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I tuned him out to watch a single seagull soar above the water. I envied its wings; its courage to leap from a nest without knowing yet that it could fly. Here I was, grounded behind golden gates by Dior and the desire for my papa’s approval.
First world problems much?🙈
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.
“Wait,” I blurted. “Where are you going?” He turned his head to study me with cautious eyes. “Giving you some privacy, kotyonok.” I chewed my lip, not knowing what compelled me to ask that. I was confused. And I really didn’t like doctors. “Please, stay.”
Stop it, already?🙈
“I’ll reimburse you for everything,” I said. “The doctor and—” I glanced at the can in my hand, which amused Ronan. “I’ll add the soda to your bill,” he said.
Hihi🤭
“I was a cheerleader in high school, not anymore.” “So a solid year ago then?” “Of course not,” I said, like he was completely off the mark. “A year and a half.” He smiled. “Ah, my mistake.”
🤣🤣🤣
“You’re altruism’s poster child, aren’t you?” “Of course not.” So many things said otherwise, but the defense that slipped out sounded superficial to my own ears. “Sometimes I eat dairy when there’s no other option.” As if he couldn’t help it, he laughed softly. “That’s a concerning issue, kotyonok. I don’t think I’ll be able to look at you the same way again.”
Is she serious?🤣
“You’re too sweet for your own good.” “You can have some. There’s plenty to go around.” The offer escaped me without a single thought to how it might come across. All of the playfulness in the air drowned beneath the intensity of his eyes. His stare burned me with the hot lick of a flame. My heart tightened at the tension, resolve wavering. But then he ran a thumb over the scar on his bottom lip and looked away.
Insta lust much?
“I have always loved coming in first.” Then his lips touched mine, softly, only a whisper.
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.”
“Count down,” he ordered. “What?” I breathed. “Count. Down.” He slipped two fingers through my wetness and pushed them inside of me. I arched my back, dug my nails into his shoulders, and groaned in pleasure and a little pain. This was rougher than anything I was used to, but it only seemed to spark a fuse inside me. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Count.” “Thirty . . .” I breathed. “Twenty-nine . . .” Ecstasy unfurled in my veins like the hit of a drug—a mind-numbing, breathtaking drug—as he slid his thick fingers in and out. He rubbed a spot deep inside of me, hot pressure expanded, and my eyes rolled
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Why is this so hot? 🥵
I headed back inside and made my way to Kostya, who sat on a stool at the end of the hall, his attention on his phone. I stopped beside him to see he was playing Candy Crush. The fucker was so engrossed in his little game, he jumped when I spoke. “You got four jelly beans there.” Cautiously, he looked at me. “Gde?” Where? “There.” I pointed them out. He pulled the red jelly bean into place and swallowed. “Thanks, boss.” “No problem.” Then I punched him in the face.
Stop it 🤣🤣🤣
“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.
Gianna slipped into the room and moved to her suitcase near the couch. My gaze followed her movements as she grabbed something from the chaotic pile of clothes inside. She glanced at me. My expression darkened, telling her if she was clothing my little captive, I would teach her daughter every Russian curse word I knew. And between living on the streets and prison, I knew a few.
Oh I really want to see more Giana and Roman interactions 🤭
The truth was, love was self-serving. A greedy monster without morals, corrupting my most basic principles. Loyalty came hand in hand, tightly gripping my throat.
I was blowing out a smoke ring, feeling oddly content, when Mila roused. I bit my cigar between my teeth and pulled the bloody cake to her. “Medovik, kotyonok?” Her expression paled, and as a soft chuckle left me, she scrambled off my lap and puked into a potted plant.
This man is unhinged
She backed up and shook her head. “No.” There she went with that word again. My eyes narrowed. “We’ve had this talk.” Her almond eyes softened with something almost pleading, and the sight hit me in the chest and ached in my cock both at once. The unsettling sensation brought anger to the forefront. She drew my blood when I was focused on her naked ass. Foolish error on my part. And now, with a single look, she was making me question my ill intentions.
