Velella

69. Destroyer

DESTROYER

If I’d ever fallen asleep, her screams would have woken me.

“Carina.” I shake her harder. “Carina.”

Her eyes fly open, pupils dilated as she searches the dark room wildly.

She was asleep when I came upstairs after thanking the rest of the men who had assisted with the rescue mission, not stirring once.

She slept soundly—peacefully—for the remainder of the day and well into the night.

And now, she’s terrified. Her fingernails scratch my wrist as she reaches for me, survival instincts warring with her desire for comfort.

I roll over her, offering her the blanket of my body while keeping enough weight off so she won’t feel trapped.

Her rapid inhales slow, gradually, arms relaxing on the sheets.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I’m here.”

Carina lifts her head off the pillow and kisses me, the swipe of her tongue urgent as she teases the seam of my lips. Her back arches, seeking more contact between our bodies.

I kiss her back, but I don’t touch her anywhere else.

I let her be the aggressor, palms exploring exposed skin.

I showered before joining her in bed and didn’t bother to put anything on because I had no chance to unpack before everything went to shit.

The rental Carina drove to her lunch is probably still at her father’s restaurant, our suitcases stashed in the trunk.

She pulls back suddenly. “He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Carina bites her bottom lip, leaving white impressions behind on the pink skin. “You were gone a long time.”

I say nothing. There were plenty of witnesses to Morello’s death because I wanted word to spread about what happened to men who threatened my family, but Carina won’t hear any of those details from me.

There are some lines that can’t be uncrossed.

Some confessions that can’t be forgotten. Some sins that can’t be forgiven.

“He played one of my pieces—I think he was the one who mailed the program to my father.”

I nod. “He did.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“He saw you at your father’s vineyard last summer.

Did some digging into your background and realized you weren’t who they said you were.

He sent the program to your father so he’d do exactly what he did—bring you back.

It played out exactly how he’d expected until you ran.

He didn’t know Salvatore had planned to kill him. ”

I had fun sharing that with him. Letting him know his careful plan was going to be derailed all along.

It was far preferable to the fury that appeared every time Nico told me Carina was his to claim.

That she was his rightful property. That Salvatore was in no position to renege on their arrangement.

“He’d been monitoring Isabella since Madrid, thinking you’d reach out to her.” I hesitate before adding, “Her parents are dead.”

Carina’s exhale is tremulous. “So is she.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

She nods once in acknowledgment, releasing a shaky exhale. “It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t found me, I’d be ... Th-thank you. For saving me—again.”

“You never ever have to thank me for that.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I was careless. I didn’t bring a gun, and I didn’t—”

“You should have been safe here.”

“But I wasn’t. If you hadn’t taught me to shoot and to fight, I wouldn’t have—I would have been …”

I sweep my thumb across the edge of the bandage on her arm. “You learned those skills yourself, Carina. No one can take them away from you, no matter the situation.”

“Thank you,” she whispers again. “I’m glad you jumped into that pool.”

I smile at her reference to our first meeting, catching her wince when she adjusts position. “Is your arm bothering you?”

I got a full report of her injury from the doctor downstairs—a gunshot graze that required no stitches—but I’d rather hear it from her.

“I’m fine. It’s a bad scrape, basically. No stitches necessary.” She hesitates. “Nico never touched me. I wasn’t—I was lucky in some ways. I would have fought, but I—” Her voice breaks. “I might not have been able to …”

I adjust so more of my weight is on my left arm, leaving my right hand free to cup her cheek. Nico would have bragged, while he was still capable of talking, if he’d hurt her in that way. But it’s still a relief to hear firsthand it never happened.

“All you can do is fight, Carina. And you are the strongest soldier I’ve ever trained.”

Her smile is small but steady. “How did you find me?”

“Isabella was a diabetic.”

A spasm of grief crosses Carina’s face, probably in response to the past tense. “I know.”

“I had Misha track her glucose monitor. It transmitted data to Chicago General. He was able to trace the location it was last sharing from.”

“You brought a team here? Once you knew where I was?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t know they were coming. Misha had told Maksim what happened.”

“Have you talked to your father?”

“No.”

That’s an awkward conversation I’ll put off for as long as possible.

I’ll need to have one with Aleksandr, too, which will be uncomfortable for both of us.

I’ve risked my life for his countless times.

This is the first time he’s risked his for me, yet it feels like the balance is uneven in his favor.

Probably because this was personal, not business.

“Some honeymoon, huh?” she says, trailing her fingers down my arm.

I huff a laugh. “Yes.”

“When did you lose track of the number?”

“I stopped counting at thirty. I didn’t see the point in keeping track.”

“I killed two of Nico’s men. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t freak out, like in Dublin. If I’m abducted again—”

“You won’t be,” I growl.

“I could be. I know the risks. I can’t change who my father is, but I married you, knowing what could happen. To me or to you. I’d marry you all over again, even after what just happened. And I’d kill for you too, you know. I have. I wasn’t trying to escape them. I was trying to get back to you.”

