Chapter 21 Alyona #2
His thumb rubs across my bottom lip and I open my mouth, letting him press his thumb against my tongue.
The salty taste of his skin makes me eager for more.
With my hands on his thighs, I feel the pull at the crotch of his pants as his dick hardens.
My fingertips ghost over it, and Kaz’s hips jerk lightly.
“Blyat’, darling. You’re going to drive me to madness.”
The gruff words only act as encouragement, and I lean forward on my knees, fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. They fall away easier than I expected. Kazimir laughs huskily as I hurry to pull them down, but am surprised when his cock springs free.
“No boxers?” I ask, eyes flitting up as my cheeks heat with delight. He shakes his head with a small smile.
Wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft, I take a second to marvel at him.
He’s thick. I already knew that, my body already knows that, but it’s different now that I can focus without the haze of desire clouding things.
I’m literally face to face with his cock.
It’s impossible to ignore the way it throbs in my tight grip, or how the tip is turning darker, glistening with precum.
Kazimir groans again, fingertips massaging my scalp. But he doesn’t force me closer, which surprises me.
A frisson of mischievousness sings through me. Letting go of his cock, I push against his hips and shuffle forward on my knees until his back thuds against the wall. He lets out a huff of surprise, looking down at me. “What—?”
Before he can say anything else, I grip him again and drag my tongue in a long, slow line up from the base of his dick. His body literally shakes, sending a thrill of excitement through me. I can feel my pussy getting wet.
This is what it’s like to be in control.
This is what he feels every. Single. Day.
The Bratva boss of Savannah.
No wonder he can fuck me to the point of oblivion.
I’m enthusiastic now. Remembering each time he’s had me, each time he’s made me come. I wrap my lips around him and slowly drag them up and down. The rhythm is steady, paced, teasing and tight where my fingers wrap around his base.
Using my other hand to balance myself, I press against his inner thigh and catch the sharp inhale he breathes in.
Interesting.
Pausing with the head of his cock pressed to my tongue, I let the fingertips of my free hand brush against his balls.
The furrowed skin tightens under my touch, and I hum with happiness.
I practically swallow his length to the base as I sink down appreciatively.
I gag reflexively, and Kaz tries to pull my head back, but I make a sound of resistance and work him slowly, deeply, until I can feel him pulsing erratically at the back of my throat.
Just the thought of his slick cum in my mouth is enough to make me whimper. “Fuck, Aly, careful. I can’t—”
His hips tilt forward with a shallow thrust, and I desperately work him faster. He’s so hard in my grip that I’m surprised he hasn’t come already. The vein at the base is swelling and hot under my fingers.
I whine again, shifting forward, wanting more of him, wanting all of him, wanting to feel him come undone the way I do with him.
It happens the way everything happens with Kazimir Baranov. Almost violently, explosively, and with barely an edge of control.
He holds me steady and grunts, calling out my name as his hips rock forward, fucking my mouth.
The wet heat comes in thick ropes of cum that slide down my throat.
My nails bite into the hard muscles of his thighs.
With watering eyes, I tilt my chin just enough to watch his face.
His rugged beard twists into a grimace as he stares down at me with dark eyes.
“Good girl,” he whispers, slowing his pace, but not stopping. He takes his dick in his hand and jerks himself slowly. With his other hand he grips my jaw, rubbing smears of cum over my lips. He tastes like salt and something muskier, a little sweet.
Afterward, Kaz lazily pulls his pants back on and picks me up, ignoring the gasp of surprise that escapes me.
He carries me to the bed and pulls me half-on top of him.
His arm is wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
I lie with my head on his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos with lazy fingers.
He’s covered in them. They’re like some kind of grid map; I haven’t gotten a good look at them until now.
In the steam of the shower they were unclear.
Every other encounter has happened in the dark, or facing away from one another.
This is the first time he’s truly let me see him.
And had time to think about what we’ve done, and the consequences. Kaz’s heart beats strong beneath my palm, steady and real.
“I didn’t know how to feel about what you did for Devin,” I say quietly, long after the adrenaline has turned into exhaustion.
His body tenses almost imperceptibly. “And now?”
“I was angry,” I admit. “Scared. It felt like you were taking control away from her, like you were deciding how her problems should be handled.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“But I see it now,” I continue. “You didn’t take anything from her. You gave her a way out. You didn’t make her smaller. You gave her room, and let her decide, but I couldn’t see it then. If she’d asked you to stop, you would have, wouldn’t you?”
He exhales slowly. “I don’t always do things just one way. I only know how to get them done.”
“I know,” I say, a small smile curving my mouth. “But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong. I thought that once…”
Years ago. When I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to be connected to anything that had to do with my father, Kazimir Baranov, or the empire notorious for death and destruction.
He turns his head slightly so he can look down at me, his gaze searching my face. “You understand that doesn’t make me a good man.”
“I didn’t say it did,” I reply softly. I’m aware that Kazimir has more than just skeletons, he’s likely got hundreds of bodies in his past.
For a moment, something vulnerable flickers in his eyes, something unguarded. I take a breath, gathering my courage.
“And the Lennox,” I add. “That mattered more than I can explain. I didn’t feel like I was a favor today. I felt capable; wanted. I felt like I belonged there.”
“You do,” he says without hesitation. “I’m sure the manager wouldn’t have agreed if you’d been lacking. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would bend to me.”
He sounds bemused, but also certain. I frown, but I get what he’s saying. Brook might be made of steel in some capacity, but she’s kind. It’s something I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around; two traits existing together.
The certainty in his voice settles something deep inside me. That simple you do is how I should feel about myself, but I don’t. So how can this man, who seems like he’s made of strength and ruthlessness, see that in me? How can he look at me and see potential where I see only flaws?
We lie in silence for a while. I’m acutely aware of my body and how at ease he makes me feel when I’m next to him. I’m not trying to suck in my belly, hold my thick legs a certain way, or take up less space. I just…am.
“I used to think power meant owning something,” Kaz says eventually. “Controlling it. Making sure it couldn’t leave. Now, I’m learning it might mean building something strong enough that it doesn’t want to.”
I shift, lifting myself up slightly so I can look at him, my confidence surprising me. “I’m not yours because you keep me here,” I say. “I’m here because I choose to be.”
His hand slides to my waist, firm, but not possessive. “I know.”
I don’t realize how far I’ve fallen until I catch myself smiling at him. The thought of leaving this room feels wrong, not necessary. I know who he is and what he’s capable of. I know there is blood on his hands and darkness threaded through his kindness.
I can’t find it in me to resent him.
I settle back comfortably, and unguarded. My body relaxes in a way it hasn’t…ever. Whatever this is, it’s changing me. Making me bolder. Making me believe, just a little, that I deserve the space I take up.