Stolen By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #2)

Chapter 37

37

Emery

D emyan and I removed the bullet from my father’s leg without much difficulty. Dad is asleep now; blood loss, anesthetic, and painkillers have knocked him down hard, and he needs the rest.

A slow transfusion is hooked to his arm, along with IV fluids and antibiotics.

“You should get some rest, Emery.” Demyan pulls a Diet Coke from the mini fridge, deftly popping the cap with the edge of his stethoscope. “I’ll kick back here and take a light nap. If your father needs anything, I’ll tend to him.”

I release Dad’s hand and stand, stretching. “Thanks.”

He adjusts his glasses, giving me a dazzling smile, and I can’t help but smile back.

God, these bratva men are devastating. If Leon catches me smiling at Demyan, he might go full caveman and rearrange the good doctor’s face.

“You sure you’ll be okay in that chair?” I nod at the battered Chesterfield. “It doesn’t exactly scream comfort.”

He snorts. “Come on, you’re a doctor. You don’t think I’ve mastered the fine art of sleeping in crappy chairs? It’s practically med school 101.”

He arranges himself on the seat and closes his eyes. I take my cue and leave to find Leon.

My family home is luxurious but not especially large, yet my husband is nowhere to be found. He was in the second lounge—he and Viktor helped themselves to Dad’s liquor—but I don’t know where he is now.

The guy who Leon kneecapped is gone, too; the only evidence of his existence is a patch of sticky blood on the kitchen floor.

Did Leon save me and my father, only to leave?

Knowing he’s the boss of the bratva has done nothing to calm my raging heart.

Leon stalked me, his obsession unchecked, and stole me from the life I knew. Yet when I was in danger, he stepped in front of me without a moment’s pause, gun raised, ready to die for me.

Was he afraid? Desperately so—but not for himself. I saw it in his eyes.

He was that little boy again, wracked with guilt, terrified to act but even more frightened to lose someone else.

Afraid, but not a coward.

My old bedroom is exactly as I left it when I moved out, and it was childish even then. It has the feel of a different me, a kid who was about to strike out alone but didn’t know how sheltered she truly was.

I envy her—the girl who still thought she could save the world, blissfully ignorant of her own blind spots and weaknesses.

What I wouldn’t give to feel that way again.

Although it’s the only room left to check, opening the door and seeing Leon standing there is still a surprise.

He’s standing by the window, flipping through a photo album, and glances up when I enter, his smile guarded.

“How’s your father bearing up?” he asks.

“Sleeping it off. He’ll be okay.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says, holding up the album. “That’s good.” He closes the album, holding it up briefly. “You look like your mother. Beautiful.”

I take the book and close it, tossing it onto my bed. “Do you have to invade every part of my life?” I snap. “Can’t you leave anything untouched?”

“I want to know you,” Leon replies, voice low but steady. “I lied to you, and because of it, you almost died. Tell me—how do I move past that?”

He searches my face, his gaze as dark and intense as ever. “You don’t want my love? Fine. I don’t blame you if you hate me, but it won’t make any difference to how I feel. Hit me, spit in my eye, stab me in the heart—I’ll die at your feet if that’s what it takes to prove myself.”

He takes a step closer. “I’m a bratva pakhan, and I never back down, but for you, I’ll break every rule I’ve ever made. There’s no doubt about it—you own me.”

He strokes my lower lip with his finger. “I’m down bad for you, val’kiriya . Have mercy on your man, huh?”

I should ask what’s going on. But adrenaline still spikes my blood, and for an aphrodisiac, there’s nothing quite as potent as fear.

No wonder I’m so attracted to him.

The look on Leon’s face is pure, concentrated adoration. Even as his eyes pull me in, I feel my own power surging.

This savage creature commands armies. His name strikes fear into the hearts of his enemies.

But for me and me alone, he would beg like a dog.

Before I can stop it, my tongue darts out and licks Leon’s fingertip. He jolts like he’s been electrocuted, his other hand wrapping my throat as he pushes his finger between my lips.

He turns and moves me toward the bed, pushing me onto my back and flattening my body with his.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmurs hotly into my ear. “God fucking damn, Emery. You’ll never walk away from me again, but not because I’ll stop you.”