I’m getting better at processing the emotions that hit anytime Carina shares her feelings with me. I kiss her, telling her I love her again.

She breaks the kiss first, sitting up and shifting until she’s straddling me.

The short nightgown she has on bunches around her thighs.

Some of her clothes must have stayed here after her last visit.

Carina leans over me, her hair falling around us like a private curtain as she brushes a finger over the shadow under my left eye.

“You look tired.”

“Not much sleep.”

She smiles ruefully. “You can smoke, if you want.”

“I quit.”

Her smile grows. “You did?”

“Yes. I hear it is bad for you.”

“It took eleven years for that to sink in?”

“No. It took you marrying me for me to care about living for longer.”

Her entire body softens, her pelvis pressing more firmly against my hardening dick.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“Ya rad eto slyshat.”

“What did you say?”

“That you should learn more Russian.”

Carina rolls her eyes, yanks the covers down, then returns to the same position. “You should learn some manners.” She pulls her pajamas over her head, revealing she’s wearing nothing underneath. “I thought you’d wake me up when you came to bed.”

“You needed sleep, not sex.”

“I wanted to know you were here. It chases the nightmares away. And now, I want sex.”

Her hips lift and circle, rubbing my dick.

I sit up, reaching her waist.

Carina bats my hands away. “You have to wait, Lev. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

I fist the sheets. “I needed to—”

“Yeah, I get why you did it. But I’m still annoyed. If anything like that ever happens again, remember that I need you more than you need revenge.”

I manage a nod, increasingly distracted by the friction between our bodies.

“Promise me, Lev.”

“I promise.”

Privately, I’m quite convinced no man will have any interest in dying the way that Nico Morello did. If threatening my family was considered suicidal before, it’ll be seen as insane now. Threats are always more powerful in practice, not theory.

Carina’s breathing is increasingly erratic as she writhes on my lap. The tip of my cock is leaking, making even more of a mess between us.

“I bet you feel so empty,” I tell her. “So wet. So ready for me.”

Her chest heaves, her nipples hard points. I lean forward and bend my head, sucking one into my mouth. She whimpers, then swears.

I smile before my mouth moves to her other breast. By making me wait, she’s also depriving herself.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave if I’d seen you first, and he needed to pay. I protect my family, and that’s what you are—my family.”

Carina groans. “Fuck it. Touch me. Fuck me. Now.”

I grin. “Thought you said that wouldn’t work again?”

She turns her head, biting my shoulder. Hard enough to feel, but not enough to break the skin. “Do you want another scar, or do you want to get laid?”

I grip her knees and pull them wider apart, then fist my erection and swipe the head through her soaked slit.

Carina moans my name, tilting her head back. Her eyes flutter closed as she waits for me to enter her.

I only slip in an inch at first, letting more of her slick arousal coat me. I love being coated in her, of getting to feel how badly she wants me.

“More,” she pants. “Please.”

I grip her waist, guiding her lower.

Her breathing quickens the more she takes, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy as she moans, “So good.”

I watch my cock disappear inside of her, her cunt spreading to accommodate my size. Primal lust and possessiveness pump through me. There’s a sense of comfort, too, that I’ve never experienced during sex before. We’re as intimately connected as two people can possibly be.

That is something I will never ever take for granted again, not after hearing Salvatore say, “Carina was taken.”

I give her a moment to adjust once she’s fully seated, angling her hips so her clit rubs against my pelvis. She clenches around me, trying to take me deeper, even though it took a while to wedge this far.

I roll us over, both of us groaning at the friction of adjusting positions, then start to fuck her for real.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as I lift her left knee, opening her even wider.

Something beside the bed clatters and falls.

I kiss her, biting her lower lip. From experience, I know she won’t last long in this position.

She can’t control how fast or deep I thrust.

I try a new trick, too, whispering, “Come for me, baby.”

Carina tightens around me, her muscles tensing, then relaxing as her release hits.

I let go as soon as she stops convulsing, filling her cunt with so much cum that it immediately starts to seep out. I pull out, making more of a mess, using my fingers to push it back in.

She watches me do it. “When you asked about kids … I would only want them with you. That’s what I was trying to say.”

I smile. “And do you?”

“I—now’s probably not the best time to …” She bites her bottom lip. “I was so scared, earlier, when you took forever to come back. I’ve never been—I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I would love our kids like that. If anything ever happened to them, I wouldn’t be able to … exist.”

I think of the terror of the past forty-six hours. “I understand.”

“I know you do. And then I think about all of the years I spent hiding, afraid someone would find out who I was, and how I wish I’d learned how to fight sooner. Letting fear win feels wrong.”

“We don’t have to decide right now, Carina.”

“We do,” she says somberly. “In case Salvatore tries to murder you tomorrow.”

I snort. “He likes me now.”

“He might have liked you, but he’s a light sleeper, and his room is across the hall, so …”

“He should buy more pillows. You are my wife, Carina. I’ll fuck you whenever you tell me to, no matter who is listening.”

She smiles, then says, “Dokazhi eto.”

So, I do.