Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matvei
Anissa is almost better.
She’s managed to pull herself out of bed, and I’ve allowed it.
She did such an impressive job with the task Rafail gave her that he wants to assign her another. But I tell him she needs a break because she’s been sick.
The truth is—I don’t want her working.
I miss her.
I’ve done everything I can to baby her. And while she protests and insists she can handle herself, she likes it.
I know she does.
And goddamn, I love having someone to take care of.
She praises my cooking and sighs contentedly when I rub her back. We take every bath or shower together now. I love the way she lets me massage her skin and wash her hair.
I even painted her nails. It was harder than it looked.
But it hasn’t been easy not fucking her through all of this.
I’ve banged a few off in the shower, but it does nothing to satisfy my appetite.
I want her hot, tight cunt wrapped around my cock.
Her nails clawing at my back.
Her over my knee because she’s earned a good fucking spanking with her sass.
I want her.
But I don’t want to hurt her.
Rafail gives me a laundry list of tasks, and when I finally go looking for her, she’s nowhere to be found.
“Anissa!” I yell, fearing the worst. My heartbeat thunders.
"Over here!"
I follow her voice and find her standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of shopping bags.
The glint in her eyes is wicked.
I take one look at the mess she’s made and groan. "Oh my god."
She grins. "Nah," she says, shaking her head. "He’s not gonna save you tonight."
"Woman," I growl. "Please."
"It’s been days," she purrs, stepping closer. "I’m fine now. Really. I want you."
My jaw tightens. "I don’t want to hurt you."
She tilts her head. "What if I want you to hurt me?"
I shake my head. "I won’t do it that way."
But that doesn’t mean I can’t touch her.
That doesn’t mean I can’t make her come.
I strip her slowly, deliberately, kissing the slope of her shoulder, the curve of her cheek.
With a sigh that makes my dick hard, she whispers, "I’ve missed this.”
"So have I."
I bury my face in her hair and inhale.
I remember the way I used to ache for her scent when I was stalking her.
I wanted her so fucking bad.
And now…
Now, she’s in my arms.
And she’s so much more than I ever imagined she would be.
I nuzzle the swell of her breast, flick my tongue over her nipple, and lay her on the bed. I’m dizzy with need, I want her so damn bad.
"I want you inside me," she whispers. “Please.”
I shake my head. "Not yet. I want to make sure you’re better."
She moans, arching against me, and whines when I pull away.
I smirk. "Behave yourself."
She smirks right back and spreads her legs.
Fuck.
Her pussy is glistening, her thighs slick with arousal, driving me out of my fucking mind.
"Maybe you can fuck me in the shower," she suggests, her voice low, teasing. "Maybe you’d feel better about that."
“No.”
Her lips part in protest, and she lets out a whine. “Why do I have to beg?”
I’ve had enough.
I flip her over my lap, press my palm to her lower back, and cup her ass.
She gasps.
But of course, she only squirms and spreads her legs wider, offering herself to me.
I groan, sliding my fingers through her wet heat, teasing her and circling her aching clit.
"I do owe you a spanking, don’t I?" I murmur.
A wicked little smirk. A slow, deliberate nod. "I think you do… Daddy."
Oh, I like the brat.
I like the brat a lot.
I spank her, my palm curving as it slaps across her ass perfectly.
Jesus, that feels good.
"Say it again."
"Say what, Daddy?" Her voice is all tease, all temptation. "Is that what you want? Is that why you fed me in bed and took care of me?"
I spank her again, harder this time, my handprint marking her perfect ass. "You kinky little witch."
She moans and writhes, grinding against my fingers.
"Fuck me, Daddy. Please."
"I told you. Not yet." I rub slow, teasing circles over her clit. "That doesn't mean you can't come, baby. Here. Open up for Daddy."
Jesus fuck, I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe how fucking hard it made me.
I stroke her, sliding my fingers deep inside her, and she moans, her hips rocking desperately against my hand.
Fuck a week, might as well be an eternity.
I squeeze her nipples, circling her clit as she takes all of it, her body trembling beneath me.
"I'm so turned on," she gasps. "I can't let go. I can't… I’m all tense."
I spank her again.
"Are you trying to rush me?" My voice drops, turning lethal. "Who said we're on a timeframe?"
I lean down, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the red handprint on her ass. She shivers.
I love that reaction.
She moans and rides my fingers, but I slow down, taking my time because I know what she needs.
I lay her on her back, and her eyes go wide as I wrap my hand around her throat. I flex just enough for her to gasp while I pump my fingers inside her.
Her hips lift off the bed, begging.
I press my fingertips into her neck, her pulse racing under my hand.
I stroke her clit, bend down, and bite her nipple.
