56. Wynter
Wynter
B as brought me back to my room after spending an hour outside.
After the revelation about Priest, we no longer talked. I didn’t dare to tell him what I knew. I couldn’t trust him. Though it made me wonder why he trusted me with his information. He hadn’t even shared it with Uncle.
God, what a mess!
I couldn’t call Mom to ask about it. Did she know? I must have misunderstood Mom when she said she lost the baby. I took it that the baby died.
With a heavy sigh, I came to a realization. I was on my own here, until the wedding. Bas said my family would be there, along with their guests. Whoever those were.
I walked back on the balcony and sat down. It became my go to place when I was bound to this bedroom. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the wall and listened to the wind rustling through the desert. Unlike the city, it felt calming and soothing. Ironic considering how I found myself here.
Bas asked why I left. Why? He’d know. He didn’t really expect me to remain, not after that cruel performance by his father. Not after finding out that it was his father who shot my mother.
Last time, I put my faith in him. I trusted him blindly. I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake again. I couldn’t afford to repeat the same mistake again. It could destroy me. Mom. Uncle Liam. My friends.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat like this when Basilio stepped out onto the balcony and my eyes flitted his way. I hadn’t even heard him come in. While I changed into shorts and a tank top, he still wore his three-piece-suit.
He crouched before me and reached for my chin then nudged it up gently until our gazes met. His dark eyes watched me, searching my face.
I couldn’t read his emotions, his gaze dark, yet warm. Something about him felt so right . So warm . So mine . But without trust, it was all for naught. With the history between our families, it was doomed from the start.
And still, I didn’t push him away.
The air around us stilled, all noise drowned out by the beats of my heart. His rough palms cupped my face, and he brushed his mouth over the tip of my nose.
We’ll destroy each other. The words remained locked behind my lips.
This man haunted my every thought for the past nine months. They say time heals all wounds, but mine just festered. The pain of his loss became permanent in my soul. The healing didn’t start until I saw him again.
“I won’t leave,” I whispered a promise I knew he wouldn’t believe.
He leaned in and kissed my throat, trailing a line down my throat. I sighed and tilted my head, giving him my submission.
“Liar,” he rasped. I expected it, but my heart still ached.
The memories of promises I made him nine months ago would forever work against me. Despite the electricity that burned between us, stealing all the oxygen in the room.
His hand lowered down to take my right wrist into his. He pulled back as his eyes took in the necklace he gifted me turned into a makeshift bracelet. I never took it off. Not even when I skated. I always wanted him with me, if even in such a small token.
He brushed his thumb over it. “Did you wear this with him ?”
I knew he meant Sasha. Everybody always meant Sasha.
My lungs tightened and my heart gave a painful thud. Something about his assumption pierced sharply through my chest. I narrowed my eyes on him. Bitterness choked my lungs, taking my breath away.
“Go to fucking hell,” I hissed. Fuck him for thinking I’d move on without a second thought. Fuck him for doing it so easily and assuming I did the same.
His gaze narrowed. “I’ve been there, principessa.” A flicker of emotion in his eyes twisted my stomach. “I almost lost my goddamn mind when you disappeared. I searched everywhere for you.”
He did?
“Ice princess,” he muttered, regarding me with the darkness that pulled me deeper and deeper into the abyss.
“Don’t call me that,” I rasped, attempting half-heartedly to jerk my face out of his grip.
“How could you leave without a word?” He pressed his forehead against mine and my heart ached. It ached so fucking bad, I thought I’d die. “What happened? Why did you leave?”
A tear ran down my cheek and I wiped it away. I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t trust him. And yet, despair scratched at my chest, my instincts screamed to take him. Make him mine. Give him everything and demand everything.
“For weeks, I thought you were dead. Then I learned who you were.” His bitter laugh was quiet. “Were you playing me the entire time? Collecting information for your uncle.”
I stiffened, unsure whether he referred to my Irish heritage or the Russian one.
“Your father didn’t tell you?” I breathed, a sliver of uncertainty snaking through my veins.
A dark chuckle vibrated between us. “Tell me what, principessa?” A few seconds passed and I held my breath.
I didn’t know why. I should cease this opportunity and lay it all out for him.
But what if he took his father’s side? What if he didn’t believe me?
