Chapter 50 Petyr
PETYR
Back in the car, Ivan sits quietly across from me.
The city lights flicker over his worn face as we ride. His hands won’t rest on his knees—the fingers tap, then still, tap, then still, over and over again.
He breaks the silence first. “The crew is on cleanup,” he tells me after a quick glance at his phone. “They’ll wipe away any trace of us. It’ll be like we were never there.”
I give a curt nod. “Good.”
My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but he doesn’t flinch. He never does. Instead, his eyes hold mine, steady. Remind me without words that I’m not alone in this.
He lowers his voice. “Boris is gone, Petyr. His territory’s wide open now. If we don’t move fast, the Danilos will.”
I drag a hand down my jaw. My muscles ache from how hard I’m clenching them. “His body isn’t even cold yet. You want me to plant my flag before the man’s blood dries?”
“I don’t want you to.” His gaze levels with mine. “Your Bratva needs you to.”
I clench my fist over the leather of the backseat. It feels wrong, stepping over the corpse of a man we were supposed to be allied with.
But at the same time, I know my uncle’s got a point. Our world isn’t merciful. Never has been, never will be.
Ivan leans forward slightly. The overhead light catches the gray in his hair. “I want you alive, nephew,” he says simply. “I want our people safe. That means we don’t leave gaps. If you don’t take it, Anatoli will. You know that.”
I exhale hard through my nose and lean back against the leather seat.
I hate that he’s right. I always have. But it’s one of the reasons I trust him. He doesn’t tell me what I want to hear—he tells me what I need to hear.
“I know,” I admit quietly. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
For a moment, the hardness slips from his expression. He studies me the way he has since I was a boy. Half soldier, half uncle, all family. “You don’t have to like it, Petyr. You just have to survive it. That’s what matters.”
My throat tightens, but I nod once. “You’ve kept me alive this long.”
“And I’ll keep doing it,” he replies, no hesitation. His mouth pulls into the faintest of smiles. “But you’re the pakhan now. My job’s just to make sure you never forget what that means.”
Despite the night’s carnage and the blood still leaking out of corpses somewhere behind us, warmth flickers in my chest. Whatever else this life takes from me, Ivan is still here.
For now. The thought of the traitor lingers. What will he try to take from me next?
Ivan gets out in front of his apartment. “Be careful, Petyr,” he says as he parts from me. “These are desperate times. Desperate times breed desperate people. And desperate people—”
“Are dangerous,” I cut in. “I know. Get some sleep, Uncle.”
The rest of the drive home is a blur, but my body refuses to wind down. Adrenaline still buzzes under my skin like static, leaving me wired, restless, hungry for some kind of release. I should be bone-tired after tonight, but my mind won’t let me stop.
It’s hung up on a single, obvious point: I could have died tonight. If I’d moved a second slower, if my return fire had been off, I’d be lying in a pool of my own blood instead of Boris.
And Sima would be at home. Alone, vulnerable. Unprotected. That idea ices my veins more than the gunfire ever did.
The car barely stops before I’m out. I take the steps two at a time, jam the elevator button and head upstairs fast. I need to see her. Need proof she’s safe.
The living area is quiet, but when I push open our bedroom door, I freeze.
The lights are on. The bed is still made, untouched. Empty.
I feel a rush of panic. For one savage heartbeat, I think she’s gone. Taken. The deal undone and my world ripped out from under me.
Then I hear her voice.
“Petyr? You okay?”
It comes from the corner of the room. She’s curled in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, legs pulled up, eyes uneasy.
Relief hits me hard enough I almost stagger. “You waited up.”
Her fingers twist in her lap. “I have to talk to you.”
“Later.” I stride across the room straight toward her.
As soon as I’m within reach, I haul her up from the chair and into my chest, holding her tight enough to hurt. Right now, I don’t want words. I just need her close.
But even this—her in my arms, warm, fragrant—isn’t enough. I need more proof that she’s still here with me.
My hands fist in the hem of her t-shirt, yanking it up and over her head and baring her skin to me. Then I duck down and nip at the soft underside of her breast.
Sima arches into me with a startled cry. “Ah!”
Her nipples pebble under my tongue as I suck and nip, wild and desperate. Faint red marks rise around one nipple before I move to the other.
