Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners)

by Marita A. Hansen

  Not believing him, she took another bite, feeling a dribble of yogurt running down her chin. Before she could wipe it, Sasha reached over the table and thumbed it away, his touch lingering for a moment too long. Smiling, she went to suck his thumb into her mouth, but he whipped his hand back, his face turning beet red. She found it strange that he could be so harsh and forthright, but when it came to anything sexual, he either pushed her away or blushed like a schoolboy. She wondered whether he was a virgin, especially since he’d mentioned being celibate.

  “Well, you going to feed me?” he asked a bit too harshly.

  Biting back another smile, she reached forward and scooped up more of his porridge, holding it out for him to take. Keeping his eyes down, he closed his mouth around the spoon, pulling it off.

  “Why are you celibate?” she asked.

  Porridge sprayed out of his mouth. He coughed and wiped his face, giving her a glare. “Why did you ask that?”

  “Because I’m curious.”

  “Well, it’s none of your business, so keep your stupid questions to yourself and feed me.”

  “Not until you tell me why you’re celibate, because, Sasha, you were getting turned on then.”

  “I was not!”

  “Then why are your cheeks bright red, and why do you keep looking at my mouth like you want to devour it?”

  “You look at my mouth too.”

  “Because you have very sexy lips.”

  “No, I don’t,” he snapped.

  She smiled. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can act like a baby.”

  “I don’t act like a baby,” he said, indignantly.

  “You’re right.”

  He nodded his head emphatically. “You bet I am.”

  “Because you act more like a teenage boy, one who’s never had sex.”

  “I’ve had sex!”

  “Why are you yelling?”

  “You’re insulting me.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  “Well, it sure as hell felt like it.” He pushed out of his seat and went to the bed. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “I haven’t, so feed me.”

  “Feed yourself, woman.”

  “I’m not allowed to and don’t get petty.”

  “You should’ve thought about that before getting into an argument with me.”

  She exhaled. “Okay, I’m sorry. Just come back and feed me.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, I apologized. I can’t do much more than that.”

  Grunting something in Russian, he got up and grabbed his tray. He headed for her side, barking, “Move over.”

  “Play nice,” she said, shifting for him.

  “I will as long as you don’t talk to me.”

  She smiled. “You’re amusing sometimes.”

  “I said no talking!”

  “Were you some kind of leader before being imprisoned, because you love barking orders.”

  “What part of no talking don’t you understand?”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll keep quiet.” Although she didn’t want to. Instead, she wanted to talk and talk and talk; anything to stop her thinking about the cameras.

  Needing to distract herself, she scooped up more of his food and held it out for him to take. He swallowed the porridge down faster than the speed of light as though he was afraid she’d get turned on.

  “My turn,” she said, his reaction making her smile.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “Am I permitted to speak now?”

  “Don’t get cheeky with me.”

  “I beg your pardon, signore, for smiling and being cheeky,” she said, laying on the sarcasm. “I’ll make sure to ask your permission next time.”

  He scowled at her. “You’re pushing your luck.”

  She didn’t reply, although she was a breath away from telling him where he could stick his shit attitude.

  He gave her a satisfied nod, looking like he thought she’d capitulated, then speared more of her fruit. He dipped it in the yogurt and held it out for her to take. She didn’t take it, too annoyed to eat. She didn’t know how he could make her smile one second, then make her want to hit him over the head the next.

  Clueless to her change in mood, he moved the food closer to her mouth. “Take it, you said you wanted it.”

  “I want more than food.”

  Scowling at her, he retracted the fork. “If you’re talking about sex again—”

  “I’m not! I’m talking about comfort. Our situation is bad enough without you making it worse. Why can’t you make our time in here a little more bearable rather than arguing with me all the way?”

  “You irritate me.”

  “You irritate me! But at least I try to be friendly, and if you tried, maybe we wouldn’t argue so much.”

  He shifted in his seat, looking like he didn’t know what to say.

  She pressed on, “Also, stop sending me mixed messages. If you want to kiss me, kiss me, instead of getting snippy with me.”

  “You don’t understand my background.”

  “Everyone has a background.” She breathed out, hers a Pandora’s Box of trauma. Her mind went to a group of soldiers who’d gotten hold of her during the mafia war. She clenched her hands at the memory, wishing she could forget what had happened, like she did with so many other things. It was ironic that she forgot about things she wanted to remember, yet she could recall every detail of that day. Maybe that was why she talked so much: to blot out all the shit her mind failed to purge.

  “I’ve been hurt by a number of men,” she pushed on, “yet I refuse to let that stop me from doing what I want, because I refuse to let those bastards define my whole life.”

  “Then why do you want to have sex with me?” he asked, his expression tense. It looked like he was also remembering something from his past, something he most likely wanted to forget too.

  “I told you this isn’t about sex.”

  “Everything is about fucking sex!” he snapped, his unexpected outburst making her jolt.

  “It’s not to me.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. All this talk about comfort and friendliness is a ploy to make me cave into you. Next thing I know you’ll be climbing onto my dick.”

  She screwed up her face. “You have major issues if you leap from me being friendly to trying to fuck you. Have you been abused?”

