “I need to know.”
“I just want to forget, Nikolai.”
“Forget what?”
“Everything.” Tears slide down my eyes, and I only end up squeezing them shut tighter. I feel fragile, and I need a hard fuck to remind me I’m not breakable. I want to come whispering his name like a giant ‘fuck you’ to Mother, to Grant, to every dirty fucker that tried to get between my legs.
“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want to see your eyes, rybka.”
I reluctantly open then and blink up at his face. “I’m hurting,” I admit through the lump in my throat.
“Money can’t make you hurt less.”
“I’m not here for money.”
He stills, and the emotion that breaks through his expression is one I’ve never seen in him before. It’s pure vulnerability.
“I’m tired of the lies, Alina,” he whispers, achingly.
I shake my head. “I’m not lying.”
His hand around my hair tightens and he rests his forehead against mine, breathing in and out with me. For a while we stay like that, breathing each other in. I relax more with every second, that wave of sadness receding back into the waters.
He kisses me then, softly this time, his hands roaming down my body, squeezing at my curves. Then he picks me up and walks three short steps to the bed, dropping us down on the mattress. He tears his mouth from mine and kisses down my neck, wrapping his lips around my nipple, sucking on it with little pressure. I tense, awed by the simple teasing touch that’s already driving me insane.
“It was never about money,” he says, blowing on my nipple as his hand flies to his pants. He unzips them and kicks them down his legs. “It was that I couldn’t have you any other way.”
Before I can even question him, he moves down the bed and buries his face between my legs, sucking on my sensitive, wet flesh. I buck my hips up, quivering in the rampant tingles flooding my core.
“I wanted something that would work for the both of us,” he continues, his breaths quickening as he tongues my clit, knowing what pressure makes me tick. “I wanted to take care of you without making you a number.”
I moan, tangling my fingers into his hair and grinding against his mouth. I’m right there. So close I can taste it when he pulls away abruptly. I watch him through bleary eyes as he kicks his briefs off, his cock springing to life. He doesn’t move over me. He closes my legs instead and rests down next to me, gripping me around my stomach and positioning me on my side.
“I wanted it to be simple,” he breathes raggedly, his hand settling between my legs, his finger running up and down my slit. “I kept lying to myself that it didn’t mean anything.”
I moan longer when I feel the head of his cock from behind, replacing his finger.
“I’m a twisted man.” His voice is tight as he nudges into me, letting out a hard breath. “Because I went to that godforsaken shop to perve on the sexy poor girl behind the counter.” He slides straight in, and I gasp at the fullness, pressing my ass against him.
We stay still like that, his cock pulsing inside me, my pussy twitching for movement. It’s incredibly erotic, to have him buried so deep without moving. I’m restless, though, and needy. I keep whimpering as I writhe against him, wanting more.
“What is it?” he torments me, moving the tiniest bit inside me.
“Nikolai,” I moan.
“You know how good you feel?” He nuzzles his nose between my shoulder and neck. “You know how hooked I’ve been since the second I saw you?”
I take his hand and force him to my clit, trying to make him rub me so I can get some kind of release, but he resists instead, running his fingers up my abdomen and between my breasts. He hooks them around my chin and turns my head to him. Then he kisses me roughly, possessively owning my mouth as he finally begins to thrust, relieving the tension between my legs. They’re hard, controlled thrusts. He takes his time, taking me inch by inch, never quickening, never slowing.
“I fucked that girl in my head too many times to count,” he strains out, looking straight into my eyes as he continues to drive into me. “In the most provocative positions, rybka. Positions like this, where I’m so far inside you, I can feel your sweet soul bending to me.”
My mouth widens as an orgasm finally slams into me, but Nikolai doesn’t let me come down from it. Not when he rolls me to my stomach and fucks me from behind. He curses in my ear, his hand sliding between the mattress and my legs. He finds my clit and rubs it as he fucks me, moving fast, triggering those aftershocks inside me, building them back up until I’m bucking my ass against him, moaning through another release.
