by Zoe Blake
Nadia threw her head back and moaned.
I leaned over her, both of our bodies slick from the water beating down on us. “You’re mine, Nadia, and I’m going to make sure you feel it and never forget it.”
With that, I thrust in deep.
Her knees buckled but I held her upright. Her tight walls clamped down on my cock as I speared into her repeatedly, pounding into her tiny body, releasing all my anger and fear and love.
“Oh, God! Oh God! Mikhail!” she breathed as her body jerked forward with each of my thrusts.
Lifting my free hand, I brought my palm down on her ass. Her wet skin gave off a satisfying smack the moment I made contact. Heightened by the warmth of the shower, her cheek immediately glowed a bright cherry red. I spanked her again and again, matching each strike with a pulse of my hips as I thrust in deep to her core.
I was a man possessed. Needing her to not only hear my words but feel the possession of my body to know she was now mine alone.
Her fingers curled against the tiles as her body tensed. Her back arched, and her lips opened in a silent scream. I could feel the spasms from her orgasm ripple up my shaft. Once she had achieved her release, I thrust into her with abandon, needing her to feel every thick inch as the waves of pleasure crested then crashed over her body. My balls tightened. The pressure was almost painful. Finally, my head fell back as I let out a roar of completion, releasing deep into her body, selfishly praying my seed took hold.
Pulling free, I swung her around and clasped her to me. I enclosed her in my arms and pressed her head to my chest. Still breathing hard, I rasped against the top of her head, “Take it back.”
Her hands slid up my sides to wrap high around my back, but she remained silent.
I grasped her tighter and repeated, “Take it back.”
She lifted her gaze and stared at me for a moment. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
“And?”
“And… I’m yours, Mikhail.”
I lowered my head and claimed her mouth, wanting to taste the sweet truth of her words. Ruthlessly pushing aside the bitter doubts which tried to warn me she was lying.
Chapter 23
Mikhail
With Nadia tucked naked in bed fast asleep, I went in search of her brothers. It was time we came to an understanding. Now that the danger had passed, I wanted to bring Nadia back to my penthouse. I wanted her in my bed tonight and every night from now on.
As I walked downstairs, the house was quiet and still.
After searching the kitchen and living room, I found Gregor in his study. He was standing over his desk with his palms on the surface, studying a large map with a pile of files next to it. He was so engrossed he didn’t look up right away. On the bookshelf, there was a small brass clock whose relentless and solemn tick tick tick filled the silence.
Still without looking up, he motioned for me to come closer. “Mikhail, I’m glad you’re here. I want you to look at this.”
I approached the desk and looked down. It was a detailed street map of Caracas, Venezuela.
Gregor straightened and reached for a folder on top of a stack. “One of our friends at the CIA has reached out and asked us to squash a bug.”
I opened the folder. The man was basically a typical corrupt politician who was not above using violence against even women and children to secure his fortune. I nodded. “It’s tough to take these assholes out. They have too much security for a close hit, and my Spanish is rusty at best.”
Gregor took the folder back from me. “Agreed. Apparently, he’s making a speech next month.” He pointed to the Plaza Bolivar. “From a grandstand, here.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A public assassination?” I looked over the map. Tapping a finger over the location, I said, “Here. The Catedral de Caracas. It’s your best bet for a sniper’s nest with the highest vantage point.”
Gregor nodded in agreement as he crossed to the sideboard where the housekeeper had set out an elaborate Lomonosov sterling silver and cobalt blue enamel samovar which I had no doubt had been in their family for generations. Lifting the gilded handle of a podstakannik, he released the samovar spout and poured hot black tea into the glass, added two lumps of sugar and handed it to me. The distinct campfire scent unique to traditional Russian Caravan tea wafted around the room. He then lifted a small tray of cookies, candies, and lemon cakes, but I waved him off.
He fixed his own glass and returned to the desk. “I’m thinking you could use the Barrett M82.”
