Chapter 68
Chapter sixty-eight
Alisa
Dmitri ripped three soul snatching orgasms out of me after that.
He seemed to like the taste of ‘I love you,’ on his tongue. Whenever I’d rocket off the cliff of an orgasm, he’d growl those words into my skin, sending me soaring even higher.
After my inner walls stopped pulsing, he opened the car door and offered me a hand.
I stared at him blankly.
“Dinner time, kitten,” he said, inclining his head to the restaurant behind us.
“I’m surprised you’re still hungry,” I muttered, thinking back to how he’d devoured my pussy until I’d screamed.
Dmitri’s lips curved into a smirk.
“Starving. In fact, I’m tempted to get us a private dining room, and have you lie completely naked on the white tablecloth.”
I blushed, a little shocked I could react after all the things he’d just done to me. His eyes gleamed at my reaction.
“The blindfolded waiters can set the plates around your perfect body, and I’ll alternate between sampling the dishes and devouring my favorite entrée. By the time I’m finished, the tablecloth will be utterly ruined by your juices, and you’ll be as red as a rare piece of steak.”
Fuck.
Warmth radiated towards my core, but my legs still shook from the aftershocks of that last orgasm. I wasn’t sure if I could even walk straight let alone take more.
Dmitri grasped my hand and pulled me up to a standing position. His eyes flickered over my trembling body.
“Looks like I’ll have to save that for our next visit here and settle for just food.”
I leaned against him and felt his cock hardening against me. Guilt simmered through me that I was so completely satisfied when he wanted more.
“Do you mind waiting?”
His fingers wrapped around my nape, and he pressed his lips against my ear. “Not at all, my love.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent a shudder of desire through me. I don’t think I’d ever stop reacting to those words.
Dmitri chuckled at my body’s response, but his eyes held a silent promise of what he'd do to me later. As he guided me into the opulent restaurant, I smiled so wide that my jaw almost ached.
I really was the luckiest girl in the world.
At least I thought that was the case… until my father’s angry red eyes met my own.
A freezing bucket of fear destroyed all the warm feelings fluttering through my body.
“You okay?” Dmitri asked, his hand brushing down the goosebumps on my arm.
I couldn’t even form words as I maintained eye contact with my father across the restaurant. Bottomless dread was strangling every thought in my head and suffocating my nervous system.
With a slight lurch, my father stood up from his booth. It was like I was ten years old again, and screaming at myself for not walking noiselessly through the house when my father was in one of his moods.
“Alisa,” Dmitri said, and this time I wrenched my eyes away from my father.
More than anything I wanted to tell him. To let him shoulder that anxiety and transform it into peace. But when I met my mother’s gaze I stopped myself.
From the vicious way Dmitri had sent Roman into a coma, I knew what would happen the moment he found out the truth.
With every fiber of my being, I wanted my father to pay for the way he’d treated my family over the years. But my father had let me know the contingencies he had in place if I retaliated against him.
Contingencies that included the slow death of my mother.
I swallowed unsteadily.
My father swept into my field of view. His presence stole all the air from my lungs.
“You didn’t answer my call, Alisa,” my father slurred.
Dmitri didn’t even bother to acknowledge my father, his concerned eyes were focused only on me.
I forced my voice to remain steady despite the hammering of my heart.
“I must’ve missed it. I’ve been so busy with the competition,” I said. I felt sweat building on my skin. “I promise I’ll give you a call later.”
Needing to get away, I started towards the hostess stand. Before I could move a foot, my father grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise. I tried not to react as his fingers dug deep into my skin.
“Don’t fucking touch her.” Dmitri’s voice was a growl.
He wrenched my father’s hand off me, and the force of it left my father stumbling into a metal barstool. Before my father could regain his footing, Dmitri angled his rigid body in front of my own.
Relief spiraled through me as his huge form eclipsed my vision.
“She’s my daughter, don’t tell me what to do.”
Alarm bells rang in my head when I recognized the tone of his voice. My father was minutes away from violence, and if he directed it at myself or Dmitri, I had a feeling he wouldn’t live much longer.
My father’s email detailing exactly how my mother would die if something happened to him played in my mind like a death march.
“Dad,” I said, the word feeling like sandpaper in my mouth. “Can we talk in private?”
I needed to deescalate this.
“Fine,” my father said. His shoulders relaxed, and hope bloomed in my chest. I knew that tell.
I could handle this. I’d calmed him down before. Not every angry night with my father had ended in violence, and I’d make sure this one didn’t.
“No,” Dmitri said, his lethal eyes pinned on my father.
My father was too drunk to notice how close to death he was dangling. It was my turn to yank him away from the edge even though I wanted to push him off myself.
“It’s okay,” I said to Dmitri, my voice pleading.
Sour breath wafted from my father as he waited for Dmitri to respond. That was a good sign, when he was patient I could usually salvage his mood.
I took a deep breath. I could do this.
Dmitri’s eyebrows furrowed together as he studied me.
“Five minutes,” he said, his voice final.
I ushered my father into a small white room.
The moment the door closed, I realized my estimates had been wrong. I knew that exact pinch of his mouth.
It was only because of Dmitri’s training that I was able to dodge his first punch.
“Ignoring your own father?” he snarled. “I never should've had you. You’re such a fucking bitch.”
The next time, his fist connected with my ribs.
I stumbled backwards, pain lancing through my skin.
“Stop,” I gasped, even though that word had never stopped him before.
He backhanded me, and this time I couldn’t keep my balance. I crashed against a wooden table and slammed onto the ground.
Exhaustion replaced the pain as I stared up at him from the floor. I'd spent my entire life being strong as he’d pummeled me. Always covering up the bruises and ignoring the pang when both my parents refused to acknowledge what had happened.
My head rolled against the cold floor as I looked into the hate-filled eyes of my father.
Weariness stabbed deep into my bones as I imagined continuing to pretend that everything was alright. Lying to everyone that I was fine when I was the furthest thing from it.
Tears splashed down my throbbing cheeks as I thought back to all the nights that I’d wondered if this would be the night he killed me.
After my brother’s death, I’d tried to protect my mother just like he had…
But I couldn’t shoulder this alone anymore. It was time for me to stop trying to handle everything on my own, and lean on the only person in my life who I trusted with my entire soul.
I sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the ache in my lungs, and yelled, “Dmitri help me.”