“I fuck you so many times saying sweet little words in your ear,” he pants, moving out of me and flipping me over. He thr
ows my legs over his shoulders and slams into me. This angle is intense, the sensations more acute. I’m so sensitive, I can hardly take the thrusts he delivers, but then he starts speaking again, those words in that tongue of his sparking more heated tingles. Every inch of me warms, and I cry out again, a pulsing orgasm replacing the last.
He drops my legs back down and covers me with his body. He fucks me slowly now, circling his hips whenever he moves in, his pelvic rubbing against my exhausted nerves. He kisses me softly, over my eyes, on the end of my nose, and lips. His face is tight with agony, like he wants to come but he’s resisting.
“I tell you how beautiful you are,” he groans. “How much I’m hooked on you. How much I’m wrapped around your little finger. How much I hate to see you go when we finish.”
“Nikolai,” I whisper, digging my fingers into the flesh of his lower back, his words pushing me to dizzying heights.
“How much I’ve wanted to take care of you since you put that necklace on.”
He watches me, savours me, taking his time to build me up again. I don’t want it to end. I feel so whole with him inside me. There’s no other man I could ever want. He’s ruined me.
I come hard, and he swallows my cries with his mouth. Then he thrusts harder, a dozen more times before he too stills, a growl tearing through his lungs as he quakes over me. I feel his cock jerking inside me, filling me with him, and I love it.
I love to be marked by Nikolai.
*
I lay over top of him, my leg over his hip, my cheek on his chest. He’s running his fingers up and down my spine. We’re in a position I always felt curious about. I use to see it in movies, read it in books, and imagine it in my head as one of the most intimate positions two lovers could be in. I was right. It’s everything I could have imagined and more.
I run my fingertip over his tattoos and down the bumps of his abs. We’re sweaty and stink of sex, but I can’t stand the thought of detaching from him.
I like you, Nikolai. I want to say. I like you so much, it hurts.
His cock still looks big when it’s placid, and I’m pretty impressed by it. I run my fingertip along the moist tip of it, and he tenses beneath me, letting out a soft breath of air.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go again,” he murmurs to me, amused.
I smile. “You came like a rocket. I think you emptied the tank.”
He chuckles. “Have you seen who I’m fucking? She’ll get any man hard and loaded in a matter of seconds.”
My smile broadens. “That is strangely one of the best compliments I’ve ever received.”
“It’d be a crime not to compliment you, Alina.”
Thank god he doesn’t see my blush from this angle. I keep running my finger up and down his length, watching as he stirs to life again.
Fuck, he’s such a beautiful man.
I like you so much, Nikolai.
“Are you ever gonna reverse your vasectomy?” It’s the most random question that’s ever come out of my mouth with him, but just looking at him now, all I keep thinking is it would be a crime against humanity not to breed little Nikolai’s into this world.
“I’m not keen on the idea,” he answers, unfazed by my personal question.
“Why?”
“I haven’t given it enough thought. The Sokolov removed the possibility. They were determined to keep me focused. They deemed women distractions, and kids were a time sucking responsibility.”
“That’s pretty shitty of them to do.”
“In a way I’m glad they did it. I was with a lot of women, and they weren’t the kind of women you’d want to see as mothers.” He lowers his voice, like he’s talking more to himself when he adds, “There is a lot about that life I cringe about. A lot of things I did that should have me locked behind bars for the rest of my life. I’m not exactly father material, am I?”
I think about his words. “I don’t think you should condemn yourself for what you did and let it rob you of your future. You’re different now. You’re painfully handsome, and you’d make a great father if you wanted to be one.”
“And you’re beautiful, but I don’t think after everything you’ve been through you’re the kind of woman that wants to start a family anytime soon.”
“Scarlett’s my priority,” I try and explain. “And I haven’t really had much opportunity to love life on my own just yet.”
“You don’t need to make excuses,” he replies. “You don’t have to explain shit to anyone about your choices. It’s not selfish to want to live life first before you think about those big steps. You’re young, and there’s no rush.”
I stop moving my fingers and look up at him. He looks back, a tender smile on his lips. I don’t say it, but I really want to.
I really, really like you, Nikolai.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he says later.
I open my eyes and smile against his chest. “Sure.”
