by Brook Wilder
I gulp as my hands shake. “He … he said that?”
“I meant it when I said I loved you,” he whispers so quietly I almost can’t hear the words. “I have always loved you from that first kiss at the lake to that one night we had together.” He takes another step, then another, moving slowly as if afraid I’ll bolt.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I reply, not sure if I truly believe what he’s saying. “We could’ve done something.”
“Like what, run away? You know that never would’ve worked. After he told me he’d kill you, I didn’t want to risk any contact. If Mikhail thought for a second we were still together …” He trails off as his hands close into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. And now … now I want to find a way to make this work.”
“How? And why is he allowing this now? Is this some sick game of his?”
“I don’t know, but what I do know is I’m going to keep you safe. No one is going to lay their hands on you again, Stella. No one. You have my solemn vow.”
I stare at him long and hard, watching as the Danya I saw in his study a week ago slips away and the man I fell in love with reappears. He’s certainly changed. There’s a visible weight in his gaze, one he’s been carrying for a long time. He’s seen things, done things that haunt him. Here, all alone with him in his mansion, the real Danya Ivanov makes himself known.
“You gave up what we had to save me,” I say quietly as I walk toward him.
“I had no choice.”
Breathing heavily, I close the distance between us and place my hand on his bearded cheek. My head says to play this cautiously. My heart, on the other hand, screams at me to take back what’s always been mine. I stand on my toes and Danya lowers his head so I can kiss him. Our lips meet tentatively at first.
Heat pools in my belly then spreads lower as I nip his lip and he groans. “Stella,” he whispers against my lips. His hands fist in the back of the robe. Every touch sends a new pleasurable sensation coursing through me. He hasn’t even done anything, and I’m already on fire. It’s like the night we first made love, only now he’s the man I always imagined he’d turn into. His tongue flicks against my lips and they part for him.
I remember his promise to make me forget the rest of the men I ever had sex with and clench my thighs together, sensing he’s about to make good on that promise. He tugs on the tie of the robe and it parts. He leans back to let it fall open and murmurs in Russian as his eyes narrow with want. The black lace that cups my breasts now feels annoying. I want it gone, but his clothes are in the way too. I tug his T-shirt up and he pulls it over his head, giving me a full view of his torso.
There’s a speckling of hair around his pecs, then a bit leading down into his jeans. I drag my nails along his skin, loving how he shifts along with my touch. There are tattoos marking his skin. Before I have a chance to absorb what they all mean, he shoves the robe over my shoulders. It pools at my feet, and then his lips find a pert nipple. I gasp as he sucks hard through the lace. His other hand massages my ass as he backs me toward the stairs.
“Danya.” I struggle to get the rest of the words out as my vision blurs.
I’ve never had any other man make me wet with desire so quickly. He shoves the lace aside with an annoyed grunt, then his lips close around the sensitive skin all over again. My hand smashes against the wall behind me as he drags the straps down my arms. He reaches around for the hooks on the bra when his eyes land on the bruises that have yet to fade. I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but then he tenderly kisses each mark left on my skin. His other arm wraps around my waist, holding me up like the lifeline I’ve been missing these last five years.
“Never again,” he whispers as he nuzzles my neck. “You hear me? Never again.”
Tears burn in my eyes and when one falls, he brushes it away with his thumb. “I needed you all these years and you weren’t there.” I don’t mean to say it, but it’s too late now. I swore I’d never let him know how much I missed him, but it’s like he’s breaking down the walls I spent so much time putting up. “You left me alone with them.”
He cups my face in his hands, pressing his lips to my forehead, then my cheeks and nose, until they find my lips again. “I’m sorry, Stella. I’m sorry for all the pain you’ve been through because of me. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare into his eyes, searching for any hint of a lie, but there’s just Danya and his love for me. I crush myself to his chest and he picks me up in his arms and carries me upstairs. We don’t get very far thanks to our mad kissing when I’m back on my feet in the hall. My bra disappears and his hands hold my breasts, heavy with a hunger for him quickly spiraling out of control. His hands explore lower as our tongues dance to a song only we can hear. He traces every rib, then the sensitive skin at my hips. I suck in a breath when he tugs down the lace panties. Cool air rushes between my legs, then he sinks to his knees.
A question is on my lips when his warm breath hits my curls. My feet shift as he runs his hands down my legs then back up, spreading them as he does. His name turns into a moan as the featherlight touch of his fingers on my dripping sex makes my inner muscles clench in anticipation. He nibbles along my hip as his fingers continue their path up and down my inner thighs, missing all the good parts along the way. Going cross-eyed with desire, I grunt in annoyance and he laughs huskily.
