Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Milana
After a lot of convincing, and more than a few heated arguments, my brothers finally agreed. They let me go to England, but only for a few days.
Pop in, do my presentation, and pop right back out. No more than two, maybe three days at most. They made it very clear.
Now we’re seated in my brother’s private jet, heading back there. The cabin is luxurious, with soft leather seats and warm lighting.
I’m sitting next to Kirill, our thighs brushing, the energy between us completely different from the last time we were on this jet together. There’s no tension this time. No fear. Just heat. Anticipation. Something deeper.
He looks over at me, eyes dark. “What are you thinking?”
I wink at him, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “I’ve always wanted to join the mile high club.”
His eyebrows rise, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” he says, voice dropping low, “it’s a good thing I like fulfilling your fantasies.”
He leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Go to the bedroom cabin. Take off your clothes. Get on your hands and knees. Wait for me.”
The command sends a shiver down my spine. The way he says it, so authoritative, makes my body respond instantly. I stand up without a word, feeling his eyes on me the entire way as I walk to the back of the jet.
In the private cabin, I strip out of my dress, letting it pool at my feet. My bra and panties follow. Naked, I climb onto the bed, getting on my hands and knees, heart racing with anticipation.
The door opens behind me. I turn my head slightly. Kirill is standing there, eyes raking over me with raw hunger.
“What a sight you are,” he growls, stepping closer.
He steps closer, eyes raking over me. “You’re dripping wet,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
I look back at him over my shoulder, a teasing smile on my lips. “Are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to stand there talking the entire flight?”
His eyes darken. He walks up behind me and brings his hand down on my ass in a firm spank. The sharp sting makes me gasp, but the heat that follows it is delicious.
“Brat,” he growls, spanking me again, harder this time. I moan, pushing back against his hand. I didn’t know I liked this, but the way my body responds tells me I do.
He keeps spanking me, alternating cheeks until my skin is burning. Then he soothes it with his palm, rubbing the heat into my flesh. His thumb slides through my slit, moving up and down, the wet sounds filling the small cabin.
“Listen to how wet you are for me,” he says, voice thick with lust. “Such a greedy little slut.”
He pushes two fingers inside me, fucking me with them while his other hand continues to spank me lightly. I cry out, pushing back against his hand, chasing the pleasure as it builds fast and intense.
“Kirill—” I moan, voice breaking.
“Say my name again,” he demands, fingers thrusting deeper.
“Kirill—oh God—”
Just when I’m about to come, he pulls his fingers out. I look back at him, ready to kill him, but he only laughs, dark and low, as he licks his fingers.
He takes out his cock, hard and thick, and grips my waist. “I care about you,” he says, voice rough. “I need you to remember that. Because right now, it’s about to seem like I don’t.”
Before I can register his words, he slams into me with one powerful thrust. The force almost makes me collapse onto the bed, but he holds me up by my waist, keeping my ass in the air as he starts fucking me mercilessly.
I scream, the sound loud in the small cabin. I’m sure the flight crew can hear me, but I don’t care.
He fucks me hard and deep, one hand reaching around to circle my clit while the other wraps around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my head spin.
“You love this, don’t you?” he growls in my ear, breath hot against my skin. “Love being fucked like a little whore while we’re thousands of feet in the air. The crew can hear you screaming for my cock.”
I moan loudly, pushing back against him, the combination of his hand on my throat and his cock pounding into me pushing me closer to the edge.
He tightens his grip on my throat just enough to restrict my breathing for a few seconds, then loosens it as he fucks me harder.
The way he controls my air makes everything feel sharper, more intense. I love it.
When I finally come, it’s explosive. I cry out his name, my whole body shaking as pleasure rips through me. My walls clamp down around him, milking him as I come hard.
He groans, thrusting deep a few more times before he comes inside me, filling me with heat. He stays buried in me for a moment, breathing hard against my neck.
Then he pulls out slowly. I’m boneless on the bed, barely able to move. He uses his fingers to gather his cum that’s leaking down my thighs and slowly pushes it back inside me.
“None of it goes to waste,” he murmurs, fucking me gently with his fingers. I’m so sensitive that it doesn’t take long before I come again, a smaller, trembling orgasm that leaves me whimpering.
When he finally pulls his fingers out, he brings them to my mouth. I taste the mix of us and moan softly.
He leans down, whispering in my ear, “Now you’re part of the Mile High Club.”
After we touch down, we check into a high-profile but discreet hotel. The kind that only caters to a very select few. The security is tight, the staff professional and unobtrusive.
It’s meant to keep us safe, but from the moment we arrived, Kirill has been paranoid. I can see it in the way his shoulders stay tense, the way his eyes constantly scan every hallway, every corner, every person who walks by.
He double-checks doors, windows, even the layout of our suite. I don’t blame him. Not after everything that’s happened.
I nap for a couple of hours after we settle in because of the jet lag. When I wake up, it’s already evening. The city lights are starting to glow outside the windows, and I feel restless.
I’ve been dying to see my best friend, Sarah. We’ve been talking on the phone, but now that I’m actually back in Manchester, I can’t just stay cooped up in this hotel without seeing her.
