19. Damian
DAMIAN
I feel like I’m close to losing my fucking mind.
Nothing has ever felt as good as Sienna wrapped around me, hot and tight— so fucking tight, strangling my cock to the point that it almost hurts me , and yet it feels so fucking good.
She’s not as wet as she could be, not as wet as she’s been in the past for my fingers and my tongue, but somehow, despite all of this, she is still aroused.
As ready for me as she could possibly be, under the circumstances.
It’s proof that she wants me. Proof that this hasn’t all just been her desperation to keep the protection I offered her. But I don’t know what to do with that knowledge right now. I don’t have space for it with everything else crowding into my mind.
My entire self, every cell, feels as if it’s roiling with hate and rage and pain, with the knowledge of what I’m being forced to do, what’s been taken from Sienna and me.
The first time I’ve ever felt my wife wrapped around me, the first time I ever slid into her wet heat, took her for mine completely, was like this.
Forced. Watched. A fucking test .
Giovanni says he’s going to let us go to avoid a war, but when I get back to Konstantin …
I’m going to come back to this place and slaughter them all.
I feel like my mind is cracking open, struggling to contain it all—the rage, the hungry, bloodthirsty desire to kill every man in this room, and the impossible pleasure of Sienna under me, the sight of her wide green eyes locked on mine, her lips parted as she breathes quick and fast, and God , her fucking heat sheathing every inch of my cock…
It takes everything in me to go slow. My muscles are wound tight, the primal part of my mind screaming at me to take all of my frustration and rage out on the sweet, tender body beneath me, to fuck my way to a release that I’ve needed desperately since the moment I met her. But I’d break her, if I did.
Four years . In the back of my mind, I know it means something, but all I can grasp at this moment is that it means that I need to go slow.
To open her up to me as carefully as I can, in this situation where I have so little control, where Giovanni expects a show, not tender lovemaking.
If we were at home, I’d make her come over and over with my fingers and tongue until she was soft and malleable and dripping, so relaxed that I could take her inch by inch without causing her pain.
But her body is wringing itself so tightly around me that I can barely get into her, and in a way, it’s a good thing.
It keeps me from giving in to the need to fuck her as hard and fast as my mind is screaming for me to.
The pleasure is overwhelming. Nothing has ever felt so good.
And as I sink to the hilt in her, my hips meeting hers, my balls drawn up tight to my shaft as I fight the urge to come, guilt bleeding through every part of me at the fact that I’m so painfully aroused despite the circumstances, I hold myself there for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the size of my cock inside of her.
And then, just as I’m about to move, to give myself the friction I so desperately need, the room is plunged into darkness.
I freeze, still buried inside of Sienna, my hands moving to brace on either side of her, protecting her with my body. And then, there’s a crackle and flicker of electricity, and the room is bathed in red light as a backup source comes to life .
A second later, I hear the pounding of boots, and gunshots—a lot of them.
Relief pours through me as I snap into action. Konstantin . It must be. All around the room, I can hear Russo and his men springing into action, hear the cries and shouts and thud of boots and crack of more shots.
“What the fuck!” I hear Giovanni growl from the other side of the room, his voice muffled at the end by the sound of automatic weapons firing throughout the building.
A savage satisfaction spreads through me as I tear myself away from Sienna, grabbing her with one arm to pull her off of the table and close to my body as I shove my still-erect cock back into my pants and fix my clothing.
The emergency lighting flickers on and off, dark and then red again, and I go for the guard nearest me, shoving Sienna behind me. My arm goes around his throat, yanking him back against me as I jerk his head to one side, a sickening crunch filling the air for a split second as I break his neck.
When he drops to the floor, his weapon is in my hand. I turn to look at Sienna, who is frozen wide-eyed behind me, her chest heaving. “Stay down,” I order her. “Stay behind me.”
Another guard raises his weapon, but I’m faster. The gunshot is impossibly loud in the enclosed space, and the guard drops like a stone.
"You fucking—" Giovanni starts, but I cut him off with a hard punch to the jaw that sends the older man sprawling.