Her underwear tears easily under my grip, a sharp rip that makes her gasp while my mouth is still on her breasts.
Closer, closer. More, more. I can’t fucking get enough. That’s the goddamn truth. Sima’s body is a drug, and I’m tired of pretending I haven’t gotten addicted. That I’m not about to go insane every time I’m forced to be apart from her.
I drag my mouth down from her breasts and leave a hungry trail of kisses across her ribs, her stomach, lower and lower. Mark every inch, then settle between her thighs.
Before she can say a word, my mouth is on her center.
I press her back against the mattress and bury my face between her thighs. I lap at her until she’s trembling, until her fingers claw at the sheets, until she cries out my name like it’s the only one she knows.
Even then, I don’t let up. My tongue drags slowly over her swollen clit, then dips lower. I savor every delicious fucking sound she makes. She squirms and gasps. Her legs tighten around my head until I have to grip her hips to hold her still, to keep her spread open for me.
I suck her clit into my mouth and she jerks with a strangled cry.
“God, don’t stop,” she begs in a high-pitched whimper. I look up to meet her eyes. When I growl against her, another shudder tears through her body.
That’s when she comes—me exhaling into her, snarling with relief that she’s unharmed, our eyes locked together.
Her chest heaves. Her whole body shakes as wave after wave crashes through her.
“Stop?” I look up at her. Her gaze is blown, clouded. “I’m not planning to, lisichka.”
My fingers slide inside her as I speak. With two deep thrusts, I find that spot that makes her curl. I work her with my hand while my mouth stays on her clit, pumping her full until she’s writhing helplessly, begging louder for more.
“Please, Petyr, make me come,” she whimpers.
I answer with a growl and suck her harder. “You taste so fucking good.”
“Petyr—!”
“Come,” I order. “Be a good girl and come for me.”
Her cry breaks sharp, back arching as she shatters against my tongue. Her orgasm rips through her while I hold her down and take every twitch she gives me.
“Good girl.” I kiss her pussy through the waves of her orgasm. “That’s it. Give it to me.”
When she’s panting, wrung out and shaking, I drag myself up and tug my zipper down.
I don’t bother with the rest. Pants shoved to my knees is enough.
I line up and drive into her in one hard thrust. Her heat grips me tight, and I groan. My eyes nearly roll back at the feel of her. Hot. Wet. Perfect.
“Fuck, little fox,” I hiss through my teeth as I slam into her. “So tight for me. Mine. You hear me? Say it.”
“Yes,” she moans, head thrown back. “Yours.”
I pound into her harder, faster, my breath ragged, my control shredded. Her nails rake down my back as her cries grow louder and needier.
“You love when I take you like this, don’t you?” I snarl into her ear. “Begging me for it. You’ll never want anyone else.”
She sobs out a broken “Yes,” and I feel her walls clench tighter.
The bed creaks under our rhythm, our bodies slick with sweat. Inside, I’m unraveling, half-feral at the sight of her coming apart beneath me. Her need strips me of every ounce of control. She makes me a fucking animal.
I growl low and bite her ear. “Say it,” I order harshly. “Say you’ll never want anyone else.”
She gasps, clings on tighter. “I… I’ll never want anyone else. I’m yours. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours—”
My cock is pounding into her sweet spot now. Sima’s body spasms under me with every thrust.
“I’m gonna—” she pants, too close for words. “I’m—”
“Come for me.” I hook her leg around my shoulder, drive my cock deeper inside her. “Let me feel how tight you get for me.”
She cries out as she breaks, and the sound of her coming undone drags me with her. My release tears through me as I bury myself deep inside and spill into her with a guttural roar. I see stars. The image of my seed filling her makes my head spin.
Mine. All fucking mine.
I collapse against her, chest heaving, my mouth pressed to her neck. Even now, utterly drained, I can’t stop touching her, can’t stop holding her like she might vanish if I let go.
After the last of the aftershocks has shivered through me, I roll off her. We’re both flat on our backs. Our chests rise and fall hard. Sweat cools on our skin.
I glance over at her. “You’re fucking amazing.”
“Yeah,” she laughs awkwardly. “Also, I’m pregnant.”