Chapter 37
Ilya
I follow the scent of baking into the kitchen. Since Irelynn’s arrival, Polina has been baking more. Apparently, my Little Blue has a sweet tooth, and Polina likes to sate it. It’s the grandmother in her who tried, but never could have children of her own. She’s taken Irelynn under her wing, teaching her how to cook and bake. Spending time with her, watching over her, and even going so far as to warn me to treat her well.
I appreciate that she cares for her as she does.
I last left Irelynn here to play a round or two of games as I took a call from my brother, who was none too happy about the destruction one tiny woman did to a very large, very luxuriously decorated room.
My suggestion had been to put her in the dungeon.
The fact Kirill had paused as though to consider it told me everything about how his life had been since I’d delivered Ruby to him. My brother may not have been born with a stomach for torture, but I knew well enough that he’d do whatever it took to keep his family safe. And right now, keeping the little demon (his words) from her father was the best way to do so.
He”d interrogated her about Ivan, just as Misha had before he’d dropped her on Kirill’s doorstep, kicking and screaming and, much to Kirill’s ire, sobbing.
Nothing got to him quite like the tears of a woman.
I’m confident he’s cursed my name more than once over the last week.
“Where is Irelynn?” I ask as Polina rolls another ball of cookie dough.
“With the dogs.”
“Luka or Boris?”
She eyes me. “Luka.”
I nod, wishing for once it would be Boris. Boris, however, seems to prefer taking the shifts where she’s in our room or reading her books. He stands sentry quietly, and distantly.
Boris has always been distant, so it’s no surprise. Still, I can’t help feeling the unfamiliar burn of jealousy when I leave her alone with Luka. I know nothing would ever happen, Luka wouldn’t dare, but I can’t capture her heart the same as I captured her body. What if she grew feelings for him?
Fuck. She’s driving me crazy.
Touching her, listening to her pant and moan in the dark of the night—making her come…
I want inside her. I want to claim her.
I want her to ask me. I want her to invite me inside.
I want her to want me like I want her. I want her to burn and yearn for me as I do her.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I shovel a cookie into my mouth in time to hear Misha laugh.
“Girl’s with them dogs every chance she gets.” Misha makes Polina smile wide when he swipes a stack of cookies, shoving one into his mouth at a time. “Best be careful, or they won’t be your murder weapons anymore. They’ll be hers.” He pops another cookie into his mouth, and chewing, says, “Only a matter of time before she sics them on you.”
I don’t reply as I walk from the room to find my woman.
She’s quiet as she walks beside me into our room. She’s been quiet for the last couple days, and I know she is struggling. I assume it’s because of the approaching holiday, and the grief she feels over the loss of her parents that still haunts her.
Opening the door, she slips into the room and moves instantly to greet her cat. He’s sprawled on the bed, on my side of the bed, as though he’s the king of this room and this house. Before her hand even connects, the cat is purring loudly.
Her blue eyes lift to mine, and she asks softly, “Do you think we can let him roam the house freely? He’s a people person, so he’ll just love making friends with Polina and Daniil.”
She wants him to roam free? Does that mean she’s accepted her fate here, to remain with me?
My heart quickens.
“I can’t see why not.”
“He won’t run outside. He’s never been outside, so I don’t think he has the urge.” She worries her lip. “But if he happened to get outside, or the girls got in—would he be okay?”
“They’ve never attacked a small animal to my knowledge. They don’t even chase the rabbits.” I watch as her worry begins to ease. “They are well trained, but if it would make you more comfortable, we can introduce him to them, so they know he is not to be harmed.”
“I’d like that.” She shifts so she’s facing me. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“I have a surprise for you.” A question fills her eyes, but she waits for me to explain. “I would like to take you out tonight. On a date.”
Pretty pink lips part before a pretty pink tongue pokes out to wet them. Blue eyes dip to the floor before finding mine again. “You’re not afraid I’ll run from you?”
“If you do, I’ll catch you.” I take a step closer to her. “I will always catch you, Irelynn.”
A small, playful smile stretches her lips. “So you keep telling me.”
“Do you intend to test me, Little Blue?”
She shakes her head, but there’s something enchanting about the look in her eyes. She has a secret. A dark thought she doesn’t wish me to know.
I want to exhume it from her.
Finally, she murmurs, “Not tonight.”
What does that mean? Does she still intend to escape me? Or does she just want me to chase her?
Heat burns in my blood at the thought of the latter.
I shift, clear my throat, and move into the closet. I re-emerge with a lovely sapphire blue gown my mother chose and delivered for this night. Her lips part and a gasp sounds.
“Where did you get that?”
“My mother had it delivered for you.”
“It’s beautiful.” She’s awed, I can see it. Pride swells inside every inch of me. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” I deny her the information, loving the way her brows crunch in a cute little frown.
“Ilya…”
I love when she says my name.
“While we’re on the subject of surprises.” I move to lay the dress on the bed, shooting a look of warning at the cat to stay off. I take her hand. “Come.”
I guide her into the bathroom, watching as her eyes land on the new stack of body butter. The same she’d sobbed over not long ago.
Her eyes dart to me and her lip quivers.
Fuck, don’t cry.
“You bought these for me?” Why does she sound so broken? This was supposed to make her happy.
“Do you like it?” Tension spreads through me. I’d ordered these while she’d been asleep on my chest, in my suit, in the dead of the night. I’d been trying to make her?—
I don’t have time to finish the thought, because she’s flung her arms around my shoulders, her legs around my waist. Blood rushes to fill my dick as my hands grab her, holding her to me. Then she crushes her mouth to mine in a kiss that sears me to my soul.
It’s the second time she’s kissed me of her own accord. Unlike the first, that was far too short and tasted of grief, this kiss is fire.
I can’t help myself. I take over.
Crushing her to the wall, I demand entrance with my tongue. When she moans, I rock my hips into her core, fucking hating the clothing that separates us. My hands are everywhere, over the curve of her ass, her waist, her breasts, and back down again to the hem of her shirt. The need to feel her skin under my hands is a desperate ache I’m helpless to deny as I press my palms into the skin of her back, dragging them up and down.
When she rocks her hips into me, as though seeking the very part of me that burns to sink deep inside her, I know if I don’t stop this, I’ll take it too far. I’m hovering at the edge of control, pushed to the ledge one too many times by this beautiful woman who captured my heart with just one look. It was only fair play I capture her body. Now, it’s a matter of war who wins the soul.
Tearing her mouth from mine, my breaths fall heavy to mix with hers as I rest my forehead against hers. When I’m confident I’ve gathered myself just enough to look into her eyes, I pull back.
She’s beautiful. Exquisite. Flushed cheeks and blue eyes burning with desire.
I huff a laugh. “Remind me to buy body products for you often.”
She laughs. The sound is a balm to my ravaged, sin-coated being. “Thank you, Ilya. It means more to me than you can know.”
I want to kiss her again. If I kiss her again, I won’t stop.
I set her on the ground, watching her cautiously as I say, “Get yourself ready and meet me downstairs.”
With that, I press a kiss to her forehead. And then I do one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.
I walk away from her.