Chapter 14 Daniil #2
I lean against the desk, my arms folded across my chest. The marble is solid against my back, grounding me as I prepare to reveal secrets I've kept buried for years.
“You want the truth? Fine.” I draw a deep breath, tasting smoke and leather and the faint scent of her lavender perfume that seems to permeate every corner of this house now.
“Viktor has never been my ally. He is two years younger than me, close enough in age that we grew up together, played in the same rooms, and learned the same lessons. But he has lived every moment of his life convinced that I stole what was rightfully his.”
I pause, watching her face for any sign of judgment or fear, but find only attentive concern.
“His father was my father's brother. Shurik Zorin, a man who believed birthright trumped capability, who thought the world owed him deference simply because of the family name he carried. By the old traditions, when the Bratva throne should have changed hands after my father was killed, Viktor believed his bloodline should have inherited the crown. That his father should have become pakhan and ruled the organization my grandfather built from nothing.”
Naomi's eyes widen slightly, processing the implications of dynastic succession in a world where power is measured in blood and bullets. “So, Viktor thinks it should have been him that was next in line. Not you.”
“Exactly.” My voice carries the burden of years spent defending my legitimacy.
“But it was my mother, Galina, who rose to claim the throne when the smoke cleared.
She was stronger, smarter, and ruthless enough to take what others could only dream of possessing.
While Shurik postured and demanded recognition, she acted.
While he gathered supporters for a future claim, she eliminated opposition in the present.
She understood that power is not inherited, it's seized.”
The memory of my mother still brings a complex mixture of pride and pain. Galina Zorin had been a force of nature, beautiful and terrible, loving and lethal. She'd taught me that sentiment was fragility the powerful couldn’t risk, and mercy was weakness that enemies would exploit.
“Viktor grew up in my shadow,” I continue, the words coming easier now that I've begun the telling.
“Watched as Galina built an empire that he thought his father should have ruled. Watched as resources and respect flowed to our branch of the family while his father remained a bitter lieutenant, always second in command, never the leader. His father died angry and resentful, convinced until his last breath that the universe had conspired against him. And Viktor inherited every ounce of that bitterness and nursed it like a flame in the darkness.”
I move away from the desk, needing motion to channel the restless energy that builds whenever I think about my cousin's festering resentment.
“He has carried that poison all his life, let it corrupt every interaction, every relationship.
To him, the Bratva seat is his birthright stolen by interlopers.
To him, I'm an imposter wearing a crown that belongs on his head.”
She shifts in the chair, the cotton nightshirt rustling softly, drawing my attention to the elegant line of her legs. Even while discussing deadly family politics, she affects me, pulling my focus away from strategy and toward desire. “And you think he would try to take it from you?”
“I know,” I correct, turning back to meet her gaze directly. “He's been waiting his entire life for the right moment, the perfect opportunity. He would use anything and anyone, to achieve his goal.” My jaw tightens as the next words force themselves past my lips. “Including you.”
She processes this information with the quick intelligence I've come to admire, seeing the connections and implications without needing them spelled out. Then she swallows hard, her throat working visibly. “That's why you don't want me out of sight.”
“Yes.” The word emerges sharp and rough, carved from granite and desperation.
Her gaze lingers on my face, reading expressions I cannot hide from her anymore. “But it's not just about protecting me, is it? It's about protecting yourself.”
The truth cuts deeper than her voice, slicing through defenses I've spent years constructing.
She sees too much and understands too clearly the selfish motivations that drive my protective instincts.
I move closer, drawn by forces I cannot resist, until I can smell lavender clinging to her skin and see the gold flecks in her brown eyes.
“You think I'm selfish,” I murmur, close enough now that my breath stirs the dark strands of her hair.
“I think you're human,” she whispers back, and those three words contain more absolution than any priest could offer.
For a moment, I can't breathe. I should step back and maintain the distance that keeps us both safe from complications. Instead, I lower my head, my lips brushing the air above hers, close enough to share breath but not quite touching. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her breath hitches audibly, her eyes darting down to my mouth and then back up, caught between desire and uncertainty. “Then show me.”
The leash snaps. All the control I've maintained crumbles in an instant.
My mouth crushes hers, devouring her gasp as she clutches my shirt, dragging me closer.
My hand tangles in the silk of her hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands as I tilt her head back to deepen the kiss.