I shrugged. It was a decent sniper rifle, but the Lobaev SVL would be better. I told him so. “That shot has to be at least twelve hundred meters if they put the stage facing north, which is the most likely location. The Lobaev SVL is more accurate at that distance.”
“Yes, but we don’t have thirty crates of Lobaev SVLs that we’re trying to sell to a warlord in the Sahel region.”
I agreed. “Good point. Blowing a guy’s head off from over a thousand meters away would be an effective sales presentation of the Barrett M82 capabilities.”
Gregor took a sip of his tea, then said, “Good. I’ll cut you in for fifty percent since you’ll be handling the sales presentation for this one. You’ll also get the usual seventy-five percent cut of the CIA’s shadow fee.”
I nodded. “Just have them send the money into the usual account, and I’ll transfer over your portion.” After a pause, I asked, “Where is everyone?”
Gregor walked back to the sideboard and picked up a small sugar cookie, probably one left over from the wedding ransom. It was hard to believe that celebration was only yesterday. It felt like a lifetime ago, so much had changed and happened.
Gregor returned to the desk. “Damien took Yelena back to their place, but he’ll be back to review our Venezuela plans. Samara is in … bed… resting.” Knowing Gregor, I’m sure she needed the rest.
He continued, “And I assume, Nadia is still upstairs napping.”
The room fell silent.
Tick, tick, tick.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “About Nadia— “
Damien breezed into the room, announcing, “That woman will be the death of me.”
He crossed over to the samovar and picked up a glass, releasing the spout to fill it with hot tea. As the glass heated up, he immediately had to shake his hand, then he grabbed a podstakannik and dropped it into the ornate metal-handled holder. Tossing a numbingly sweet four sugar cubes into his tea, he joined us at the desk. “She climbed outside that damn window in her freaking pajamas.”
I offered, “Next time lock her in a bedroom with clothes.”
Gregor grimaced. “The point of locking her in a guest bedroom without access to clothes was to prevent an escape.”
Damien shook his head as he took a bite of a kefir cookie. “Right out the fucking window. Damn, I love that woman.”
Gregor tapped the map. “Mikhail’s good with the plan.”
Damien set his tea aside. “You’ll have to use the Barrett M82 not the Lobaev SVL. You good with that too?”
I nodded. “We already discussed it. Makes sense. I’ll make it work.”
Again, the room fell silent.
Damien and Gregor exchanged a look.
I pushed my shoulders back as I straightened, sensing the rising tension in the room.
Gregor cleared his throat. “We need to talk about Nadia.”
Shifting my gaze between the two of them, I took a step back as Damien rose out of his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.
Tick, tick, tick.
Gregor walked around behind his desk and crossed toward the far-right bookshelf where, I happened to know, behind a false front of leather-bound Tolstoy novels there was a wall safe with a loaded Para 1911 G.I. Expert handgun next to it.
On the other side of the desk, I eased casually backward to lean against another bookshelf. Under some old gun magazines on the shelf behind me, I had a CZ P-10 F striker-fired pistol hidden. It was a simple gun with a pol
ymer frame, which made it ideal for concealment and close quarter kills.
Gregor had hidden his gun behind the books, because going for a weapon in a desk drawer was an obvious move which clients and enemies, usually both one and the same, would easily expect and be watching for. I had a gun hidden in this room because it was my job to always be prepared.
Tick, tick, tick.
I weighed my words carefully. “Yes, it’s past time we talked about Nadia.”
Damien released a long breath. “After what happened last night, I think we are all in agreement she needs to marry. The sooner, the better. It will take the target off her back. The alternative is forcing her to move back in with Gregor where she can be watched and protected twenty-four seven, and I think we all know how that plan would be received.”
Gregor’s hand slid along the leather bindings. There was a soft click as the latch keeping the false front in place released. “As we’ve said before, it will need to be someone suitable. We can’t allow just anyone to marry into the Ivanov family.” He flipped the bindings down, exposing the safe and the gun.
My fingertips slid along the glossy surface of the top magazine. “I agree.”
