Chapter Forty-two
Inna Grace
“I just don’t understand.” I moved through the hotel room, still trying to process the entire day, reaching behind me for the zip of my dress.
“Your family is genuinely strange. Do you three always fight like that?” I worked the zipper down and slid the dress off my shoulders.
“Why would Rodion punch Roman? There has to be a story there.” The fabric pooled around my feet, and I stepped out of it.
“Did you and Roman do something to him? Because that level of cold doesn’t come from nowhere.
That kind of resentment builds for years. ”
Dmitri stood near the door, removing his watch. “You’re taking his side now?” he asked.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m asking a question.
” I reached behind me and unclipped my bra.
“And Roman. He has really changed. Kicking those girls out like that? He looked at them like their existence offended him personally.” I shook my head.
“And can we talk about the fact that nobody seems concerned that Roman is apparently an officer? Because I have questions about that too.”
Dmitri stepped behind me. His hands moved to my bra straps and slid them down my shoulders. “Would you stop talking about my family for one hour today?”
“I’m just curious.” I sighed and let it go because pushing further would turn it into an argument.
We were in a hotel in New York, and the day was finally over. Roman owned a mansion, but apparently, they didn’t live together. Alessia and Rodion disappeared into their own hotel somewhere in the city. The Konstantinovs gathered for meetings and scattered again like a storm system breaking apart.
“Alessia is lovely. Are we seeing them tomorrow?” I asked. “We were talking about Grandma’s birthday, and I forgot to get her number.”
“No,” Dmitri’s hands settled on my hips from behind.
“Why not? I need to plan something—”
“We’re meeting someone,” he said.
His hands moved down my thighs. I steadied myself with one hand on his shoulder and wriggled out of my panties, stepping free of them. “Who are we meeting instead?”
He straightened and moved in front of me. I looked up at his face, then followed his gaze downward. He was staring at my chest. I was completely naked.
I snatched the dress off the floor and pressed it against myself.
How the fuck did I just undress in front of this man?
He even helped me, and I didn’t notice because I’d been too busy talking.
Now he stood there with that smug look on his face, as if he’d watched the entire disaster unfold in real time and enjoyed every second.
“I’ll go take a shower.” I turned quickly and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me before leaning against it.
What the hell just happened? When did I become this comfortable around him?
The doorknob twisted, and I jumped away from it. The door opened, and Dmitri walked in.
“You want to shower too?” The words came out too fast.
“Don’t you think you should undress me first?”
“What?”
He stepped closer and took my hands, placing them against his chest. “We’ve done enough together to stop pretending this is complicated.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I said. “Nobody is pretending.”
“Hm.” He dropped his hands and left mine where they were.
He kept his hands to himself while I worked through the buttons of his shirt, which was surprising in itself. I pushed the fabric off his shoulders, and my eyes caught on the scar near his shoulder, the same wound I cleaned in that penthouse bathroom what felt like a lifetime ago.
When I looked up, he was already watching me. Waiting.
I moved to his belt and unbuckled it before reaching for the zip of his trousers. I kept my eyes on his while I pulled it down. There was something heavy and deep in his expression tonight.
“What?” I asked, my hands pausing against his waistband.
“The trousers.”
I gripped the fabric and pushed it down to his thighs. “Rodion,” I said, deciding conversation was safer territory for at least one of us, “he looks like he’s carrying something. Between you and Roman, did one of you do something to him?”
“Why? Are you concerned about my other brother now?”
“Do you ever answer a question the way it’s asked?” I shot back.
“I hurt him,” he declared.
I released the waistband, and his trousers dropped the rest of the way on their own. He stood there in nothing but his underwear, which hid absolutely nothing important. I lifted my eyes before he caught me staring too long.
“You know,” I said, and the smile spreading across my face turned wicked because an idea had just formed.
My fingers drifted over his stomach and slid lower, taking my time.
“I just want to know you better. Not only your body.” My hand slipped beneath the waistband and brushed against his cock lightly, deliberately enough to feel his reaction. “Is knowing you such a terrible thing?”
He stayed perfectly still. That alone told me he was allowing this. “What do you want to know?” His voice dropped lower and rougher.
“How did you hurt him?” A breath left him when I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked once. His hand lifted toward my hip, but I caught his wrist with my free hand and pushed it away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Inna.”
“I’m doing the touching. You talk.” I tightened my grip just enough to watch his eyes close for one unguarded second. He didn’t try reaching for me again. “You still haven’t answered.”
His head lowered toward mine, forehead almost touching mine, and I leaned back before he could settle there. He stopped himself, breathing slower now, heavier too. His body argued against the conversation, even while I kept insisting on it.