With a strangled cry, she comes. Hard.
Her back arches off the bed, and I don't stop. I keep stroking, teasing, watching the way she writhes beneath me, lost in pleasure.
Jesus, she’s beautiful when she comes like this.
And I am hard as fuck.
"Oh my god," she pants out, coming back down from her high.
She reaches for my belt buckle, her hands shaking.
"I'm not going to—"
"I know, I know." She pouts. "But if I don’t get your cock in me right now… Promise me I will soon," she demands, her lower lip jutting out petulantly.
It’s adorable.
Her little pout.
Her need.
"Oh, I promise," I murmur darkly. "I’ll fucking rail you. Harder than you've ever had it before. Every. Fucking. Day."
I lean down, my lips grazing her ear.
"There won’t be another cycle, Anissa."
She stills.
"I’ll put my baby inside you."
Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she strokes my cock, her gaze darting to the side as if trying to process it.
Then she bends, licks the head, and moans.
That’s all the encouragement I need.
I brace myself over her and fuck her mouth.
She moans, swallowing me whole, sucking, licking the tip, her eyes rolling back as if I’m the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted.
"Yes," she groans around my cock. "Fuck my mouth."
I fuck her hard—until her eyes water and she cries out. But she’s into this.
She cups my balls, her head moving in rhythm, tugging me back and forth, taking me.
"You take me so fucking good, beautiful," I growl. "Such a good girl, taking my cock. That’s right, baby. That’s exactly what Daddy wants."
I fist her hair, guiding her, my cock hitting the back of her throat, and she swallows perfectly.
Jesus.
She strokes the base of my cock, licking and sucking my balls until I feel it—until I know I’m about to come.
She nods, encouraging me, eyes burning with hunger.
"You gonna take it?"
She grins around my cock. "Yes. Give it to me. I want to taste you."
That’s it.
I come so hard I see stars, spilling into her mouth, and she swallows every fucking drop.
Her tongue circles me, teasing, stroking, milking me for everything I have.
Fucking perfect.
I needed this.
I missed this.
We collapse onto the bed, the smell of sex thick in the air.
She grins up at me. "I’m game for doing that again."
I chuckle, pinching her ass.
She squeals. "That hurts! You spanked the shit out of me."
"Didn’t give you half of what you deserved," I grumble.
She tilts her head, hopeful. "Is that a rain check?"
I shake my head. "Yeah, baby. It’s a rain check."
We lie in the quiet, my fingers threading through her hair.
I cradle the back of her head, pressing her to my shoulder.
It feels right.
Too fucking right.
"You’re better," I murmur. "But we need to talk.”
She freezes, but before she can say anything, I continue.
"Listen. I talked with Polina."
She stiffens.
I nod, my throat tightening. "Remember, Polina is loyal to Rafail. She has to report anything that could be… concerning. Anything that could impact our Bratva. Potential blowback."
Her brows knit, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah. I won’t forget that."
I swallow, then go for it.
"Polina told me that the condition you have right now can be genetic." I pause, watching her face. "But that it’s likely from scar tissue."
Her expression doesn’t change, but she goes completely still.
"Anissa. Is that true?"
She’s silent for a long moment before she whispers, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I tighten my grip, my fingers pressing into her skin. I’m careful not to hurt her. “You have to.”
“Why?” Her voice is raw. “It’s in the past.”
I lift her hair, twisting gently, just enough to tilt her chin and force her to meet my eyes. Her gaze is wide. Unblinking. But she doesn’t look away. And the raw pain in her eyes makes me vow to kill whoever hurt her.
I’d do anything for her. Anything.
“Because I need to know,” I say, intentionally gentling my voice. I lean in, my lips grazing her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “If there’s someone in your past who hurt you—someone still breathing—tell me now.”
My fingers curl tighter. “Because if there is, I’ll make sure they don’t for much longer.”
I let the words sink in.
She swallows, and for the first time, I see it.
Not fear. Not horror.
Hope.
I press on. "Scar tissue comes from two things, Anissa." I pause. "Surgery or injury." I wait. “Did you have surgery?”
She exhales, then shakes her head. “No. But I won’t be the only one spilling secrets, Matvei. I’ll tell you what happened to me”—she tilts her head, studying me—“if you answer a question of mine."
I nod.
I have nothing to hide.
"I want you to tell me all about the night you had to kill your brother."
Her voice is steady, but her eyes… her eyes hold something deeper.
"I know you want to understand me," she continues, “but I need to understand you."
I wasn’t expecting that.
Wasn’t expecting that at all.
"Fine." My voice is rough. "I’ll tell you anything."
She tilts her head, considering. "I’ll even go first if you want me to," I add.