13. Tatiana #2
Adrian was probably still busy roughing the twins up, but I hoped he’d see the message.
Soon.
I kept pacing around, impatient to get our evening going.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind me and I stilled.
I stared at the only closed part of the gazebo, my heart thundering wildly.
My nipples tightened. My thighs clenched and arousal trickled down my inner thighs.
God, he hadn’t even touched me, and I was drenched.
A hand came over my bare shoulder and I tried to turn around when his other hand wrapped around my waist and pushed me towards the wall.
“I’ll make you moan. Follow my rules.”
A shudder erupted beneath my skin, warm from his touch. His hard body pressed against my back and his hot breath against my ear.
“Do you consent?” His voice was accented, dark and heavy. I never heard Adrian’s Russian so prominent.
“Yes.” Anyone in their right mind would consent to such a sensual, seductive voice. He was already binding my hands with something soft.
His scent enveloped me. He must have changed his cologne, because his scent of leather was replaced with the unique, probably custom-made cologne. It smelled of citrus mingled with spice and sandalwood.
It was like there was an aphrodisiac in it. It kicked up my desire several notches, soaking my panties with my arousal. His hand on my waist gripped the skirt of my dress and yanked it up. Goosebumps broke over my skin as the cool air touched my flesh. My thong left little to the imagination.
His groan vibrated against my back and as his fingers cupped my ass and squeezed it hard. His touch was dominant and confident. It felt so good.
I felt his lips against the curve of my neck, marking me. I turned my head, wanting to see his face but he wrapped a hand around my throat and pressed his chest against my back. His scent washed over me and his length pressed against my back. If that was any indication of his length, he was big.
My breaths came out in small pants. Moans and whimpers. Releasing my throat, his fingers gripped my hair and forced me to bend over a few inches, then his foot nudged mine.
“Open for me, moya luna.”
He barely finished the sentence and I spread my legs for him. Eagerly.
“Please,” I moaned.
He let go of my hair and his hand slid between my thighs. “So soaked,” he grunted, sending a shudder down my back.
In one move, he shredded my thong off my hips and then traced his finger over my pussy drenched with my slickness. When his fingers brushed over my clit, a violent shudder tore through me.
“Ahhhh.” We barely got started and I was ready to fall apart. His expert touch kept teasing me with slow circles over my clit before plunging a thick finger inside me. “Please. More,” I breathed with a desperate edge to my voice.
“You want me inside you?” he demanded to know with a growl.
“Yes,” I moaned. “I need you inside me. Please.”
His growl of satisfaction vibrated against my earlobe as he continued finger-fucking me, teasing my clit while his finger thrust in and out of me. The imminent orgasm only stoked the fire inside me.
He removed his hand as my body still shuddered but only for a second. The crinkle of foil reached my ears as he tore open a condom. My skirt still bunched around my waist, he poised the tip of his cock at my hot entrance. In a single thrust, he plunged forward and buried himself deep inside me.
A scream tore through me. My virginity gone.
I sucked in a ragged breath as he stretched me, pain overtaking my pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
“Don’t you fucking dare stop,” I hissed. I could feel his surprise in the way he tensed. “Make it good.”
“Your wish is my command,” he rasped.
Slowly he pulled out, only to plunge inside again.
Initially he moved slowly, letting me adjust to his size.
My insides clenched all around his shaft, greedily taking him in.
I wanted more of him. I wanted his unleashed desire.
With each thrust, my moans turned louder.
He released my waist and brought his hand over my mouth.
He fucked me hard and fast. Each thrust allowed him deeper inside me.
A scream bubbled on my lips and I muffled it by biting into his hand, my teeth digging into his palm.
His teeth scraped the soft skin on my neck, then sucked to ease the sting.
Pain and pleasure mixed, blurring the lines and I no longer knew where one ended and the other started.
The orgasm shattered through me like an avalanche, but he didn’t stop fucking me.
He kept thrusting through my orgasm, my cries turning into screams as he fucked me harder and deeper.
My inner muscles clamped around his thick cock and he shuddered with a grunt, finding his own release. This was fucking incredible. Fuck virginity and fuck everything. I wanted to marry this man and have sex like this for the rest of my life.