“That my principessa was a liar and a thief?”
His accusation hit home. I didn’t exactly lie to him, but I didn’t tell him the truth either.
“I may be a liar, but so are you, Basilio.”
He didn’t tell me about my Russian heritage. He didn’t tell me he wanted my connections to the Pakhan.
His pause was the only tell of his surprise, shortly replaced by a slow smile. “I do love your fire, principessa. And I’m always up for a challenge.” I glared at him and his sardonic chuckle followed. “I should have known with the way you carried yourself,” he murmured cryptically.
“You should have let me go home with my family,” I muttered, tearing my gaze away from him, scared I’d drown in him.
Every time I’d even begin to hate him, the image of the man I met, dancing with me under the stars with New York City lights in the distance flashed in my mind.
Or the man on his haunches as he slipped my shoe on.
That felt raw, magical and so goddamn real.
“Never,” he growled, low and almost feral.
“I’m your family now. You’re mine.” When I didn’t say anything, his hand wrapped around my neck and his fingers squeezed.
Not hard, but just gently enough to warn.
“If you leave me again, I’ll hunt down every single member of your family and friends you have.
I’ll torture them until they tell me where you are. I own you now.”
I am yours already. But I wasn’t ready to admit it.
“You can’t own a human being,” I said in a quiet voice, tilting my chin up and meeting his gaze as I leaned my neck into his grip.
“And if I leave, you’ll never find me. None of you will.
” I let the words sink before I continued.
“But I said I’ll stay. So I’ll stay, unless you give me a compelling reason to leave. ”
My words slashed the air in the room, the battle of wills vibrating between us. Hot and heavy.
His grip tightened just a bit more and adrenaline rushed through my body.
There were twisted, broken parts of me that enjoyed his dominance.
He didn’t scare me, not physically. The part I feared was him breaking my heart irrevocably and leaving me to live the rest of my life like a shell of a person.
Like my mother.
“I swear to God, Wynter. If you leave me again, you’ll have death on your hands. I’ll kill every single person you care about. I’ll burn this entire world down.”
His eyes hardened, the shadows inside them rising to the surface. “Give me your word you’ll never leave,” he demanded.
“Basilio, I already told you, I’ll stay.” I held his gaze. I wouldn’t risk admitting to him that life without him scared me more than the darkness he harbored or any threats he dished out. But I’d give him this vow. “Despite the fact you’re my family’s enemy, I’ll stay.”
“If only I could believe your promises,” he rasped.
“I’d also love to believe that you wouldn’t hurt me,” I retorted. “Or my family.”
He gripped the back of my neck and slammed his lips against mine. Anger brimmed inside me and I tasted that same anger on his lips.
And still, his kiss felt so damn good.
I opened my mouth to protest and he took advantage and thrust his tongue inside. The pent up need I had felt since the moment our eyes connected that winter day, a year ago, had erupted. I was lost to him, to his scent, to his heat.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned against my mouth.
My hands wrapped around his neck, fisting his hair, pulling him closer. I needed his body against mine.
I moaned into his mouth and he groaned, then slid his hands down my neck, over my back and to the back of my thighs.
Without any effort, he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him, relishing in how well our bodies fit together. Like perfect puzzle pieces. His fingers squeezed the flesh of my thighs, possessive, and his palm slid under my shorts to my ass as he walked us back into the room.
With a handful of my ass in his palms, he sat on the bed and I straddled his thighs. Our mouths drifted apart so he could pull the tank top over my head. The moment it was off, our mouths collided again. My shorts followed with a loud shredding sound.
It was raw lust and desire. Need for release. Yet for me, it was so much more. This hunger for him would be my undoing.
He gripped my hips, palms sliding up. Higher and higher. My sweet spot between my legs ached and I knew he was the only man that could ease that pain. His fingers brushed my inner thighs, as he bit my bottom lip with a gentle tug. Like he wanted to teach me a lesson.
He caressed the curves of my ass, while his lips traveled down my throat to the tops of my breasts. He nipped the soft skin and my head fell back.
“Bas,” I breathed his name with a moan. I felt him everywhere, each nerve within me quivering with delight.
“Mine,” he said roughly, while he caressed the bare curves of my ass. God help me, I was his. I had always been his and no amount of denial would ever change that.