Chapter 16 Dimitri
DIMITRI
Ican't stop imagining Katya with a needle in her arm or pills in her hand.
Daniil is going to fucking pay for making her do this.
I should've prepared her better.
I should've known they'd try to test her or push her to do things she'd otherwise never do.
I'm lucky she didn't overdose or they didn't try to make her kill someone.
She's sprawled on the couch now, her eyes too bright, her movements jerky and uncoordinated.
The drugs are still in her system, making her restless.
She keeps tapping her fingers against her thigh, a rapid rhythm that grates on my nerves.
"Stop," I tell her, pinching the bridge of my nose.
I'm short tempered.
My plan isn't working out.
I'm not a man who loses control of things and this feels wildly out of my control.
"Stop what?" Her voice is sharp and hostile.
"Moving. Talking. Existing in that state."
She laughs bitterly as she narrows her eyes at me.
"You put me in this state. You and your brilliant fucking plan."
"I didn't make you take the drugs," I snap because I'm losing it.
Seeing her spinning out is tearing me up inside.
This just isn't right.
It wasn't supposed to go down like this and she's just a fucking asset.
I shouldn’t care anyway, but it's destroying me knowing I almost got her killed.
"No. Daniil did. With a gun."
She stands abruptly, swaying.
"But you sent me there. You sent me into that café knowing what they might do."
"I didn't know—"
"You should have!" She's shouting now, her hands clenched into fists.
"You should've fucking known!"
Tears spring to her eyes, but she's so angry I don’t think she even realizes it.
I cross the room in two strides, gripping her shoulders.
She tries to pull away, but I hold her firm, forcing her to look at me.
"Tell me exactly what you took," I say.
"How much?"
"Why? So you can calculate how long 'til I'm useful again?"
"So I know you're not going to die in front of me."
Now I'm getting emotional, and usually, I keep it under wraps.
"Tell me now."
Her defiance cracks.
She sags in my grip, her eyes filling with tears.
"Three lines. Maybe four. I don't know. It all happened so fast. He had the gun on the table and those men were watching and I couldn't… I couldn't think of another way."
"Shit… Coke?" I ask her, and she nods as she sobs.
I release her shoulders, my hands moving to her face to wipe away tears.
"What else did they say?"
"They want me to deliver the message. To you. That your time is up. That they're coming for revenge." Her words tumble out, frantic.
"They'll pay me forty million rubles. They said if I do it right, they'll give me more work. Better work."
"Yes, you told me that…" I'm frustrated, but it's not her fault her mind is scattered.
"And you believe him?"
"I don't know what I believe. My head is fucked. Everything is fucked."
She pulls away from me, pacing the small room.
"But I have to do it. I have to deliver the message or they'll know I'm lying."
And now she's not making sense again.
She's already delivered the message to me, but the panic remains, a sure sign it was definitely the good stuff.
I've had it a few times myself and I know exactly how fucked up she's feeling.
I watch her move, her gait uneven, her breathing too fast.
She's gonna crack and fall apart, and if I send her back to them now, they'll see it.
They'll know something's wrong.
"I'm pulling you out," I say.
She stops, turning to face me.
"What?"
"You're done. I'm pulling you from the operation."
"No."
Her voice is low, dangerous.
"You can't."
"I can. I am." I move toward her.
"This has gone too far. They forced drugs on you. They threatened to kill you if you didn't do those drugs. I won't send you back into that."
"You don't get to decide."
She steps forward, closing the distance between us.
"We had a deal. I do the job, you let me go. That was the agreement."
"The agreement didn't include them poisoning you."
"I don't care."
She's shouting again, her face flushed.
"I want my freedom. You promised me my freedom."
"You'll get it. After I end this my way."
"No." Katya spits in my face in a move so shocking, I almost backhand her.
I go still.
The saliva drips down my cheek.
I don't move or even so much as breathe as I let go of my anger and force myself not to react to her.
She's irrational because of the drugs and nothing else.
She doesn’t mean this.
But then she starts pulling at her clothes.
Her jacket hits the floor.
Her shirt follows.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Finishing the deal." She yanks off her boots, then her pants.
She stands in front of me in just her underwear, her body trembling.
"You said I had to fuck you to earn my freedom. So here I am. Let's get it over with."
"That's not—"
"You want me?" She reaches for her bra, unhooking it.