"That's for touching my wife," I snarl, looming over him. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see another guard aiming at me, and I shoot to the side, dropping him as I glare down at Russo. “The only reason I’m not killing you now is because I want to do it slow. And I need to get my wife to safety.”
The gunfire outside of the room is getting closer now. I can hear Konstantin shouting commands, likely cutting down Russo’s men faster than they can regroup.
I knew he would find us. I’m just glad it wasn’t too late .
Too late for what? Sienna is alive, and so am I, and there’s a good chance we’ll get out of here that way. But something was lost tonight, something that can’t be gotten back, and the weight of it feels like a stone in my chest.
“We need to move.” I glance back at her quickly. “This place is a war zone. I need to get you out of here.”
Sienna nods, her face pale in the flickering red light. “What about him?” she breathes, looking at Giovanni, who has rolled onto his side and is spitting out blood onto the concrete floor.
“I’ll come back for him,” I promise her through gritted teeth. “Later. When you’re safe.”
The door to the room explodes inward, and three men in tactical gear sweep into the room. Konstantin comes in behind them, as a rattle of gunfire takes out the last of the guards in the room.
Konstantin looks at me. “You alright? Both of you?”
“We’ll be fine,” I say quickly. “How many of Russo’s men are left?”
“We took out most of them. Some went out the back.” Konstantin pauses. “Were there other girls besides Sienna?”
I glance at her, and she shakes her head. “I didn’t see any.”
“Alright.” Konstantin glances toward Russo. I see the anger building in his eyes, and I clear my throat.
“I want Sienna out of here. Safe.”
Konstantin looks at me and nods. “Alright. Let’s get out of here. He won’t be able to do anything about it right now, anyway.”
We move through the corridor, Sienna behind me, my weapon at the ready, surrounded by Konstantin’s men as we head for the entrance to the warehouse.
The air is thick with the smell of concrete dust and hot metal, blood and gunpowder, and bodies litter the path on our way out—Russo men who thought they could take on the Abramov Bratva and learned too late how wrong they were.
"This way," one of Konstantin's men says, leading us toward an exit.
The night air, briny from the docks, still feels like fucking heaven after being trapped inside that warehouse. Konstantin leads us to a convoy of black SUVs, his usually immaculate appearance disheveled from combat. He nods to the men to disperse, looking at Sienna and me.
“Thank fuck we got here in time. When you didn’t check in?—”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Konstantin glances at Sienna. “Are you hurt?” he asks again, and she shakes her head, though I know she must be in pain.
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “Just—” she shifts to show the cuffs on her wrists, and Konstantin motions to one of his men, who comes forward with a lockpick to get them loose. The moment they fall off, Sienna rubs her wrists with each hand, relief clear in her face.
“Damian?” He looks at me, and I nod.
“Let’s get home.”
Sienna follows me into one of the SUVs, sitting tense and still next to me.
I don’t know what to do or what to say. I want to pull her into my arms, to stroke her hair and whisper promises to her, to tell her how sorry I am.
But I have no idea which words should come first, or how to show that much affection.
That’s never been the man that I am. And I don’t know how to break free of years of conditioning to be what it is that I am.
The mansion feels like a sanctuary when we finally pull through the gates, but I can't shake the tension that's coiled tight in my shoulders.
My hands are still steady—they always are after violence—but inside I'm fucking rattled in a way I haven't been since I was a green kid taking orders from Victor Abramov.
It's because of her. Because of what almost happened to Sienna.
I keep replaying the moment when Giovanni's men dragged her into that room, the terror in her eyes before she buried it under determination.
The way she dropped to her knees, willing to do whatever she needed to in order to help save us—the way she looked at me when I was inside her, like I was the only thing in her world that mattered.
The sound she made when she took me inside of her for the first time.
Christ. Even now, even after everything, my body responds to the memory. I'm half-hard just thinking about how she felt around me .
I need to get my head straight. Need to focus on making sure she's safe, that Adam is safe, on what happens next to put this Russo threat to bed once and for all.
But my mind is full of her , of what she makes me feel, and how to make right what happened in that warehouse.
What I had to do—what we both had to do.
We need to talk about it, and talking has never been my strong point. It’s never been something that I know how to do.