*
Nikolai notices the marks on my arms as I’m getting dressed to leave. His content face immediately hardens and he sits up and grabs me by the arm, pulling me to him forcefully.
“What happened?” he demands, running his thumb over the scratch marks from a couple days ago.
I hesitate, knowing he won’t like the truth. I consider lying, telling him it was a stray cat or something equally ridiculous, but he looks up at me and catches my expression. Immediately his face darkens. “Alina,” he fires, “tell me what happened.”
“My mother came around.” I shrug like it’s nothing. “We had an altercation.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to know.”
He pulls me down to his lap and takes my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Of course I’d want to know, Alina.”
“It’s not your business, I didn’t think I’d need to tell you.”
I feel his body tighten. “How many more times do I need to tell you by now, Alina? You are my business. You’ve been my business the second you walked into my store and told me you wanted this. I’m here to take care of you.”
“And you’ve taken care of me,” I stress.
He fumes. “I give you money.”
“And that’s more than enough. I don’t need a knight in shining armour to take care of all my problems. I’m strong enough to do it myself.”
“Strong enough,” he repeats, quietly, looking at me strangely. “But how could you be strong enough if you gave her money?”
I just stare at him, stunned. “How did you know that?”
“Because I know you better than you think.”
Shit.
I drop my face into my hands, groaning into them. It’s one thing to tell yourself you fucked up. It’s another thing when someone you care about – fuck, and I really do care about him – knows it too.
“I just wanted her gone,” I try and explain. “I wanted her gone because…fuck, it was the easiest thing to do. I didn’t want to wake Scarlett up. I didn’t want her to see the state of that woman and have it affect her, because Scarlett still loves her, and she’d be devastated if she got cast aside and abandoned again. So, yeah, I took the easy route. I gave that bitch money, and she’ll come back, won’t she?”
He runs his hand down my spine. “Maybe.”
I stare darkly at a spot on the wall. I’m angry again, because all she does is make me angry. “She ripped my innocence away. She never cared when those men came into our place and they wandered into my room, drunk and feral. I didn’t have someone to lean on. I had to sleep with a knife under my pillow, and I pulled it out every time they tried to do something.” I pause, images flashing through my mind, memories of how terrified I was.
“And Grant? Did he ever try anything?” Nikolai’s words are calm, but I know better than to believe he is.
“Grant did things differently at first,” I muttered, fighting to keep the shakes at bay. “Some days he’d be great, other days he’d make me cra
wl around the unit for food.”
Nikolai’s hand halts in the middle of my back. His body language changes, but he doesn’t say a word. He listens, and for the first time ever I’m actually talking about something I’ve buried so deep inside me.
“He touched me once, when he was drunk. I was sixteen. He followed me to my bedroom, and then climbed into bed with me. He didn’t make it far past touching my legs.”
“Why?”
“I stabbed him.” My lips break into a dark smile. “Got him right in the arm and he stumbled out of there, trying to stop the bleeding.”
“Did he retaliate?”
“No, he’s odd that way. He can be logical one second, and crazy the next. He woke up, stared at me that morning with this…peculiar look on this face, and he never said a word about it. He never touched me again, either, except to backhand me every now and then, but never sexually. I think he was a little afraid of me. I’m nothing like my mother. She would never fight him. I think he understood that, maybe even respected it. It’s fucked up, isn’t it?”
Nikolai shrugs. “I know fucked up, Alina. I grew up in it.”
“Then you know why I’m trying so hard to protect Scarlett. I don’t want her to grow up as fucked up as me. I don’t want her to push people who care about her away. I don’t want that, Nikolai.”
“I know.”
I brush a tear from my eye. “I’ve never talked about this before. It’s weird.”
He pulls me to him, and I let him. I rest my head against chest and close my eyes, breathing him in. He doesn’t have to say sweet words to me. He just needs to hold me like this to make me feel alright.
“I really like you, Nikolai,” I admit quietly, tracing the tattoos along his chest.
My face is burning. It takes a lot for me to say something like that. To be so open. It’s a scary thing.
He takes my hand just then and lays a soft kiss on the inside of my palm. “You have no idea, Alina,” he murmurs, throatily. “You have no idea how I feel about you.”