  He scowled at her. “Don’t try to put this one on me. You constantly come onto me.”

  “I do not.”

  “You did when you were drunk, even whacked my ass.”

  “I lose control when I get drunk, do things I normally wouldn’t. Plus, you lose control constantly. You’ve got one hell of a temper.”

  “Because you keep pushing me, like everyone else does, until they get what they fucking want. Well, you’re not getting shit from me, so fuck off!”

  Andriena placed her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands, unable to hold back the tears, his cruel outburst the last straw.

  “Stop crying,” he barked. “I’m not putting up with another day of it.”

  “I can cry if I fucking want to,” she yelled, flinging her hands away.

  “There’s no need to lose your shit just because you can’t get your way.”

  “That’s rich coming from you!” She pushed out of her seat. “And I never get my way. I’m here, aren’t I? Sharing a room with a complete bastardo, who can’t understand I was just trying to get through another hour in here without losing my fucking mind.”

  “Looks like you’ve already lost it, cyka,” he snarled.

  “You think this is crazy? You’ve seen nothing yet, baby.” She picked up his bowl of porridge and threw it at him. He ducked, the plastic bowl narrowly missing his head, only the spray of porridge hitting him.

  He jumped to his feet, flinging a glob of porridge off his face. “You crazy cyka! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You! This place. Every-fucking-thing!”<
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  She picked up one of the water bottles and threw it at him too. He caught it, squeezing it so hard she thought it was going to burst. But instead, he popped open the cap and washed the porridge off his face. As he did it, he babbled in Russian, repeating the same word.

  “What the hell does pizda mean?” she snapped, knowing it couldn’t be good.

  He sneered at her. “Cunt.”

  She clenched her hands, wishing the porridge bowl had hit him in his asshole of a face. “The only cunt here is you, so go fuck yourself,” she growled out.

  He narrowed his eyes at her, looking like he wanted to snap her neck. She glared back, not willing to break the stare first. His lips twitched, then a mean smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He started walking towards her slowly as though ever step was meant to intimidate her.

  She stepped over her seat and backed around the table. “What do you thinking you’re doing?”

  Remaining silent, he continued to advance on her, like a predator ready to pounce. He was all tense muscle and grim expressions, reminding her of when he’d grabbed her neck.

  Scared, she snatched up the last water bottle. “Back the hell off, Sasha!” she yelled, ready to throw it at him if he attacked her.

  He swiped up the pot of yogurt and continued heading for her, the slight twitch of his lips showing cruel amusement.

  Realizing what he was up to, she held out a hand. “Keep that away from me!” She lifted the bottle. “Or I’ll chuck this at you.”

  “Do it.” In the blink of an eye, he went for her, dodging as she threw the bottle. It flew past him, hitting the floor with a crack. She screamed and lunged for the bed, intending on jumping over it, but he hooked an arm around the waist and yanked her back. She screamed louder as he tipped the yogurt over her head, the cold sludge running down her hair.

  Laughing, he pushed her onto the bed. “Do you want some fruit with that?”

  She turned over as he picked up her fruit bowl. “Don’t you dare!” she yelled, holding her arms over her face.

  Still laughing, he tipped the fruit over her, then snatched up the carafe of wine.

  “No!” she hollered.

  She rolled to the side as he splashed wine at her. She jumped up and shot past him. He threw more, getting her in the back. With a burst of fury, she spun around and rushed at him, her momentum making them fall onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back.

  “Get off me, you stronzo!” she hollered, trying to get free.

  He grabbed her arms and pinned them to the mattress. She went berserk, screaming and thrashing about under him, desperately trying to get free. He clamped down harder and thrust his groin against her pussy, instantly silencing her. Stunned by what he’d done, she looked up at his face, shocked even more by his feral expression. He was baring his teeth, looking like he could rip her throat out. But instead, he started dry humping her. It was as though his lower half was moving of its own volition, his body having disconnected from his mind.

  He started talking in Russian, his voice a deep, sexy rumble. She didn’t understand what he was saying, but had a feeling it was dirty, his tone guttural.

  Lowering his head, he placed his lips within a breath of hers, so close she could almost taste him. Something crossed over his face, wiping away his feral expression. A spark of doubt? Worry? Even with his body pressed against hers, it looked like he was still fighting kissing her. She wanted to yell at him to forget about his stupid fucking morals and rules, but all she could do was stare into his eyes, praying he’d give into what he wanted.

  What she wanted.

  He muttered something in his mother tongue again, then loosened his grip on her arms. Fearful he was pulling away, Andriena went to grab his head, but instead froze as he slipped a hand between their bodies.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, causing her to flush. His skin was flushed too. He was giving off so much heat that she felt hot for the first time since she’d been thrown into the cold cell.

  His fingers brushed over the top of her left breast, the calloused tips sending tingles across her flesh. His touch descended to her nipple. He took hold of the hard nub and rolled it between two fingers, causing her to gasp. Growling in response, he lowered his head and lapped at the nipple through the lace, lathering it with his tongue. Needing the whole of his mouth, she grabbed his head and pushed his face into her breast. In answer, he latched onto it, sucking the lace-covered mound into his mouth. She let out a strangled groan and arched her back, losing herself in the pleasure.

