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Handsome in the way rough palms muffle screams, the way people bow to kings, and most of all . . . the way an angel falls from grace
moy kotyonok
Every inch of me vibrated beneath the surface, hummed and inflamed whenever my body touched his. I rolled my hips and arched closer against him, feeling incredible heat beyond his expensive black suit, and then I licked the inside of his mouth. Like a reflex, he sucked on my tongue. Heat, tiny pricks of heat, consumed me from the inside out. He pulled back to roughly say, “Ty dazhe na vkus sladkaya.
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was Markov, and he had a brother who lived in New York City with a pregnant wife and young daughter.
“Idealnaya,” he said roughly. Perfect
“Pomni.” His lips pressed against my ear. “Ti eto prosila
“Snimi eto dlya menya
“Moy kotyonok.” I ran a thumb across her parted lips. “I told you this city would eat you alive.” I just didn’t tell her I owned Moscow and everything in it.
“I’ll give you a head start.”
“Don’t worry, kotyonok . . .” He leaned in and nuzzled my neck, his warm breath raising goose bumps on my skin. “Ya vyyebu vsyu lozh iz tebya.”
“Eto moye.” This is mine.
“Ty dash’ mne trakhnut tebya?”
All I knew was, if he kept fingering me, he could have anything he wanted: my
heart, my soul, anal—whatever. So I hoped he sought a “yes” response, and I nodded.
The moonlight loved her. But not as much as my shadows. “Ti slishkom ideal’naya chto bi byt’ nastoyashchey.”
“Your papa is the last reason you’re still here.”
“Tell me what you really want from me, kotyonok. You can have it. Anything besides letting you go.”
It seemed I couldn’t force those words past my lips even to save my own soul. It was already his.
“I want you to care . . .” The words settled so thick and uninvited in the room they made my ears ring.
“You pull a trigger on me, and I can’t even leave you out in the cold for fifteen fucking minutes. So you tell me, Mila, who cares more here?”
“You wanted my misery, but I’m giving you my forgiveness,” I breathed, voice thick.
“I’ll walk away when this is over and I won’t look
back—though not because I hate you but because I don’t. Not even a little bit . . .”
“If you want to turn me in, so be it. I’d go back to prison for you, kotyonok, but when I get out, there’d better be an ocean between us.”
“Because this body is mine, and I need to know who’s fucked with it.”
“But be careful. One of them might
end up meaning something to you.” The words seared like acid on my tongue. He watched me for a second. “Ya dumayu uzhe slishkom pozdno dlya etogo.”
“I need to know everything. Who’s kissed you. What you wash your hair with. How many licks it takes you to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.”
“Inogda bol’no smotret’ na tebya.”
Sometimes it hurts to look at you.
All along, this man had been on the other side of the Atlantic. And maybe . . . just maybe, my soul always knew.
“Moya. Vse moya.” Mine. All mine.
I loved him. I couldn’t love him.
“Because you’re so sweet you fucking glow.” His eyes darkened. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you.” “Don’t kill Nadia.”
“Aren’t you going to say it too?” “Nyet.” The reply was so cold, its ice burned the backs of my eyes, sending a single tear down my cheek. It wasn’t until he watched it fall that I noticed the tightness in
his shoulders; the turmoil he hid so well behind Giovanni. A rough thumb wiped the tear away. “Ya ne govoryu togo, chego ne imeyu v vidu.”
“You don’t get to sacrifice yourself for me.” He clenched his teeth. “You DON’T get to die for me, kotyonok.” His eyes crucified me. “If anyone dies between us, it will be ME. Do you understand?”
“Then let me make it clear for you,” he said, the shadows in his
eyes flashing. “You would survive without me. You would move on.” His tone roughened. “I can’t imagine a world where you and all your fucking yellow doesn’t exist. So if you die, you’ll take me with you. Your sacrifice would mean nothing, kotyonok. NOTHING.”
“Kak moya zhena.” As my wife.
He gripped my throat and tipped my head up to meet my eyes. “Ty svela menya s uma. I teper tebye nuzhno razbiratsa s posledstviyami.” You made me crazy. And now you have to deal with the consequences.
“Ya lyublyu tebya . . . Those words?” Then I realized he’d probably never said them.
“Ya lyublyu tebya,” I said softly. “So much.”
“Ya lyublyu tebya. Tak sil’no chto ne mogu dumat’ kogda ty daleko ot menya.” I love you. So much I can’t think when you’re away from me.
“Ya byl tyoim pervym I ya budu tvoim poslednim.” I was your first, and I will be your last.
“The next time I fuck you, I need to know you’re mine. And I need you tonight.”
“Ty byla sozdana dlya menya.” You were made for me.
