Her Empire
Page 12
I watch as everyone loads up in the limo, and again I follow them back to their home. I’m driven by the need to be close to her because I know that pretty soon others will be coming for my woman. I’m shocked when shortly after they get there, she takes off again in her car. I follow, knowing if she wanted to lose me, she could. Her car is built for speed while mine is built to blend in.
She waits for me with the door of the warehouse open. I lift out my bag and carry it with me, making my way to her. When I’m close, I reach out for her and she jumps up and wraps around my body.
I want this.
I want her.
I can go rogue and defy the family. Could I keep them at bay until they come for me too? That’s a question I’m willing to answer because I can’t let her go if I wanted to. Every dark ugly part of me heals when she’s in my arms. I’m not a monster with her, I’m a man.
We make our way up the stairs, her lips sucking along my neck. We are barely through the door when I take her against the wall, stripping her bare and kissing every inch of her body. Worshiping her.
“What is your full name?” she asks me hours later. After a round in the shower and another on the counter in the kitchen, we are lying in her bed.
“Vitaly Michail Kuznetsov,” I say, but once the flood gates open, I give her more. “I was born in St. Petersburg. I lived in the orphanage until I was almost twelve. Three months after I ran away, I was found by Grigori. He raised me.”
“Where is he now?” Her naked body is on top of mine, her hand leisurely tracing my tattoos.
“He died.” I don’t tell her more. “How do you know Russian so well for an Italian girl?” I ask. Her body stiffens slightly. She is still holding parts of herself closed off to me.
“I lived in Russia for a while.” She doesn’t elaborate. Her Russian is perfectly accented. She lived there longer than a short time. “I know you’re a hitman.” She doesn’t say more. I want to deny it. I want to ask her how she knows, but she’s tracing the dagger tattoo that is designed to appear embedded in my neck. I want to demand how she knows what that tattoo means. I’ve seen her tattoos. She has her own Bratva ink along with some that I know are Italian mob.
“I have rules.” I try to lessen the truth.
“Such as?” Her head tips up to look at me and I look down at her, loving the way her eyes are bright right now.
“I don’t kill women and children. No innocents,” I say.
“Why are you here?”
I lift her up my body and she straddles my hips. I need to distract her from getting too close to the truth.
“It doesn’t matter now.” I take her lips in a deep kiss. I flip her onto the bed and take her again. I need to bury myself inside her body, because when she finds out why I’m here, why I was willing to change the rules for her, she might fight me, but I’ll force her to hear me out. I slip a condom on and move my cock through her folds, wishing I were marking her completely. The caveman image of me ejaculating inside her body causes my hips to move faster.
Her hands roam up my body from my waist to my back. The feeling of her capable and supple hands sliding across my skin heals something deep in my soul. She buries her hands in my long hair, pulling it slightly, and I slam harder into her. I have a hand buried in her hair, holding her head so I can stare into her eyes. My other hand holds her hip captive so she can’t move because as soon as she does, she’ll take me over too. My emotions are too close to the surface right now. I pull out and flip her over, then I tug her hips up and slam into her from behind. Gripping a handful of her hair, I pull her back onto my cock.
“Fuck me, kotenok,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to hold off the need to come.
Her hips buck into me, slamming me harder into her.
“Vitaly, I’m coming,” she cries out as her pussy spasms around my cock again. The ripples pull me over and we come together. I roll us so that she’s spooned against me when my arms collapse. I’ve had her so many times today alone. I look out the window and see it’s already dark outside.
“I’ll be back, kotenok.” I head for the bathroom to remove the condom and then the kitchen to get some more water.
The need to fuck her hard again overwhelms me. I just had her, but my cock is waking up again. I enter the room. “Get ready, kotenok. I want to eat you again.” I chuckle. My phone comes flying at my head. “What the fuck?” I catch it and look at the message displayed on the screen.
Pakhan KB: Is it done? Is she dead?
I look up at her in shock as I hear the gun cock.
“It’s not what you think.” I try to defend myself. The bullet hits the wall next to my head.
Her body is vibrating, and I can see the truth in her eyes. She knows. “It’s not? Because what I just read asked if she’s dead. You just told me you don’t kill women. I’m the only woman you’ve been focused on. Or are you just fucking me and going to kill someone else? If you’re here for Posy, I’ll kill you myself.”
“I swear I can explain. I’m not here for her.”
“Explain,” she yells, and the next bullet hits in the same exact spot, proof she’s trained. “Explain why my uncle is texting you. The man who tortured me most of my life. The man who killed my parents. Did you have to fuck me too so you could say you had the suka just as his other men did when they raped me?” The growl that leaves my body at her words is so loud my own body shakes. I’m confused why she would call Pakhan her uncle. But I’m not confused by anything else she said. That word coming from her lips again along with the fact she was raped makes me see red. My temper flaring.
“Your uncle?” I ask the most important question.