He grinds his hips, his hard cock pressed up against my core. “I’m gonna make you come so hard that you’ll be addicted to my touch for life. You won’t be able to so much as think of leaving.”

My head is spinning already, and every nerve is alight. Leon is so physically overwhelming; his weight, the heat of his skin, his strength as he cinches my delicate throat.

My pussy clutches and spasms, my clit already throbbing, and I can’t resist pushing against him, looking for relief.

“Fuck yeah,” Leon says. His fingers slide in and out of my mouth, choking me on the deeper strokes, and he rewards my gagging with a gentle bite of my earlobe. “That’s my good slut.”

He releases my neck and pulls his fingers free of my mouth. I draw a deep, gasping breath as he flips up my dress, tugging it over my head and throwing it on the floor.

He removes my bra in an instant, and then his lips are on my breasts, his teeth tugging at one stiff nipple.

The sensation draws a cry of pleasure from me, and Leon stops it with his fingers, reaching up to shove them in my mouth again.

“Shhh,” he whispers, lashing my tight peak with the tip of his tongue. “You gotta be quiet, Emery. Pretend I’m the boyfriend you sneaked in through the window, and you don’t want your father to hear.”

Ohhh, that’s hot . I never dared to dream about having a man as sexy as Leon dry-hump me into a desperate, pleading mess.

Imagine if those mean girls at school could see me now.

My panties are getting damp, the fabric rubbing against my clit and making my pussy juicier by the second.

“I feel that, you needy girl.” Leon chuckles and trails his soaking fingers down my body, slipping them over my panties. “You made a wet patch on my pants. I thought you’d need to get my fingers good and slippery so I can fuck them into you, but that hungry little cunt of yours doesn’t need any help, does it?”

Does he think I can respond?

I can’t even form words, let alone arrange them into coherent sentences, not with his fingertips pressing the thin material of my underwear into my sensitive clit.

I moan loudly, unable to keep it in, and he claps his hand over my mouth.

“Quiet.” He moves up my body so he can see my expression as he works my clit through my panties. “If you can’t keep your slutty noises under wraps, I’ll fuck your throat until you lose your damn voice.”

He releases my mouth for long enough to place a deep kiss on my lips before covering them with his palm again. “Now, let me watch your pretty face while you come.”

He’s gonna unravel me with his hand, and he hasn’t even taken off my underwear yet. My pussy feels almost painfully empty, and I close my eyes, waves of bliss washing over me as he does his thing.

Without warning, Leon raises his hand and spanks my pussy with his open palm.

I hear the slap a nanosecond before I feel it, but dear God, do I feel it. My eyes fly open, and I yelp into Leon’s hand.

“Look at me, val’kiriya. ” He can no longer resist, and he delves inside my panties, teasing my slick entrance. “I want you to look me right in the eyes and say my name. Will you behave?”

I nod, and he takes his hand away from my mouth. He watches my face with heavy-lidded eyes, propping himself on his elbow while his other hand roams over my pussy.

He nudges two fingers inside, stretching me, and I bite my lip.

“Who do you want?” he asks, his voice thick with lust.

“You.” I arch my back, trying to get him to push deeper. “I want you, Leon. Please make me come.”

With that, he shoves his fingers firmly into me, his thumb finding my tender clit. His face is inches from mine, his cock rubbing my hip as he moves, his eyes never leaving mine.

He’s so intoxicating . He never lets up, making me feel his obsessive need for me in every way he can, all the time.

How am I gonna learn to handle him? Do I even want to?

Or should I just lose myself to his roaming hands, those eager lips, and his big cock that’s always ready to service me?

Imagine that. Leon Vasiliev, my husband, happily caught up in slavish lust and always ready to worship at the altar of my body.

The thought pushes me past the point of no return, and I squeeze his fingers as my climax rolls through me.

“That’s it, beautiful.” He slows down, massaging my clit to extend the ecstasy as he smothers my cries with his lips. “Give it to me.”

My pussy squirts, wetness gushing onto the coverlet beneath me, and I sigh as my orgasm recedes, Leon’s fingers still pulsing inside me.

He pulls free and sits up on his knees, his erection tenting his pants, and he undoes his fly, letting it spring free.

“We’re not done here,” he murmurs, stroking his cock. “Catch your breath, moya zhena . You’ll need it.”