Reckless Heir (Underworld Kings)

As if he read my thoughts he groaned, “never again. I’ll never deny this hot little cunt again, never deny you anything.”

I sagged against him and rested my forehead on the center of his chest, panting, my mind hazy with the post-euphoric orgasm. Just when I felt like my legs would give out, he scooped me into his arms and laid me on the bed. I watched with half-closed eyes as he got out of his clothes and climbed into bed beside me.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He pulled me close, held me, and buried his face in the crook of my neck.

“I’m yours. You know I’m always yours.”

“Yeah you fucking are. Only mine,” he murmured. I heard him inhale deeply. “God, you always smell so incredible.” His arms tightened around me.

“I love you.” I brought one of his hands that rested against my chest to my mouth and kissed his tattooed knuckles.

“Zhizn moya.” My life. “I love you, too. More than anything else in my worthless life. I love you, would kill for you, lay down my life to protect you.” He inhaled again and I closed my eyes. “Not even the devil could come up from the fiery pits of hell and pry you from me.” He kissed the side of my neck.

And that’s how I relaxed, with Nikolai’s hard cock nestled between my ass cheeks, his warm breath along the side of my throat, and his words of slaying the very devil himself to keep me in his life the last things I heard and felt as I let sleep take me under.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Ruin

They called me Razoreniye. Ruined. And I suppose that’s what I was.

A broken shell of what was once humanity, a man who once felt empathy.

I’d been shaped and molded into the killer I was today, started at a young age to be a weapon for the Bratva. Bloodshed give me sustenance, violence was my strength. And destruction was my power.

They’d taken my memories, stripped them from me and replaced them with orders and routines, rigorous training and aggression so I knew nothing else. Expected nothing less. And I accepted it.

I embraced it. I enjoyed playing their god, holding their fragile life in my hands and staring into their eyes as I snuffed it out.

And I was good at what I did. The best. Because When you had nothing in life, nothing to lose, nothing else mattered.

But there was one thing they could never take for me. One memory that I held onto like that last petal on a flower before the frost snapped it in half.

There was one image, one sight that would always be mine, forever buried in my black, corrupted soul. And although it had been decades since I last saw her, since I heard her voice, or smelled that soft, floral scent that clung to her hair, she was mine.

If there ever was a time of a retelling, our time was now. My beauty with the scarred, monstrous beast, too pure and good for someone like me. I didn’t deserve her, should have stayed away, but our stories were always meant to be told, our lives intertwined.

And I made sure that was our destiny as I stayed to the shadows and stalked her in the dark.

She was mine, and it was time I finally took her.

The End.