“Not to mention, not a huge fan of STDs.” He made a bitter sound. “I’m sure you have a history with them. You’ve fucked half the city.” “Nah. I always wrap it up.” And then I drawled a popular health provider’s slogan. “Prevention is the key to health and happiness.”
UNHINGED 😂
A brow rose. “And what am I doing?” “You’re trying to Stockholm syndrome me.” I thought he wanted to laugh. “I don’t think that’s a verb.” “Like I need grammar advice from someone who uses ‘fuck’ as a noun, verb, and adverb in a single sentence.” “Fuck is versatile.” “Not that versatile.”
He wiped his face with a hand, voice cool but restrained between clenched teeth. “I’ll give you a head start.” If I ran from him, he would chase me. If I didn’t run . . . He would kill me.
My gaze caught on a book on the desktop, and I picked it up. Paradise Lost, in which God won and D’yavol lost. A small smile appeared. I should make Mila read it to me while I fucked her.
A memory resurfaced, of my papa teaching me to swim off a yacht in the Atlantic after he strapped so many flotation devices to me I would be carried away like a balloon in a strong wind. A nostalgic smile touched my lips as I asked, “How did you learn to swim?” He watched me for a second. “When I was eight, in the back seat of a car after my mother put a brick on the gas pedal and drove it into the Moskva.”
On his haunches beside me, he worked the IV bag through my bra strap, and my chest tightened when I saw the faint mark on his cheek. I couldn’t stop myself from running my fingers across it. He stilled, eyes lifting to mine. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “For hitting you.”
A safe sat in the corner. I wiggled the locked handle. The keypad required a numerical code for access, so I typed, “6-6-6.” The light blinked red, and the metal box let out an angry beep. “What are you doing, kotyonok?”
This girl🤣
“Looking for your staircase to hell.” He chuckled softly. “You’re not going to find it in here. I keep it in the basement.”
“Mogu ya predlozhit’ vam chto-nibud’ yeshche?” the maid asked Ronan in a sultry voice. I didn’t need to know Russian to understand she’d just questioned if she could “tempt” him with anything else. I hated blondes.
Girl you’re a blonde ffs 🤦🏼♀️🤣
If the kiss was a chess game, I was the bespectacled novice. And he was the cheater who wiped the board clean and fucked me on top of it.
I kissed the cut I’d made on his bottom lip. The action flooded the room with my silent apology, eliciting a noise in his throat that reeked of displeasure, but the feeling swelling inside compelled me to continue. I dragged my lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, then the thin scar, which I softly drew my tongue across. With a rough sound, he gripped my chin and angled my head back so I met his eyes.
I exhaled when he slid a thumb across my cheek, and a satisfied, villainous look so akin to him touched his lips. “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.”
“It’s . . . gross.” A second passed, and I thought he wanted to laugh, but the humor was contained by the intensity in his gaze. “As much as I wish otherwise, there is nothing about you I could find gross.” The warmth that rushed to my face was consumed by fire when he went straight for the soreness around my opening, tracing it with his tongue. The pressure stung a little, but the heat of his mouth relieved it and sent a zap of pleasure to my toes. Breath shaky, l readjusted my purchase on the couch, my thighs falling open at the next lap of his tongue, which he then slid inside of me. My
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“I’ll hate you forever if you hurt him,” I said numbly. “Your dramatics are a bit much for a Tuesday morning.” His words made me uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on us. As a little embarrassment arose, I turned my face into Ronan’s neck and murmured, “It was a great monologue.” “Oscar-worthy,” he returned with a trace of dry humor. “The near-fainting really brought it home.”
I couldn’t stop myself from pulling back to bite each bare cheek and then lick her from her pussy to her ass. She moaned and rocked back against me. I wanted to make her come on my tongue, but a single taste made my balls ache. I wiped a hand across my mouth in an effort to calm the blood pounding in my ears. Though the sight of her on her hands and knees stretched my willpower thin. She was so goddamn hot, I slapped her ass again hard.