Fuck.
They knew.
They at least knew something, probably not all the details, but they knew something had happened between me and Nadia. They knew the situation had changed. If they disapproved and tried to challenge my claim on their sister, then I faced an impossible choice.
This couldn't be happening. Gregor and Damien weren’t just my employers, they were my closest friends. I didn’t want bloodshed. What kind of future would Nadia and I have if I built our marriage on the blood of her family? The Ivanov name didn’t just belong to her brothers. They had extended family in Chicago, Russia, and London, all in the mafia game. They would hunt us down. Nowhere would be safe. She’d be in constant danger, more so than now. Now, she was only the occasional target of an opportunist. If I killed her brothers and we fled, she’d be wanted by every member of her family. They would hunt her down and make an example of her, blood or no blood.
And that was only if I could convince her to come with me. I loved Nadia with every breath in my body and despite her protestations earlier, I knew she loved me, but that would change if I killed her brothers. I’d forever be a monster in her eyes. I’d destroy her and us.
I couldn’t do it.
I loved her too much.
I loved her enough to let her go.
I loved her enough to die for her.
I pulled my hand back, away from my hidden gun. If Gregor reached for his and killed me for betraying him by going after his sister, then so be it. I wouldn’t defend myself. I couldn’t do that to Nadia.
Gregor’s hand moved toward the gun.
Tick, tick, tick.
His hand shifted to the wall safe where he punched in a seven-digit code. The safe door sprung open. He reached inside and turned toward me. In his hand was a small red velvet box.
My entire body braced, unsure of what was happening or what would happen next.
Tick, tick, tick.
Gregor tossed the velvet box to me. I caught it and flipped open the lid. Inside was a vintage Art Deco diamond and emerald ring, similar to the style which inspired Nadia’s jewelry designs.
He walked over to Damien and clapped him on the shoulder. They both turned their heads and smiled at me. Gregor gestured to the ring. “You don’t have to, but we think you should use her great-grandmother’s engagement ring when you propose. She’s always loved it.”
What?
They both crossed the room and slapped me on the back at the same time. I pitched forward slightly from the impact as I tried to force my mind to catch up.
Damien laughed. “Look at this face! He thought you were going to put a bullet in him.”
Gregor patted my back a second time. “Get used to that shellshocked, kicked in the gut feeling my friend. Based on my experience, that’s marriage.”
My brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. You’ve made it clear for years that it wasn’t possible. My lack of family, of a proper name. The Ivanov honor.”
Gregor pushed the tea samovar aside and grabbed three glasses while Damien unscrewed the cap on a bottle of Stoli Elit Vodka. He poured three generous shots and passed them around.
I stared at the velvet ring box in my left hand as I clasped the vodka glass in my right. Nothing seemed real in this moment.
Damien clinked my glass. “We were wrong to think that, my friend. Life, and more importantly, love, has shown us just how wrong. You love our sister. That is all that matters and all that should have mattered.
Gregor raised his glass. “Za nashu druzhbu!” To our friendship!
We all drank.
Damien poured another round, although he shook his head. “I really don’t know how you both drink this tasteless crap.” He raised his glass and toasted, “Vyp'yem za lyubov’!” Let’s drink to love!
Gregor placed his hand on my shoulder. His smile faded. “Although, I don’t have to tell you. If you hurt her or make our sister unhappy—” He reached past me and lifted my handgun out from its hiding place under the stack of magazines. “We’ll kill you.”
I should have known better than to think I had gotten anything over on Gregor.
I tossed back half my vodka. “Don’t worry. If that should happen, I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one to pull the trigger.”
Damien shrugged. “She’s an Ivanov. To our baby sister!”
I raised my glass. “And my future wife.”
Gregor advised, “You better marry her soon before someone else gets any stupid ideas.”
I grinned. “Trust me, I’ve wasted enough time where Nadia is concerned. I have no intention of waiting any longer. If I have my way, we’ll be married before the end of the week.”
