Chapter 33
Alina
Every second Gavriil spoons behind me, his arm around my waist as if holding me hostage, causes a new type of guilt to develop.
I don’t think he’s slept all night.
Neither have I.
This is a sweet sort of intimacy with him that I could get used to.
That’s why I feel so bad about manipulating him.
Despite all the horrible things he’s put me through, I know that letting himself be even a little vulnerable with me is rare for him.
It feels like a gift.
One that I’m taking advantage of or squandering when I should be more grateful.
But it feels wrong to be falling for the man who killed my brother. For letting him touch me, kiss me, hold me.
Minutes pass, though, and I’m not strong enough to leave his bed, to leave him.
One of these days, my guilt may very well tear me in half.
While my conscience is continuing to wage war inside me, Gavriil quietly says my name.
“Yes?”
“If I let Dominik go, let him take you with him, would you return after the fighting is over?”
My heart drops.
“Just to fulfill your original agreement for the rest of the month,” he rushes to add.
“Gavriil,” I whisper as I cover his hand on my stomach.
After a few moments of silence, he says, “You won’t come back if I let you go.”
“No, that’s not…I don’t know, but there’s something I need to tell you,” I say, hating myself for opening my mouth but unable to stop. “When you release Dom, what you said about him stabbing you in the back, you might be right.”
I hold my breath as I wait for him to erupt in anger. To lash out at me for deceiving him.
“I know.”
That’s it. That’s all he says.
“You know?” I ask as I finally glance over my shoulder to see his face in the dark.
“He’s wanted me dead since I made him pull the trigger on Archer.”
I can’t help but wince at the brutal reminder. “You know that and you’re still considering releasing him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s still a chance that I can convince him to fight beside me instead of against me. You’re the one who said I needed him.”
“And if you fail?”
“I die.”
“Gavriil!” I exclaim. “I just stayed awake all night trying to figure out how to tell you so that you don’t die.”
“I won’t allow him the chance. I know Dominik will try to take over as Pakhan. He may give the Bratva a chance at surviving the war if he managed to kill me. But he can’t go to war and keep you safe, so he’ll have to make a choice.”
I groan at the thought of Dom facing another impossible decision.
When I try to sit up, to turn around and talk to him, Gavriil drags me back down to the mattress. “Stay with me a little longer...”
Rolling over to face him, I clasp his face between my palms. “You can’t kill Dominik.”
“It’s going to be him or me one of these days, printsessa.”
“No,” I say. “No, Gavriil! That’s unacceptable. You two have to work things out.”
He groans and then his lips cover mine. “I do love it when you scream my name.”
“Gavriil,” I whisper, placing my palm on his chest to keep him from trying to distract me. “I know that you would literally do anything for Dominik. He told me…about your father.”
“What about our father?” he asks with a frown and a crease between his brows.
“He told me what you did, how you saved his life. Is that where the scars on your abdomen came from? Why you have nightmares?”
Gavriil’s bearded jaw ticks underneath my fingers. “He should not have told you any of that.”
I stroke my fingers through his neatly shaved beard, trying to ease the tension.
“I’m glad he told me.” I always thought there was more to Gavriil, and finding out what he did for Dom proved it.
“I hate that I was the one who came between you two. But you’ve been taking advantage of Dom’s loyalty for years. Why?”
“I’m his Pakhan,” he says simply.
I shake my head. “It’s more than that. Were you…are you jealous of him?”
“Of course,” he grits out.
“Why?” I ask.
“You know why.” His finger traces the curve of my lips while he says, “My brother is a good man,” he replies. “I’m not. He’s loved and respected by our men while I’m…”
“Feared,” I finish for him.
“Yes.”
“And whose fault is that, Gavriil?”
“Mine,” he answers quietly.
Pressing my lips to his, I tell him, “You could be loved and respected too, you know.”
He pulls away. “No. I can’t. As soon as I show any sign of weakness as Pakhan, it’s over. I’ll lose everything.”