I walk out to the living room of the suite. Kirill is on the couch, focused on his laptop, fingers typing quickly. I take the laptop from him gently and place it on the coffee table. He looks up at me, eyebrows raised.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I don’t answer with words. I climb onto his lap, straddling him, my hands resting on his shoulders.
“So,” I say, smiling, “I was thinking…”
He looks at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “That can’t be good.”
“Come on, you haven’t even heard what I was thinking about.”
“Okay. Go on. Tell me.”
I lean in a little closer. “How about I see my friend Sarah? There’s this club—”
“No,” he cuts in.
I go on anyway. “There's this bar-slash-club we used to go to back then. No one knows I’m around. No one will even look for me there. But I can meet her. We won’t stay long. An hour tops.”
He shakes his head immediately. “No. I can’t let you go out. It’s not safe.”
I pout, running my fingers along the back of his neck.
“Come on. We can’t stay holed up here all night.
I’m going to lose my mind. I need to go out and have some fun.
Besides, it’ll help us unwind. Don’t you want to go out?
Back in New York, we were indoors the whole time.
Now we’re in Manchester and we’re still indoors.
I haven’t even gone out since that night. Please, indulge me. Just an hour.”
I lean in and kiss him, soft and pleading, my body pressed against his. I feel him groan against my lips, his hands tightening on my waist.
“Fine,” he mutters, sounding defeated but not entirely unhappy about it. “But we’re not staying long. And you stay close to me the entire time.”
I grin, happiness bubbling up inside me. “Great! I’ll call Sarah and let her know.”
The moment we step into the club, I’m taken over by the energy.
The music pulses through the air, bass vibrating in my chest. The lights flash in rhythm with the beat, bodies moving on the dance floor, laughter and conversation filling every corner.
It feels good to be back. To be in a place where I can let loose, even if just for a little while.
These past few weeks in New York, being cooped up, unable to go out, unable to see my family, have taken their toll. Right now, I can pretend for a few hours that there’s no danger, no Michael, no one trying to hurt me or my family.
I text Sarah to let her know where we are. She shows up not long after, and the second she sees me, she squeals and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Oh my God, you’re here!” she says, squeezing me. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming back!”
“It’s for safety reasons. I'm only back for my presentation.”
We pull apart, both grinning like idiots. She glances over my shoulder at Kirill, who’s standing a few feet behind us, eyes scanning the room.
“So, he's still your bodyguard?” she asks, lowering her voice a little.
I nod. “Yeah.”
She leans in closer, whispering in my ear while looking at him. “But the way he’s looking at you… it’s like you’re more than just a job.”
I smile, unable to hide it. Sarah’s eyes widen.
“Wow, you bad girl. You’re sleeping with your bodyguard?”
I laugh, shushing her. “Keep your voice down. He can hear you.”
From behind us, Kirill’s deep voice cuts in. “Yeah. I can hear you actually.”
Sarah looks like she might faint. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she manages a weak, “Oh my God.”
I grab her hand, laughing. “I’ll tell you all about it later. But right now, I just want to dance.”
I pull her onto the dance floor, and we start moving to the music, swaying our hips, laughing like we used to. It feels freeing. For a few minutes, I let myself forget everything else.
Sarah leans in close while we dance. “Wow. The way he is looking at you right now… if looks could kill, I’d be dead.”
I glance over and see Kirill watching us, watching me, with that intense, possessive look that makes my stomach flutter.
I smile at Sarah. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s just being cautious.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
I hesitate, then shake my head. “It’s best if you don’t know. But yeah… something is going on with my family.”
She doesn’t push. She just squeezes my hand and keeps dancing with me, letting me have this moment of normalcy.
Kirill
I watch Milana and her best friend dance from the edge of the floor, arms crossed, eyes never leaving her for long.
The way she moves, free, happy, lost in the music, has me completely enamored. She’s glowing under the flashing lights, laughing with her friend, her body swaying to the beat like she’s finally letting go of everything that’s been weighing her down.
I like seeing her like this but I can't let my guard down.
My eyes scan the crowd constantly, checking faces, exits, shadows. I didn’t want to be here. We should be back in the hotel room where it’s safer.
But when she looked at me with those eyes and told me she’d been locked up for weeks, that she needed to breathe, I gave in.
She has me whipped. Wrapped around her little finger. And the worst part is, I don’t even mind.
Just then, I notice a guy standing near the bar. He’s been watching Milana and Sarah for a while now. At first, I brushed it off as some prick admiring her.
But the way he’s looking at her is different. Focused. Calculating. My gut twists with that familiar warning.
I push off the wall and start moving toward him, weaving through the crowd. But the second I get closer, he slips into the sea of bodies and disappears.
I stop, scanning the area, jaw tight. Where the hell did he go? Who was he? I know someone might be tracking us. Michael’s reach is long, and he’s not the only player in this game.
I make my way back to the edge of the dance floor, eyes locked on Milana again. She’s still dancing, unaware, laughing with Sarah.
I need to get her out of here soon.