34. Emil
EMIL
Iwatch Kiera's face carefully as the information sinks in. She's standing near her bed, arms crossed defensively, and I can see the tension in her shoulders.
"Tell me about this council," she says. "What exactly do they do?"
I move away from the window, closer to where she stands. "I established the council years ago. When I first became Pakhan."
"Why?"
"Because absolute power corrupts absolutely.
" The words taste bitter, but they're true.
"I've seen what happens when a Pakhan has no checks on his authority.
Men become monsters. They abuse their position, hurt their own people, and make decisions based on ego instead of what's best for the organization. "
Kiera's expression softens slightly. "So you created a system to keep yourself accountable."
"Yes." I sit on the edge of her bed, suddenly tired. "The council is made up of senior members of the organization. Men who've proven their loyalty and wisdom over decades. They advise me on major decisions. They hear complaints from family members who might be afraid to come directly to me."
"Even complaints about you?"
"Especially complaints about me." I meet her gaze. "If I'm making a mistake, if I'm letting personal feelings cloud my judgment, they're supposed to call me on it. They're supposed to protect the organization, even from me if necessary."
She moves closer, her blue eyes studying my face. "That's actually pretty smart."
"It's necessary." I reach out and take her hand, pulling her to stand between my legs.
"But it also means they have significant power.
They can't forbid me from marrying you. I'm still the Pakhan, and my word is final.
But they can make things difficult. They can refuse to support the marriage publicly.
They can create problems within the organization. "
"And my brothers?"
My jaw tightens. "If they decide you're unsuitable, if they think you're a liability, they'll pressure me to take action. Against you. Against your family. They'll argue that your brothers, especially Jack, are too dangerous to leave alive."
Fear flashes across her face. "So this meeting tomorrow night…"
"Is crucial." I pull her closer, my hands settling on her hips. "They need to see that you're strong. That you understand our world and can handle it, and that you're worthy of being the Pakhan’s wife."
"No pressure or anything," she mutters.
Despite everything, I smile. "You'll be fine. You've already proven you can hold your own. The way you handled those women in the living room, and how you stood up to your brothers at dinner tonight, for example. You have the strength they're looking for."
"I don't feel strong right now." Her voice is quiet. "I feel trapped."
"I know." The admission costs me something. "But you're not alone in this. I'll be there. And despite what you might think, I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to protect you."
She looks down at me, her expression conflicted. Then, slowly, she reaches up and touches my face. Her fingers trace the line of my jaw and the scruff of my beard.
"You're a complicated man, Emil Nikitin."
"I'm a dangerous man," I correct. "Don't forget that."
"I haven't." Her thumb brushes across my lower lip. "I saw what you did to that man in the interrogation room. I know what you're capable of."
"And yet you're still here."
"And yet I'm still here," she echoes.
The air between us shifts. Charges. I can see the moment she makes her decision, the way her eyes darken with desire.
"Stand up," she says.
I raise an eyebrow. "Giving orders now?"
"Yes." Her voice is firm. "Stand up."
Intrigued, I do as she asks. She immediately pushes me back toward the bed, her hands on my chest. I let her guide me, curious to see where this is going.
"Sit," she commands.
I sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at her. She's standing between my legs again, but this time she's the one in control. The shift in dynamic is unexpected and arousing as hell.
"Take off your shirt," she says.
I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. Her eyes roam over my chest, taking in the tattoos, muscles, and scars from a lifetime of violence. She reaches out and traces one of the scars, a long line across my ribs from a knife fight years ago.
"Does it hurt?" she asks.
"Not anymore."
Her fingers continue their exploration, moving over my chest, shoulders, and then my arms. She's mapping my body with her touch, learning every inch of me. When she reaches the tattoo sleeve on my left arm, she pauses.
"Tell me about this one."
"The snake represents danger. The panther represents power." I watch her face as she studies the intricate design. "The jungle represents the world I live in. Beautiful but deadly."
"And the words hidden in the vines?"
"Bratva code. Rules I live by."
She leans down and presses a kiss to the tattoo, right over the hidden words. The gesture is unexpectedly tender, and something in my chest tightens.
"Now the pants," she says, straightening.
I stand and unfasten my belt, sliding my pants and boxer briefs down in one motion. My cock is already hard, jutting out from my body. Kiera's eyes drop to it, and I see her throat work as she swallows.