The taste of her floods through me, addictive and intoxicating, better than the finest whiskey, more potent than any drug.
She opens for me completely, no hesitation, just pure surrender that makes my head spin.
I press her against the desk, my body caging hers between solid marble and solid muscle.
The thought of Viktor's eyes on her fuels the fire burning in my veins, jealousy and possession scorching through every nerve ending.
My mouth trails from her lips to her jaw, following the delicate line of bone beneath velvet skin, then down the graceful curve of her throat where her pulse thrums wildly beneath my lips like a captive bird.
I lift her onto the edge of my desk, forcing her thighs apart with a sharp shove of my hands. Her shirt rides up, baring the soft skin of her legs, and I press between them.
“You think Viktor’s eyes on you mean anything?” My teeth sink into her neck, biting until she moans. I suck the skin, leaving my mark. “You think he could ever touch you like this? No. You’re mine.”
Her breath stutters. “Daniil…”
I shove the flimsy barrier of her panties aside and slide two fingers inside her, slow and ruthless. She gasps, her nails clawing into my shoulders. She’s already wet, her body gripping me tight, clenching around every thrust of my hand.
I curl my fingers deep, pressing hard against her clit with my thumb, circling mercilessly. Her moans break free, ragged and pleading, her hips rolling against my palm.
“Please,” she gasps.
“Not enough.” I snarl against her throat, biting again, leaving another bruise. “Beg for it.”
Her head tilts back, lips parted, eyes wide. “I—”
“Beg, Naomi.” I thrust harder, faster. “Say it. Say you need me to let you come.”
Her body arches, trembling, fighting the wave I’m holding just out of reach. “P-please, Daniil,” she cries, her voice breaking. “I need it. I need you.”
My teeth scrape along her collarbone. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she sobs, desperate, her nails raking down my back. “Yours, Daniil. Please—”
That’s what I’ve been waiting for. I grind my thumb harder against her clit, thrusting my fingers in deep strokes.
She shatters around me, her scream muffled against my chest as her orgasm rips through her.
She trembles violently, her thighs clamping around my wrist, but I don’t stop until she’s gasping, boneless against me.
I pull my fingers free, slick with her release, and drag them into my mouth, tasting her while she watches, dazed and shaking. Her blush rises, her lips parted, and I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, letting her taste herself on my tongue.
But I’m not finished. I grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “No, little dove. I’m going to ruin you until you can’t remember anyone else’s name but mine.”
Before she can answer, I rip her shirt over her head, stripping her bare. She gasps, trying to cover herself, but I pin her wrists against the desk with one hand, my mouth crushing hers again until she surrenders.
Then I drag her to the window. The glass looms high, cold, and unyielding, overlooking the dark grounds below. I press her body against it, her breasts flattening against the pane, her palms splayed against the cold surface. She gasps as the chill seeps into her skin.
“Do you know what this is?” I whisper in her ear. “It’s my kingdom. And I want every inch of it to know you’re mine.”
My hand slips between her thighs again, fingers parting her folds, slick and ready from the orgasm I already gave her. I thrust them inside, faster this time, harder, my palm slapping against her clit with every movement.
She cries out, her breath fogging the glass, her body arching helplessly against me. “Daniil—oh God—”
“Louder,” I snarl, my teeth scraping her shoulder. “Let them hear you. Let the walls know who makes you scream like this.”
Her hips slam back against my hand, desperate, needy, as I work her mercilessly against the window. Her moans echo in the room, high and frantic, her nails scratching at the glass.
“Come again for me,” I growl, my hand moving at a relentless pace. “Do it. Now.”
Her body convulses, the orgasm tearing through her with brutal force. She screams my name, her voice shattering against the glass as she trembles violently, collapsing against the pane, slick and undone.
I hold her there, pressed against the window, my breath harsh in her ear.
My hand lingers between her thighs, stroking her through the aftershocks until she’s shaking too hard to stand.
Finally, I drag her back against my chest, my arm wrapped tightly around her waist. I kiss the mark I left on her throat, slow and possessive.
“My mark is on you now,” I whisper roughly with hunger and jealousy. “And if Viktor ever dares to look at you again, I’ll cut his eyes out.”
She shudders, her body still trembling in my arms, her answer a broken gasp of my name. And God help me, I’ve never wanted anyone more.