“Mine,” he rasped. “You’ll always be mine.”
Simple words. Simple claim. Simple truth.
I always wanted to be his. I leaned against the wall of the gazebo, my legs slightly unstable as he pulled out of me. It took me a few minutes to put myself back together, but when I turned around, he was gone.
“Tatiana, are you okay?” Isla’s voice pulled me away as the memory danced before me and something nudged the back of my mind. A thought I couldn’t quite grasp. “Tatiana?”
Isla shook my hand lightly, squeezing my fingers.
I blinked, catching her worried gaze. I forced a smile to my lips, not wanting to worry her.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured her. “I’m sorry. I just remembered something, and it caught me by surprise.”
Her gaze studied me, and suddenly, I knew this girl saw and knew more than her big brother gave her credit for. The question was how much more.
We took the last turn and arrived at the end of the hallway and Isla pressed a button. “Elevator?” I asked incredulously.
She rolled her eyes. “I know. Like he didn’t have enough space to make a parking lot. He insisted on the parking garage.”
What Illias wants; Illias gets. Apparently.
The elevator door opened and we both stepped into it. She pressed another button and swiftly we were taken two floors below. The doors opened, and the two of us stepped out. I shook my head. All the men in the underworld had one common trait.
They all loved their stupid cars.
Rows and rows of parked cars. Maserati. Range Rovers. Land Rover Defenders. Mercedes G-Benz. Bugatti.
“Does he realize snow and sports cars don’t go together?” I muttered.
“He has one of these on every continent,” Isla grumbled. Apparently she wasn’t a fan either. She led me to the Land Rover. “This one has bulletproof windows,” she remarked.
“Well, I guess we’ll be safe getting pastries,” I remarked dryly.
Just as we reached the vehicle and my hand came to rest on the handle, a voice startled both of us.
“Where are you going?”
The voice had both of us turning around. Two guards were leaning against the wall on the far side of the wall. My eyes shifted around, wondering where they came from.
“That’s where the elevator is that leads to the other side of the house,” Isla remarked quietly. “We’re going to pick up something and we’ll be right back,” she shouted to the guards.
Two of the guards shifted off the wall and strode over to us. I studied them, surprised to see they looked to be of Asian descent. Maybe Mongolian. I couldn’t quite distinguish. Somehow I found it surprising. So far, I’d only seen Russian men surrounding Illias.
“Boss said to wait for him,” one of them remarked. A cigarette dangled from his mouth and moved as he spoke. “Nobody is to go anywhere without him.”
I watched the cigarette move up and down, his eyes traveling over me. Then he did the same with Isla. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing my way while the guard kept leering at her. I didn’t like it.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I took Isla’s hand and shoved her behind me. “We are not nobody. We don’t need your boss to dictate what we do,” I told him coldly. Then because I couldn’t resist, I added, “Don’t forget we are your boss’ boss. And you better watch yourself, or you’ll lose your eyeballs.”
He sneered, then advanced further, each step bringing him closer to us. It would seem the boss’ boss card didn’t seem to impress him.
“Who is this fucker?” I hissed quietly.
“I’ve never seen him before,” Isla muttered under her breath. “Usually they are never so rude.”
Blocking the view of Isla with my body, I kept my eyes on him. I could take him. He was lean, as tall as I was. High cheekbones. A scar across his left cheek. Hair as dark as midnight. But his eyes kept throwing me off. They were blue.
With each step he neared us, I sensed something was off about him.
“Let’s get you to the boss,” he ordered, grabbing my elbow. His fingers dug into my skin to the point of pain. The expression on his face was murderous. Like he blamed me for something, and I didn’t even know what.
“You can’t touch her,” Isla scolded him, trying to maneuver herself around me and get in front of me. I blocked her way. The other guard muttered something low, but I couldn’t understand the language. It almost sounded like… Japanese? No, it couldn’t be.
“Move it,” the fucker growled, shoving me. I attempted to shove him back. Unsuccessfully. God, he might be thin but he was strong. All muscles. His looks were definitely deceiving.