“Our father wanted me to take over the family business,” he said. His hand drifted toward me again, and I pushed it away before it reached me. “He hated Rodion.”
“So that’s where it started.” I slowed my hand, and his eyes dropped to it before returning to my face. “Why? Rodion looks like someone who could run the world and enjoy it.”
His throat moved when he swallowed. “He was dying of kidney disease.” The curse left him rough. “Fuck, Inna.”
His hand moved again.
“Don’t,” I warned him, stepping back until his hand hit the wall behind me instead. I wrapped my hand around him again, firmer this time, feeling him grow heavier against my palm. “Did you try taking it from him? Did you go against Rodion?”
“No.”
“Then why does he hate you? Why does he hate Roman?”
His hand found my hip before I stopped him this time. He pushed me back against the wall, his body closing the last bit of space between us.
I pulled my hand away from him and flattened my palm against his chest. “If you won’t talk, then you aren’t touching me.”
“Inna.” He reached for me again when I tried slipping sideways.
“You won’t force me, will you?” I held his gaze and let him see I understood exactly what I was doing.
His hands dropped. “What do you want?”
“Exactly what I said.”
He exhaled heavily. “Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“Yes.” He sounded like he despised this conversation and wanted it at the same time.
My hand moved back over his underwear, tracing him. “Why does Rodion hate you?”
His eyes closed briefly. “Trust issues.”
I slid my hand inside his underwear, and a low sound left his throat. I already knew there was history there before he confirmed it. Nobody carried that level of cold without something underneath it.
“Can we have dinner with them tomorrow?” My hand kept its slow pace, stroking him while I looked up at him. “I know it’s complicated, but we’re planning Grandma’s birthday surprise.” I tilted my head slightly. “Dmitri.”
“I’ll arrange it.” He leaned toward my mouth, aiming for a kiss. I turned my head away, and he cursed under his breath. “Inna.” His eyes dropped to my lips, something dark and heated moving behind them. “Kiss me.”
“We aren’t kissing today.”
His hand rose to the back of my head, fingers sliding into my hair as he held me in place and tried again for my mouth. I kept my lips closed, refusing to give him what he wanted.
“Fuck.” His voice roughened. His other hand moved between my thighs, and I pressed my legs together immediately.
I pulled my hand away from him and stepped sideways. “We’re done here.”
“Like hell we are.” He blocked my path instantly.
“Dmitri, stop.” I pushed against his chest.
“I can’t.”
“Don’t force me,” I said. His forehead dropped against mine, his breath warm against my face. The veins near his temples stood out now. “Let me go.”
“Let me touch you.” His voice dropped lower, stripped of its usual control. “Please, baby.”
My stomach turned over.
He begged.
This man actually said please, and the way he called me, fuck it. I moved first, pulling his mouth into mine, and he kissed me back with a desperation that burned through whatever restraint remained between us. His hands settled on my waist as if he needed contact so badly.
“Take me to bed,” I breathed against his lips.
He lifted me without a word, my legs wrapping around his waist. After that, I stopped tracking how we reached the bed. My back hit the mattress, and the kiss deepened, his body covering mine with familiar heat.
I was on pills now, a decision I made the day he appeared at that pharmacy looking wrecked with worry over me. I made that choice because somewhere beneath all my careful logic, I already knew this would happen again. Probably enough times to become a problem.
A gasp escaped me when he thrust inside me, the kiss breaking apart. I looked down between us and watched him move slowly at first, every stroke giving me time to feel all of it.
When I looked back up, his eyes were already on me.
We held each other’s gaze while his pace deepened. My head pressed harder into the mattress, helpless sounds leaving me before I could stop them.
His hand slid beneath my head, guiding my forehead against his. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Dmitri.”
“Inna,” he murmured my name, and I kept my eyes on him while he moved harder, each thrust carrying enough force to pull broken sounds from my throat. My body took every impact, heat building deep inside me in slow, violent waves.
“Touch yourself.”
My hand slipped between us, fingers finding the sensitive ache there. I moved against my clit carefully at first, then the combined sensation crashed through me so hard my breath caught. A cry escaped me, and my eyes closed again.
“Look at me.”
His voice cut through everything else, and I obeyed instantly. I moved my fingers faster while he slammed into me with a relentless rhythm.
“That’s how you look at your husband while he fucks you,” he stated.
God.
Fine.
I loved this.
Stars gathered at the edges of my vision while my body shook beneath him, pleasure unraveling through me faster than I could control. At some point, I stopped trying to manage any of it and just let him take me apart.