Blood of My Monster (Monster Trilogy, #1)

by Rina Kent

Kirill lifts my chin with his forefinger and says in a low tone, “Then get used to it, Solnyshko.”

“It’s hard for me to call you by your first name.” Her voice is softer, but it has that husky undertone that made it easier for her to pretend to be a man. “Then you need to get used to it. Say it. Kirill. It’s a very simple name.” “K-Kirill.”

“Go ahead,” I nudge when she remains silent. “Kirill,” she says with more force than needed. “Again. Naturally.” “Kirill,” she murmurs in a gentle tone that vibrates through my chest, then shoots straight to my dick, and my heart jolts.

“Don’t be a flirt.” “You’re the one who told me to do it more naturally.” She crosses her arms and then winces when she probably triggers the pain in her injury. “Make up your mind.” “If we were at camp, you’d be punished for that.” “But we aren’t.” “Watch it.” “Pretty sure a husband doesn’t talk to his wife in that tone.” “I do.” “You…are you married?” “I am.” Her lips part, and she slowly lets her hands fall to either side of her. I can almost taste the dramatic shift of her mood in the air. Interesting. “To you, remember?”

In fact, I can’t feel my face. And why is the earth so hazy? “As I was saying.” I hear the newcomer tell Kirill. “Are you why I was woken up so early? You don’t look that special to me. You sure you’re not supposed to be the accountant⁠—” The last thing I see is Kirill’s fist connecting with the man’s face before my world turns black.

That was Damien.” “The final member of the organization?” He nods. “And you just punched him back?” “Like he’d just punched you, yes.” “But I was in the wrong.” “Just because you stopped him doesn’t mean you were wrong.”

In a swift movement, he puts the plate back on the nightstand and then all but lifts me. In no time, he takes my previous place on the mattress and brings me down on his lap.

“I…was joking. I can eat on my own.” “You might have been joking, but I certainly wasn’t. I told you I won’t ask again.” He takes a spoonful of the soup and jams it against my lips. “Open.”

“Your skin looks red.” “That’s because…I’m hot.” “That you are.” My heart beats so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t jump from its confinements and lay itself at his feet. “W-what?” “What?”

“I’m trying to decide whether or not to fuck you.” I choke on my own breaths, and any logical thoughts seem to fly out the window. “You…what?” “You don’t have a hearing problem, so quit acting like you do.” His free hand strokes my cheek, then makes a slow path to my mouth. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since we were in that village. I contemplated throwing you down, opening your legs, and taking what I wanted. I fantasized about leaving my marks on this translucent skin, and not letting them fade. I imagined taking you over and over until you screamed and cried while begging for more.”

“We can rectify this situation if you confess.” “You’re not a priest, why would I confess to you?” “No, I’m not. I can be your father in Heaven, though.” “I decline.”

“Run all you like, Sasha, but one of these days, you will confess, and I’ll reward you.”

“I prefer Sasha or at least, Aleksander.” “And I prefer you not talk unless absolutely necessary, but we don’t always get what we want.”

I just can’t stop looking at him the moment I see him.

“Punch me.” “I…can do that?” “No, but you can try.” “What are you talking about? Of course, I can punch you.” A slight twitch lifts the corner of his lip. “Try then.” “What do I get if I manage to do it?” “Any reward you pick.”

“One punch, right? Anywhere?” “In the face.” “I’d hate to ruin your handsome features.” A rare smirk curves his lips. “You find me handsome?”

“You’ve got this, Sasha!” Maksim’s voice comes from behind me.

I love Mak

“Look at who owns you, Solnyshko. Look at how your body submits to me as if it was made for me. You are mine, and you will always be fucking mine. You’ll never belong to anyone else but me.”

His hot breaths fill my ear before he growls, “Mine.” A frightening shudder goes through me when I realize that he means that and will probably stop at nothing to really make me his.

No, it’s not her cunt. It’s mine.

Bro, I just let out the biggest cackle

I didn’t hear the entire conversation last night, but I heard enough to know she misses him, loves him more, and she’ll soon go back home for good. Oh, and she was smiling like an idiot and kicking imaginary rocks with her foot.

É o sobrinho dela meu filho kssksskssss

To say I can’t get enough of her would be a fucking understatement. I often find myself cornering her anywhere possible, just so I can have access to her.

“It’s time to go. The shipment arrives fifteen minutes from now.” I rub my eyes. “Why did they come early? We still have two hours.” “No, we don’t.” A proud, wide smile covers her face. “You slept for about two hours. See? I told you I could help.”

I fell asleep around her. Again.

Someone could’ve shot me during that time and I would have been none the wiser. She could’ve shot me, but she looks more proud about managing to put me to sleep with her soft fucking singing and some heartbeat magic. I need to put an end to this situation before it gets any worse.

“You don’t have to drive me to the airport,” I tell Kirill, who’s personally driving the car. He never does that.

“Don’t go.” It’s two words, but they’re so charged that they hit me in the chest. “I…will come back in three days. I promise.” “Don’t. Go.” It’s an order this time, fused with every ounce of authority Kirill is capable of. “I have to,”

He pulls me over so that I’m half lying on his lap, removes his glasses, and kisses me. No. He doesn’t only kiss me. He devours me, his tongue feasting on mine and his teeth nibbling and biting. He shows me instead of telling me that all my dark thoughts during the previous three days are null and void.

“Don’t go, Sasha,” he asks this time, softly, pleadingly even. And I melt. Every fiber in me breaks, willingly offering itself to this monster. My monster.

“You managed to get him to come alone,” Uncle Albert says in a proud voice. “Who…” I trail off as the rider of the snowmobile comes into view. My heart drops. My legs shake, and the world starts spinning. I would recognize that build anywhere. In a crowd. Or even in snow clothes.

That man was the mastermind behind our family’s massacre.” I watch in horror as my uncle opens fire on Kirill.