Man is obsessed 🥵
The moonlight loved her. But not as much as my shadows. “Ti slishkom ideal’naya chto bi byt’ nastoyashchey.”
shiver wracked her, and the pressure in my throat expanded, compelling me to skim a kiss across her cold thigh and roughly say, “Izvini.” I’m sorry. I remembered the last time I’d said that. I was six and accidentally knocked over a cup of tea on the table, which washed away the line of heroin my mother was about to snort. She backhanded me so hard I hit my head on the fridge and blacked out. It was then I learned apologies were nothing but useless words, though Mila felt differently. And she could have whatever she wanted from me right now.
“You know I didn’t mean to do it, don’t you?” I knew. That was the problem. The knowledge had forced me to apologize and feel all sorts of awkward things. I’d wanted her body. But now, I wanted her loyalty even more. “I know, kotyonok. Now, go to sleep.”
“You’ve been spying on me.” “Be quiet,” he snapped. “This is my monologue.”
“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.”
It’s already too late
“Um . . . two,” I said unsteadily. “Two have touched me . . . that way.” He made a rough noise. “Dvoye mertvetsov.” Two dead men. I frowned. “I’m not going to tell you stuff if you’re going to kill people because of it.” Odd I needed to make that clear . . . but that was where I was. His eyes darkened. “Was one of them Ivan?” “No.” The look in his gaze cooled. “Fine. They can live.” “How noble of you,” I returned drily.
“Will you fuck me now?” I asked. He nipped my throat and growled, “Da.” D’yavol may have stolen my breath. But I gave him my heart.
I may not want to think about her, but I knew I wouldn’t have the willpower to stop fucking her, so that meant my dick had her name on it for the time being. Fuck . . . That sounded like monogamy. Odd the thought didn’t seem to bother me as long as Mila was in my bed.
The first slide of her tongue on my shaft hit me like a lance of fire. Residual heat spread up my stomach and tightened my abs. My head fell back to the couch, and I clenched my teeth in an effort to not make a sound as she licked my dick like a lollipop. I’d never make it to three hundred and eighty-eight.
This man 🤣🥵
“U neye ovulyatsiya,” I explained. “Ona prakticheski iznasilovala menya.” She’s ovulating. She practically raped me. Kirill’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “I ty ne mog ot ne’ye otbit’sa.” And you couldn’t fend her off, I see. I smiled. “Ona sil’neye, chem kazhetsya.” She is stronger than she looks.
“It’s called Stockholm syndrome. What’s your excuse? Mobster Decency Disorder?”
“Mila.” It was a scolding if I ever heard one. I lifted my head to see Ronan in the doorway, his eyes narrowed. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked, embarrassment sliding through me at him hearing my pathetic monologue. “Long enough to know fucking a mobster wouldn’t look good on your scholarship application.” Ugh. “Eavesdropper,” I muttered.
“I’ll come if Khaos can sleep here tonight. He likes my bed.” I’d even set up a bowl of water and a plate of pumpkin pie I found in the kitchen. Ronan wasn’t impressed. “Fine. But shut the door. My brother and his family are still here. And your dog is a nutcase.” “You’re a nutcase.” “You were the one involved in a porridge catfight downstairs.” “She pulled my hair,” I explained simply and shut the door behind me. His eyes darkened. “That won’t ever happen again. Nobody pulls your hair except me.”
In my haste, I barreled into the dining room and came to a full stop when I saw Gianna, Christian, and Kat enjoying a nice family meal. I panted, chest heaving. Gianna hid a laugh. “Uh-oh,” Kat murmured. “Mila is in trouble.” Ronan grabbed me by the waist and pulled me off my feet. “Make sure you try the vatrushka,” he said nonchalantly. “Polina makes the best.”
“Because you’re so sweet you fucking glow.” His eyes darkened. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take that light from you.”
“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.”
“Why the fuck would you do that, Mila?” he growled with a deep rasp. “WHY?” “You’re not immortal,” I whispered, my throat thick. “I didn’t want you to die.” He stared at me with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and something else indiscernible. “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?” I didn’t understand, so I shook my head. “Then let me make it clear for you,” he said, the shadows in his eyes flashing. “You would survive without me. You would
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If you want to know how to kill someone and get away with it, you only need to ask. —Ronan
“I don’t know about this though . . . It’s crazy, Ronan.” 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.