His hand pulls away completely and I whimper at the loss of his touch. A heartbeat later, I’m gasping as my head falls back into the wall. His fingers delve deep into my sheath as his tongue teases that sweet bundle of nerves. I bury my hands in his hair, holding him to me as he ravishes me mercilessly with his mouth. His fingers twist with every thrust as the pleasure builds. He stares up at me with a wicked grin as he licks his lips.
“I always wanted to taste you,” he whispers, and my knees shake. “Just let go, Stella. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
His eyes stay on me as his fingers continue their thrusting. His thumb rubs my clit, and then I’m falling over that cliff into an abyss of sheer pleasure. My moan turns into a sharp cry as I fall into him, shaking. He holds me up as the orgasm rampages through my body, seeming like it’s never going to end. I’m still trying to recover when he scoops me into his arms and carries me down the hall to his room. He kicks open the door and takes me toward the bed. When we reach it, he sets me on my feet.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers as he kisses me. The taste of me on his lips sends my libido into overdrive and I tear at his jeans to get to his hard cock waiting for me.
The zipper slides down and I slip my hand into his jeans. He grunts, his hips thrusting his burning-hot member into my palm. He buries his hand in my hair, kissing me passionately as I use both hands to glide along his length. When I nip his lip, he thrusts his hips harder and then pulls away from the bed. He takes me with him and places me against the bedroom wall. He spins me around so my back is to his chest and then his hand is back on my sex.
“You’re so damn wet,” he grunts, wrestling to get his jeans down with one hand.
I laugh through my moaning and then his hand leaves me. The sound of clothes hitting the floor distracts me, but then he’s back, turning my face so he can kiss me while he presses his shaft against my lower back. When he rocks his hips forward in time with his hand massaging my soaking wet lips, I kiss him harder, wanting every inch of this man like I never got to have him. His cock slips between my legs and I shove his hand aside to press his length against me.
“God, Stella,” he says, then groans as I rub along him.
I don’t have to wait long before he shifts my legs to get in the right position. His tip presses against me. I dig my nails into his thigh, and he thrusts forward. He fills me, and we both gasp at the sensation. Each movement is hard and deep as his hands hold my breasts. He tugs on my nipples, teasing them into even harder points. It’s too much, and I’m caught off guard by the second rush of immense pleasure exploding inside me
. I rest against the wall as he slips free, but when I feel him still hard against me, I reach around to guide him back. Instead, he tugs me to the bed, kissing me the whole way. He lays me back, covers me with his body, and buries himself in my sheath.
His mouth never leaves mine as he takes me, body and soul. His fingers massage down my thigh as I wrap my legs around his hips, deepening the angle. He thrusts faster, swelling even more inside me. Just when I don’t think I can take anymore, his grunt of pleasure turns into a shout of release as I tumble right down again with him. He clutches me to his chest as we shudder from our joined ecstasy. He whispers the same words he said to me the night we first made love. They’re in Russian, but I know their meaning all the same.
I love you.
He rolls to his side and I curl into the warmth of his chest. He brushes the hair from my face, smiling at me as I snuggle closer, both of us working to catch our breath. “Man of your word indeed,” I say, and he chuckles.
“Good.” He lets out a heavy sigh as he hugs me. “I never wanted to leave you.”
“I thought you were just like all the others,” I admit. “I should’ve known better.”
“How could you?”
“Because we were best friends. We knew everything about each other. You’re the stoic, stubborn Danya, and I’m, well, I’m not sure what I am anymore.”
“Fearless, loving, reckless,” he says with a smile, but it doesn’t last long. “I meant what I said earlier. You’re mine to protect now, and that’s what I’m going to do. But promise me you’re not going to do anything crazy.”
I frown. “What would I do that’s crazy?”
He hesitates, then kisses me until I’m dizzy. “I just don’t want Mikhail to have an excuse to make our lives difficult.”
“You think he’d try to break us apart again?”
“If he wants to do that, he better just kill me this time. I’m never letting you go again.”
I want desperately to believe him, but as I lie beside him, listening to the steady beating of his heart, I can’t stop the nagging doubt in the back of my mind. The Danya I knew might still be here, but there’s something he’s not telling me. I feel it. He’s holding back, and as much as I want to be honest with him now that we’ve got this second chance, I’m not sure how much I can trust him with either. Until I know how much he’s changed, I’ll keep my plans to myself. Five years of hurt can’t be erased in a single night, no matter how incredible that night is.
Chapter 10
Danya
Sometime before the sun comes up, I wake to find Stella nestled in my arms, sound asleep. The sheet’s pooled at her waist, exposing the soft skin of her chest and stomach. I gently trace my fingers down her arm, pausing at the bruises only long enough to remind myself that the bastard who caused them will be dead soon enough.
She shifts closer to me in her sleep and I grin as I slide down her body. Her legs spread easily for me and as I take another taste of the woman I’ve been denied for five years, her breathing quickens.
“Danya,” she gasps, and I glance up to find her wide awake and smiling down at me.