In that moment of celebration, it never occurred to any of us that Nadia might not agree to our immediate plans for her future wedded bliss.
Chapter 24
Nadia
Mikhail’s arm wrapped around my waist from behind. He had laid down beside me, fully clothed on top of the covers. I snuggled into his embrace. My head hurt from trying to figure out all my mixed emotions, but in that moment, all I wanted was to feel his strength and warmth and believe everything was going to be okay.
He gently kissed the top of my head. “I promise, kroshka, I will fix this.”
My lower lip trembled as my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t want him to know I was crying, but I couldn’t contain my shaky inhale.
With a muttered curse under his breath, he turned me to face him. Placing an arm under my head, he pulled me close, till my ear was pressed against his heart. I inhaled his sandalwood cologne scent. He also smelled faintly of my favorite tea, like an outdoor campfire on a winter’s night, which was oddly comforting. His hand cradled my head as he held me close within his embrace.
“Please, baby, don’t cry. I’ll make it better. Trust me.”
His plea only made me cry harder. I knew it was only a store. We could rebuild it. Samara, Yelena, and I had already been talking about doing a boutique gallery and store together anyway, so I probably would have switched locations in the coming months. Still, it was my store. It was something I'd accomplished on my own that I was very proud of, and now it was gone. I should have been, and was, happy everyone I loved was safe and did trust that it wasn’t a decision Mikhail took lightly. I knew deep in my heart he and my brothers had their reasons. I knew none of them would have been so cruel and callous as to ruin my dreams if it wasn’t absolutely necessary to protect me and the family, but it still stung.
Rubbing soothing circles on my back, he sang to me in a soft baritone. “Kak ya lyublyu glubinu tvoikh laskovykh glaz, Kak ya khochu k nim prizhat'sya khot' raz gubami! Tomnaya noch' razdelyayet, lyubimaya, nas, I trevozhnaya, chornaya step' prolegla mezhdu nami.”
It was the bittersweet Russian love song, Dark is the Night. I had never heard
him sing before. The effect was beautifully sad and mesmerizing.
He repeated the lyrics in English. “How I love the depths of your gentle eyes, How I want to press my lips to them! This dark night separates us, my love, And the dark, troubled steppe has come to lie between us.”
I lifted my face up to his, and he kissed me. It wasn’t one of his soul searing, forget-your-own name, possessive kisses. It was gentle, almost hesitant. His lips sought mine. He licked my bottom lip before running the tip of his tongue along the sharp edge of my teeth. His tongue swept in.
I groaned and opened my mouth wider as I twisted my fists into the fabric of his shirt.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned into the kiss, taking firmer control. He shifted his hand to cup my jaw, pushing down with his thumbs to open my mouth further and deepen the kiss. The hard ridge of his lengthening cock pressed against my upper thigh through the covers. He shoved the blankets down to expose my breast. Breaking our kiss, he closed his lips around my nipple as his warm hand caressed down my back to grip my waist, holding me in place. He pulled on the delicate flesh, scraping it slightly with his teeth. I groaned as I gripped the hair at his nape.
“Bozhe, ty mne nuzhen, detka,” he murmured against my skin.
I needed him, too. I couldn’t even remember the time before he was in my life. I relied on and believed in his powerful presence, always there, always watching over and protecting me. He was my very own dark archangel. Still, this new insanely intense level to our relationship was terribly overwhelming. It caught me in a storm, spinning and spinning. The calm atmosphere of the eye may lull me, but I was still aware of the dangerous chaos he brought, swirling around me, threatening to destroy everything.
His hand swept over my hip, slipping beneath my knee. He pulled my leg up so he could press into my core.
“Oh, God!” I breathed as my head fell back.
This was insane. We’d already had sex several times, and yet I still craved more. The more he touched me, the more I needed him to fuck me. I didn’t even recognize myself. I did not know I could even be such a reckless wanton. I was finally living up to my free-spirited fire zodiac sign and embracing my passionate side, and it scared the hell out of me.