“Let go,” I hissed, attempting to jerk my arm out of his grip.
“Or what?” he scoffed.
I was just about to open my mouth when a voice lashed through the air.
“Take your hands off my wife.” Harshness and the cold tenor in Illias’ voice sent a shiver down my spine. Goosebumps rose on my skin. My eyes flickered over him, but he kept his gaze locked on the two guards. “If I have to say it again, your death will be very long and painful.”
The two guards shared a look and I acted on instinct. One reached for Isla, the other already had his hands on me. I pushed Isla and she stumbled out of the way, her eyes widening in horror that I’d do something like that. The guard that went after her only caught empty air.
But it gave Illias enough time to act. Bang.
The next thing happened so fast but my brain processed it in slow motion.
Isla’s scream filled the underground garage.
The guard fell on the ground with a grunt, blood pooling around him.
He was wounded, not dead. The other guard pulled me closer to him while I fought him, his chest flat at my back and his gun at my temple.
More guards came swarming in. Illias’ gun was trained on the man holding me hostage. He took a step forward, my captor took one back.
“You’re not getting out of this alive.” Illias words were colder than the temperatures outside. My heart beat hard against my ribs, threatening to crack them. My hands covered my lower belly instinctively worried for the baby that had barely reached a few months of life inside me.
My husband didn’t look at me. His dark eyes were trained on the man behind me. His face was a brutal, cold mask that I had never seen before. This was the Pakhan that men feared. This was who Vasili warned me against, but I had never seen this side of him.
Not until now.
I stood stiff, waiting for a sign. Any sign. There was no chance in hell that I wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire if Illias and the idiot behind me started to shoot.
So I took matters into my own hands.
First I said a prayer, even though I wasn’t particularly religious.
It didn’t hurt to get a little extra help from up above.
Sasha had taught me self-defense since I was a little girl.
Of course, the last time I used it against the Yakuza guy in the alley, it didn’t work out that great.
But I just needed a little window, and Illias would take care of the rest.
Locking gazes with my husband, I tried to convey a wordless message.
I blinked, swallowing the lump in my throat with a barely noticeable nod.
I relaxed my body, keeping my breathing even.
I needed to hit his ribs with enough force and his grip on me would loosen enough for me to get away from him. A deep breath. Exhale.
With all my strength, I elbowed him into the side of his ribs, then kneeled down on the ground, protecting my stomach with my knees and covering my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
Bang. Bang.
Two shots. Warm liquid splattered over my face. I kept my eyes shut, stiff in my position. Scared to move.
“Moya luna.” That deep, familiar voice was close. A pair of warm hands on my face. “Open your eyes.”
I did, the world seemed red, so I blinked. A drop of blood dripped off my lashes and trickled down my cheek. Suddenly I wondered if our story maybe didn’t start with blood. The question was whether it would end with it too.
He held my face between his palms, worry etched on his beautiful face made of granite. I was unsure which side of him was true anymore. The one who made my body fall apart at night. The one who saved me - twice now. The one who stared the enemy in the eye. Or the one who used me for leverage?
“Are you okay?” he asked. “How are you feeling?’
“Fine,” I muttered, pulling away from him and rising to my feet. I couldn’t look at him. Not yet. Not after hearing those words between him and Marchetti. Not after what had just happened. He brought me to Russia to keep me safe, and he had enemies in his own home.
How could he possibly protect me and our child if he couldn’t trust his guards?
As bad as it sounded, I didn’t care that he shot someone. In our world, it was kill or be killed. Isabella struggled with it. I never did. However, I struggled with being used and being manipulated.
I smoothed my dress down, blood from the dress staining my fingers. My white wool dress had blood splashed all over it. My breathing was high-pitched, but strangely my mind was calm. Or maybe that was the shock.
My eyes darted to Isla who stood five feet away with two men next to her. Her face was pale and her gaze slightly frantic.
“Maybe no outside pastries today?” I said, my voice strange to my own ears.
Isla swallowed, then nodded. Flicking a glance at the two men on the ground, I strode to my sister-in-law without another glance at my husband.
I knew what he’d do next. After all, he wasn’t that unpredictable.