I open my mouth to argue that, to ask if he even wants to be Pakhan, when there’s a sudden knock on our door.
Gavriil groans and closes his eyes for a second. Then, he rolls away from me, throws back the bedding, and storms over to the door. Ripping it open in just his sweatpants, he growls a phrase in Russian that I assume means something like, “What the fuck do you want?”
I don’t hear the voice of whoever is on the other side of the door or what they say, only Gavriil’s response of, “Give me two minutes to get dressed,” before he slams the door.
Sitting up, clutching the sheets to my chest, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“No. It’s not,” he replies as he hurries to the walk-in closet. “Matvei needs to speak to me now. Whatever it is, it can’t wait. Everything is fucking falling apart!”
I hear a clatter and a curse from inside, as if he’s losing his temper.
It feels like my fault yet again. Mine and Dominik’s.
So, I decide it’s my responsibility to try and cool him down before he has to handle the next emergency.
Slipping out of bed in just my panties, I make my way to where the light is spilling from the walk-in closet right as Gavriil shoves his sweatpants down his legs and steps out of them. His back is to me, and he doesn’t hear me when I walk up and place my hand on his spine.
When he spins around to face me, he glares down at me. “You should get back in the cage.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” I repeat, because I know that’s not really what he wants, that he’s just lashing out, feeling out of control.
Placing a kiss on his chest, I tell him, “You need to calm down.” I grab the waistband of his boxer briefs to jerk them down his legs. The move frees his cock that’s half hard, as if the briefest touch of skin is all it takes for me to turn him on.
“I have to go, Alina,” he says, voice deepening, but shaky when my fingers wrap around his shaft. “There’s no time…”
“Then I better use my mouth,” I say as I drop to my knees.
Russian words spill from Gavriil in a rush. They don’t sound like objections. Especially when he gathers up all my hair in a makeshift ponytail before I’ve even licked his slit. “Hurry,” he says in English as he guides my head forward, urging me to take him into my mouth.
My lips part, allowing him entry. When I glance up at his face, I expect him to be looking down at me furious, annoyed, anything but…
desperate. That’s the expression on his face, though.
He’s desperate to fill my mouth, so I open wide and let him take control, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now.
Gavriil starts with slow, shallow strokes, but that doesn’t last long before he’s fucking my mouth urgently, furiously. I gag a few times while he issues demands in his guttural native language. They’re all pretty easy to translate.
Yes. Fuck. Take me deeper. So good. I’m coming. Swallow me. Please don’t stop.
Something that sounds like Ya tebya lyublyu is repeated in between.
I increase suction at the first taste of his salty flavor and Gavriil explodes with a strangled cry of my name. His hips pump faster, shoving him down my throat.
I struggle to take everything he gives me, but even still, I’m so turned on by his rough treatment that my fingers slip between my legs, down my panties, to give me my own relief. I moan around his girth as I bring myself over the edge.
My thighs are still trembling when Gavriil grabs my shoulders, pulling me to my feet and pressing my back to the doorframe to kiss me.
“Spasibo,” he eventually says against my lips, his forehead pressed to mine. I assume that means thank you.
“You’re welcome,” I reply breathlessly when he finally pulls his lips away. He doesn’t let me go, though.
“Why?” he asks. “Why did you…”
“Because it’s what you needed. And I wanted to help you relax.”
His lips crush mine again, then he says, “It may be what I needed, but now I don’t want to leave you.”
“Go. I’ll be here when you get back,” I tell him.
Something passes over his face though and he shakes his head.
“No. Don’t wait for me. You’ll want to head on down the hall.”
“Down the hall?” I repeat in confusion. Ulyana is back this early?
With a slight smirk, he adds, “You should probably shower and brush your teeth as well.” Turning me around toward the open door he swats my ass. “Go on.”
“Fine. I’ll brush my teeth, but I like smelling like you,” I tell him over my shoulder.
I would give anything to be able to translate his choked response into English.