  As he sucked on her breast, he took hold of her other one, thumbing its nipple. Without warning, he squeezed it and bit down on her left one at the same time, the combination overloading her senses. Crying out, she grabbed his hair and jutted her hips up, grinding her pussy against him. Part of his cock sprung free from his briefs, hard and weeping. Andriena continued to grind against him, smearing his pre-cum over her lower stomach. A deep rumble emanated from his chest, Sasha groaning in approval as he devoured her breast.

  Letting go of his hair, she moved her hands down the long line of his back, settling them on his ass. She squeezed the muscular globes through his cotton briefs and moaned out his name, so far gone she knew she’d let him enter her unsheathed.

  He lifted his head. His blond hair was standing on end from where she’d grabbed it, while his full lips were swollen from sucking on her lace-covered breast. But it was his eyes that drew her attention the most. His pupils were enlarged, the black virtually eclipsing his irises, which were now thin slivers of silver instead of gray, the light illuminating them. They looked supernatural, as if a demon had possessed him, which she could almost believe, because the man on top of her was nothing like the one she knew.

  Yet again he lowered his head, placing his lips close to hers. His hot breath felt like a tease against her lips, promising things he’d denied her before. Unable to hold back a second longer, she yanked his head down and smashed her lips against his, taking what she wanted. He took it a step further and pushed his tongue inside her mouth, the last vestiges of his self-control gone. Their tongues dueled as their bodies rubbed against each other, the pressure building up and up, driving Andriena to madness.

  Needing his cock inside of her desperately, she tugged at his briefs, drawing them over the curve of his ass. But instead of feeling smooth skin, her fingers brushed over scarred flesh. Sasha’s head whipped back, a look of fear blanketing his features. Grabbing her hands, he wrenched them away from him and yanked his briefs back up. A second later, he shot off the bed, almost as though an unseen force had propelled him backwards.

  He landed on his feet and spun around, yelling at Nikita, “He can’t punish me for this!”

  Andriena’s stunned gaze moved to the guard, who was shaking his head at Sasha, giving him a look of disapproval.

  “Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Sasha hollered. “I did nothing wrong!”

  “Not according to your vows,” Nikita bit back.

  Sasha pointed at Andriena. “She instigated this, not me!”

  “That’s not what I saw and once the Black Russian sees the tape—”

  “He still can’t punish me for it! I didn’t penetrate her.”

  Andriena sat up. “Calm down, Sasha, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  His eyes snapped to her. His pupils were back to their normal size, the silver of his irises returning to gray. There wasn’t an ounce of lust left in his stare, only fear and anger darkening his eyes.

  “He put you in here to make me crack, didn’t he?” he snarled at her.

  “Who? Nikita?”

  “No, the Black Russian. The sadistic bastard wants me to fuck you so he can torture me for it.”

  “I was here before you.”

  “What’s he promising you?” he continued, appearing not to have heard her. “Did he offer you freedom if you made me fuck you?”

  “No! What’s gotten into you, Sasha?”

  �
��You!” His gaze snapped back to Nikita. “Take her out!”

  Nikita shook his head. “No, she stays.”

  “I won’t go near her again, and if you do anymore tricks with food, I’ll refuse to eat. She can starve too, because I’m not falling for the Black Russian’s ploy.”

  “It’s not a ploy, so like the lady said, calm down.”

  “How can I be calm?” Sasha yelled. “You know what’ll happen if I have sex with her, yet you keep doing things to make me want to fuck her. So stop it, Niki, fucking stop it!”

  “I’m not doing anything, Sasha, this is all on you.”

  “Liar!” Sasha hit his head with his hand. “You’re playing with my mind, trying to make me crack, when you should be helping me. You would be dead if it wasn’t for me, so take this fucking woman out before the Black Russian completely destroys me.”

  “I can’t and you know it.”

  Letting out a roar of anger, Sasha went for the table. He snatched up a bowl and flung it at the window, hitting the glass pane where Nikita’s face was. The plastic dish bounced off the thick glass, not even leaving a scratch. He grabbed another dish and threw it at the window too, the food inside of it splattering everywhere.

  “Stop it, Sasha!” Nikita barked.

  “No, fuck you and fuck the Black Russian!”

  He bent down and lifted the table, flipping it over. Andriena backed up fast, Sasha having completely lost his mind.

  The door flung open, followed by a heavy blast of water. It hit Sasha, making him stagger back. A guard entered the room, holding a fire hose. He continued to blast Sasha, backing him into the wall. Sasha curled over and covered his head with his arms, yelling, “Stop!”

  Then the hose was turned on Andriena, making her scream. The water was hard and freezing, biting into her skin. She covered her head to stop it from stinging her face. It felt like a thousand needles were being injected into her flesh. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started, allowing her to uncover her head. She looked up as the guard exited the room, closing the door behind him.

  Nikita’s voice crackled over the intercom, “That was stupid, Sasha. Now you’re drenched, in a cold room, with a wet bed, and nothing to keep you warm, other than Andriena, who I don’t think will want to go near you again.”