"Then take me. Fuck me. And then let me go. I can’t finish the actual job, so I'll fuck you again. Is that good enough for you, Vetrov? Fuck me again and let me go home."
The bra drops and she's bare from the waist up now, her skin flushed, her chest heaving.
When her fingers slip into the waistband of her panties, I start to tense.
She's serious?
"I'll do it again," she says, her voice breaking.
"I'll let you fuck me right now if you let me walk away tonight. That's the deal, isn't it? My body for my freedom?"
"Stop."
I grab her wrists before she can remove the last piece of clothing.
"Just stop."
"Why?"
Tears stream down her face now, hot and furious.
"Isn't this what you wanted? Me on my back, doing whatever you say?"
"No." I pull her against me, holding her tight even as she struggles.
"That's not what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
She's sobbing now, her body shaking against mine.
"What the fuck do you want from me?"
The raw scream tears up out of her chest and I don't have an answer.
Or maybe I do, but I can't say it out loud.
I ease her down onto the couch, kneeling in front of her.
Her face is streaked with tears, her eyes wild and desperate.
"I want you safe," I say.
"Katya, you're not a cheap whore to me."
"Liar."
But her voice has lost its edge.
I reach up, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"I'm pulling you out because I almost got you killed today. Not because I don't think you can do it. But because I can't watch you destroy yourself for my revenge."
"You're lying. You're a user and a pig, just like them…"
The tears don't stop coming, and I am breaking inside.
My heart has never felt like this before.
She's so pure, so willing, and I've almost destroyed her in the process of trying to unburden myself from what has been bothering me for decades.
I'm seeing her with fresh eyes, and I hate what I see now, because she's become something utterly unlike the treasure I first saw in her.
"I'm not lying, Katya. I want to protect you, and I can't do that if this is what they're going to do to you."
My hands cup both of her cheeks, thumbs drawing across her soaked cheekbones.
She stares at me, her breathing still ragged.
"I need my freedom."
"I know."
"I need to finish this so I can get my freedom."
"I know you think—"
"Then let me." Her hands come up, gripping my shirt.
"Please. Let me finish it."
I look at her—really look at her.
The drugs are still in her system, making her reckless.
But underneath that, there's something else.
Determination.
Desperation.
A need to prove herself that goes beyond our deal.
She wants to prove herself to me for some ungodly fucking reason, and I hate that idea.
"Katya…"
"Okay?" she whimpers, but I just can't.
I won't let her put herself in danger again.
I stand, pulling her up with me.
She sways, and I catch her, steadying her.
Her skin is warm under my hands, her body still trembling.
"I hate you," she whispers.
"I know."
"I hate how much I need you."
"I know."
She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.
"And I hate that you're the only person who makes me feel safe."
I know she doesn't mean that at all.
And I don't like that she's still fighting me.
"I hate how much you've gotten under my skin," I admit. "I hate that I can't let you go."
Her breath catches.
Then she's kissing me, desperate and hungry.
I kiss her back, my hands tangling in her hair.
Her lips crash into mine like a fucking storm, all teeth and tongue and the bitter tang of whatever shit Daniil forced into her system.
I can’t pull back—hell, I don’t want to.
My fingers knot deeper in her hair, yanking her head back to angle her mouth under mine, devouring her like she’s the only thing keeping me from unraveling.
She’s half-naked, her bare tits pressing against my shirt, nipples hard.
I feel her heat, the way her body’s still buzzing from the coke, making every touch electric.
She moans into my mouth, her hands clawing at my shirt, nails digging in like she wants to rip me open.
“Dimitri,” she gasps when I break the kiss to drag my teeth down her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks.
“Fuck me. Make it hurt.”
I growl against her skin, shoving her back onto the couch.
She lands with a thud, legs splaying open, her panties the only thing between us.
Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide from the drugs, but there’s fire there—pure, unfiltered need.
I strip off my shirt in one strong pull, tossing it aside, then drop to my knees between her thighs.
My hands grip her hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh, bruising her because I need to mark her as mine, even if it’s just for this fucked-up moment.
“Spread your legs wider,” I order.
She does, hooking one over the arm of the couch, exposing herself through the thin lace.
I see the damp spot, smell her arousal mixing with the sweat on her skin, and I hook my fingers into her panties and rip them off, the fabric tearing with a sharp snap.
She yelps, but it’s not pain.