I return to my ministrations, plundering her depths with my tongue until she’s right on the edge. I shimmy up her body to take her again when she rolls us over so she’s straddling me. With a wicked look, she slips down my legs until she’s holding my erect cock in her hand.
“My turn,” she murmurs, right before those perfect lips close around the tip.
I grab at the sheets as she takes me in deeper, then deeper still, sucking all the while. She’s sideways beside me and my fingers manage to reach her sheath. I time my fingers with her mouth and soon she’s moaning around my cock in her mouth. I can’t take it and try to tug myself free. I manage it, but then she’s straddling me again. I easily glide into her depths and she rides me hard and fast. I massage her chest, trailing my fingers down her body as she moves faster and faster. When she loses the rhythm, right on the cusp of falling apart, I grab hold of her hips and finish us both off.
I swallow down her cries of release as we burrow back under the covers, laughing and kissing as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. As if we both aren’t living in a world fraught with danger.
Sometime later, when the sun streams through the heavy curtains, I stretch my arm out, expecting to find a warm body. Instead, the bed is empty. I sit up abruptly, but there’s no sign of Stella. I climb out of bed in a hurry, searching for clothes as I scan the room for my cell. I must’ve left it in the study last night. Hoping she just went to her room, I check on my way downstairs.
“Stella?”
The door swings inward and there’s no sign of her. Panic sets in that someone came into my home and stole her from me. I sprint downstairs for my cell and breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I see a text from Lukas. It says he stopped by early this morning to check in on us and saw Stella driving away. He followed her to campus and is keeping an eye on her for me.
I reply with a quick text of thanks and head to the kitchen, wondering why Stella hadn’t texted me herself. I walk toward the coffee pot and see a note taped to it. It’s from Stella reminding me she’ll be in class for the majority of the day, but she’ll be back in time for dinner.
Shit. Dinner. What am I going to do for that? I’ve never cooked, but suddenly the idea of having the servants in the house at all eats at me. I don’t want anyone inside these walls with Stella unless it’s Lukas. He’s about the only person I trust right now. I might’ve married her as Mikhail wanted, but there’s always a chance he’ll change his mind and decide to wipe out the whole Russo family. I quickly call off the servants before they can get to the house and assure them I’ll set up employment with one of my cousins.
I consider adding several more guards to the mansion too. Stella being on campus, out in the open, has me on edge while I make coffee and impatiently wait for it to brew. It doesn’t help either that after last night, my plan to keep my distance has clearly been shot to hell. There’s not a chance I’ll be able to stay away from Stella, not when I finally have her back. She might’ve turned hard, but the real Stella is there, buried beneath years of having to tolerate an abusive father and the pain I caused her.
Last night felt real enough, but I’m not sure if I can trust her with the whole truth, not yet. She has secrets just as I do. Until I learn what they are, I’ll have to play this close to the chest.
After I pour a mug of steaming hot coffee, I head into the study to check any messages from my men. There are none, which is a relief, but today is going to be another grueling day of training them and my brothers for our mission. Putting off heading out as long as I can, I walk along the shelves lining my study. An old photo album I almost forgot I had catches my eye. Setting my mug down, I pull it out and a picture falls from the pages.
The sight of it makes me smile. It’s of Stella and me when we were around fourteen or so. We’d been at the lake with our families like we were every end of July. That was before I realized Stella was more than just my best friend. This day, in particular, I remember all too well.
It had been windy all week, too windy to sail out on the lake. Stella threw a fit every single day and threatened to take a boat out alone if no one let her go. Her father threatened to take her home and said she wouldn’t see the light of day for months if she didn’t get control of herself. She stopped her complaining and didn’t speak for two whole days. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Joseph treat her like that and that week, I took a page out of Stella’s book.
After dinner, I snuck into Mikhail’s bedroom and swiped the keys to the boathouse. I slipped Stella a note during the meal to wait until midnight, then meet me outside. She didn’t reply, and I remember hoping she would take the chance. When I snuck out that night, there she was, standing under a light on the path, waiting for me. It was the first time I started to notice the subtle changes to her figure. The person who was my closest friend, who knew all my secrets, who understood
how difficult this life could be was suddenly so much more. When she spotted me, she waved me over, and I showed her the keys to the boathouse. The way her eyes lit up, I’ll never forget …
“Come on,” I say as I take her hand and tug her along.
“What if we get caught?”
“You saying you don’t want to?” I glance over my shoulder to see a mischievous grin play across her face. “That’s what I thought.”
We sprint to the boathouse. I quietly unlock the door and we step inside. There’s a small sunfish that looks easy enough for us to manage. We’ve been out on the lake plenty of times; I have faith we can manage it. The wind is still blowing fairly strong, but we’ve got this. Together, we manage to get the boat ready. We slip it into the water, pull up the sail, and the second the wind catches, we’re off.