"Your turn," I say, my voice rough.
She steps back and slowly pulls her shirt over her head. She's not wearing a bra, and her breasts are perfect. Full and round with pink nipples that are already hard. I want to reach out and touch them, but I force myself to stay still. This is her show and I'm anxious to see what she'll do next.
She unbuttons her jeans and slides them down her legs, taking her panties with them. When she straightens, she's completely naked, and I drink in the sight of her. Her flat stomach, the curve of her hips, and the red hair between her thighs.
"You're beautiful," I say.
She moves closer, pushing me back onto the bed. I go willingly, lying back against the pillows. She climbs on top of me, straddling my hips. Her wet heat is right above my cock, and it takes every ounce of control not to grab her hips and pull her down onto me.
"I want to be in control tonight," she says, her hands on my chest. "Can you handle that?"
"Yes." The word comes out strained.
She leans down and kisses me, her tongue sliding into my mouth. I kiss her back, my hands moving to her ass, squeezing the firm flesh. She grinds against me, her wetness coating my cock, and I groan into her mouth.
When she pulls back, her eyes are dark with desire. She reaches between us and positions my cock at her entrance. Then, slowly, she sinks down onto me.
Fuck. The sensation of her tight heat enveloping me is almost too much. I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her skin as she takes me deeper. She's so wet, so hot.
"God, you feel good," she breathes.
She starts to move, rising up until just the tip of my cock is inside her, then sinking back down. The pace is slow, deliberate, and it's driving me insane. I want to flip her over and pound into her, but I force myself to let her control this.
Her breasts bounce with each movement, and I can't resist anymore. I sit up, wrapping one arm around her waist to steady her, and take one of her nipples into my mouth. She gasps, her movements faltering for a moment.
"Don't stop," I murmur against her skin.
She doesn't. She keeps riding me, her pace increasing. I suck on her nipple, then bite down gently. She cries out, her inner walls clenching around my cock.
"Emil," she moans.
I switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention. My free hand slides between us, finding her clit. I rub it in slow circles, and she shudders.
"Oh God," she gasps. "I'm going to…"
"Come for me," I command, my voice rough. "Let me feel you."
She does. Her orgasm crashes over her, her body tensing while her inner muscles clamp down on my cock like a hot, velvet vice. The sensation is incredible, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming with her.
When she comes down from her high, she's breathing hard, her forehead resting against mine. But she doesn't stop moving. She starts riding me again, harder this time, chasing another orgasm.
"Greedy," I murmur, but I'm smiling.
"Your fault," she pants.
I flip us over suddenly, pinning her beneath me. She gasps in surprise, but her legs immediately wrap around my waist.
"My turn," I say.
I pull almost all the way out, then slam back into her. She cries out, her nails digging into my back. I set a punishing pace, driving into her over and over. The bed creaks beneath us, the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust.
"Yes," she moans. "God, yes."
I can feel my orgasm building, the pressure at the base of my spine. I reach between us again, rubbing her clit, determined to make her come one more time before I do.
"Come with me," I growl. "Now."
She does. Her second orgasm triggers mine, and I bury myself deep inside her as I come. The pleasure is intense, almost painful, and I have to brace myself on my forearms to keep from crushing her.
When it's over, I roll to the side, pulling her with me. We lie there, tangled together, both of us breathing hard.
We stay like that for a while, neither of us speaking. Eventually, I feel her breathing even out as she falls asleep. I carefully extract myself from her embrace and pull the covers over her.
I gather my clothes and dress quietly, then head back to my own room. My body is satisfied, but my mind is still racing.
I shower quickly and climb into bed. For once, exhaustion wins over anxiety, and I fall asleep almost immediately.
The beep of my phone wakes me. I'm disoriented for a moment, unsure how long I've been asleep. I grab the phone from my nightstand, squinting at the bright screen.
It's a text from Luca.
My irritation at being woken fades as I read the message. Then I'm sitting up, fully alert.
I call him immediately.
"We spotted Arnie," Luca says. "Kiera's ex. He's been asking around about her. Trying to find out where she is."
"Where?"
"Started at her old apartment building. Then he hit up some bars she used to frequent. He's spreading rumors, Pakhan. Saying she's unstable. That she ran off with some criminal. He's trying to damage her reputation."