It’s hunger.
Her pussy is slick and swollen, begging for it.
I don’t tease.
I’m not in the mood for games.
I lean in and bury my face between her thighs, tongue thrusting deep into her folds, lapping at her like a starving man.
She tastes like sin, salty and sweet, her juices coating my chin as I suck on her clit.
Her hips buck up, grinding against my mouth, and she threads her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer.
“Oh God, yes—right there, you bastard,” she hisses. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that makes her arch off the cushions.
She’s wet, clenching around me, her walls pulsing like she’s already on the edge.
I pump them faster, my tongue flicking her clit in rhythm, feeling her body tense and tremble.
She comes hard, screaming my name, her thighs clamping around my head like a vise.
I don’t stop, riding her through it, sucking every shudder out of her until she’s panting and limp.
When I pull back, my face is smeared with her, and she’s looking at me like she wants to devour me whole.
“Get up,” I command, standing and unbuckling my belt.
My cock is straining against my pants, aching to be inside her.
She scrambles to her feet, still shaky from the high and the orgasm, but she doesn’t hesitate.
Her hands fumble with my zipper, yanking it down and shoving my pants and boxers off in one go.
My dick springs free, as hard as a rock, precum beading at the tip.
She wraps her hand around me, stroking roughly, her grip tight enough to make me hiss.
“You want this pussy?” she taunts. “Then take it. Fuck me like you own me.”
I spin her around, bending her over the arm of the couch.
Her ass is up, perfect and round, and I smack it hard, the crack echoing in the room.
She gasps, pushing back against me.
“Again,” she demands.
I oblige, landing another slap, watching her skin bloom red under my palm.
Then I grab her hips, lining up my cock with her entrance.
She’s dripping, ready, and I thrust in deep with one brutal stroke, burying myself to the hilt.
Fuck, she’s tight—hot and velvet around me, squeezing like she was made for this.
“Shit, Dimitri—harder,” she begs.
I pull out almost all the way, then slam back in, setting a punishing rhythm.
The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air, mixed with her moans and my grunts.
I reach around, pinching her nipple between my fingers, twisting just enough to make her cry out.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” I growl.
“This what you needed? My cock stretching you open?”
“Yes—fuck, yes,” she whimpers.
I snake a hand into her hair, wrapping it around my fist and yanking her head back.
Her neck arches, exposing the column of her throat, and I wish I could bite it.
She’s clenching around me, her body trembling again, another orgasm building.
I feel it in the way she stiffens, the way her breaths come in short gasps.
I slide my free hand down her belly, finding her clit and rubbing circles over and over.
“Come for me again,” I demand.
“Milk me, Katya.”
She shatters, her pussy spasming around me, pulling me deeper.
I don’t slow down, fucking her through it, the wet sounds obscene and driving me insane.
When she slumps forward, spent, I pull out and flip her onto her back on the couch.
I climb over her, hooking her legs over my shoulders, folding her in half.
Her eyes lock on mine as I sink back in, deeper this time, hitting angles that make her gasp.
“Look at you,” I mutter.
“Taking my dick like a good little slut.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she snaps, but her nails rake down my back, drawing blood, urging me on.
I pick up the pace, slamming into her, the couch creaking under us.
Sweat drips from my brow onto her tits, and I lean down to lick it off, sucking one nipple into my mouth while I pinch the other.
Her hands are everywhere—clawing my shoulders, grabbing my ass to pull me deeper.
“Deeper—God, Dimitri, ruin me,” she moans.
I do.
I fuck her like it’s the end of the world, raw and relentless, our bodies slick and slapping together.
The pressure builds in my balls, and I know I’m close.
She senses it, wrapping her legs tighter around me.
“Inside,” she whispers, her eyes fierce.
“Fill me up.”
That’s all it takes.
I thrust one last time, burying myself deep as I come, spilling hot and thick inside her.
Rope after rope, pulsing into her pussy, marking her from the inside out.
She clenches around me, drawing it out, her own aftershocks milking every drop.
I collapse on top of her, both of us panting, bodies tangled and sticky.
As the haze clears, reality crashes back. I'm heaving for breath, slick with sweat as I pin her down, and she's still high as a kite.
But the Radich’s have made themselves clear.
They're coming for me and they're not going to be shy about it from now on.
And I can't let Katya get caught in the middle.
What the fuck am I going to do?