Chapter 26
NIKA
Daniel looks terrible. He lays under blankets in a back room, pale and sweating. Gabe’s at his bedside, not saying much, while a television plays a show in French neither of them can understand.
I watch from the other room. Eggs fry in the small kitchen.
I keep checking on the pair of them, fluttering at the edges of the hallway, waiting for something terrible to happen: shouting, yelling, more blood, but it’s quiet.
The two men sit in silence and stare straight ahead.
I’m not sure how aware Daniel is right now— the doctor pumped him full of pain meds after stitching his wounds shut.
“You should eat.” I touch Gabe’s shoulder and try to steer him away from the bed. He doesn’t want to move at first. I can tell the thought of leaving Daniel alone is difficult. But eventually he lets me guide him into the other room. I close the door, giving us some privacy.
“We can’t stay here long.” Gabe sits with a heavy sigh at the small table. The house is a wreck. The people who lived here before it was sold smoked for fifty years. The ceilings and walls are tobacco-stained and the floorboards are caked with grime.
“I won’t miss it.”
“I’m worried about moving him.” Gabe eats mechanically, frowning at the plate. “Doctor said it would be a bad idea.”
“What’s the other option?”
“There isn’t one.” His jaw sets as he looks up at me. “Except killing Artyom.”
“Can you do that?”
“I might. I don’t know.” He goes back to eating, a glint of determination in his expression.
I sit beside him and put my hand on his arm. He pauses, touches my fingers with his, before pulling me against him. I kiss his shoulder and let his arms wrap around me as he pushes back from the table and drags me into his lap.
I curl into him, kissing his neck, his cheek, his chin.
“You almost died,” I whisper, heart fluttering.
“Wasn’t the first time.”
“But it was bad, right? Really bad?”
“Daniel got the worst of it.”
“Still—“
“This is what it means to be who I am.” He lifts my chin, eyes locked on mine. “This is the risk we take.”
“I know.” I chew my lip, uncertain and afraid. “But what if it went wrong? What if it goes wrong next time?”
“We’re in the network. I don’t know how, but they got the drop on us. I think we got lazy, maybe arrogant, and those two thugs made us. Next time, I’m going in against Artyom directly, and I’m ending this up front.”
Rage simmers in his body. I feel the heat of it rising from his skin. His well-honed muscles are tense, and I’m afraid of what he’s going to do next, how far he’s willing to go, what terrible, reckless risks he’s going to take.
Time’s running out.
I turn to face him, wrapping my legs around his middle and straddling him. I grind down, my core brushing over and against him as I arch my back and lean my forehead into his. His rumble of pleasure sends a piercing spike through my belly. His hands grab my ass, holding me against him.
“You know what I like?”
“When I sink myself between your legs.”
“Well—“
“When I tug your hair—“ He grips it, lacing his fingers and holding hard. “When I make it hurt.”
“Yes, but that’s not what I was talking about.”
“What else could you possibly think about right now?”
I kiss him, then pull back before he can devour me. I like his frustrated growl like he can’t stand me teasing him.
“I’ve never seen you so worried about one of your men before.”
“That’s what you’re talking about?”
“You care about Daniel.”
“I care about fucking you.” His grip in my hair tenses as he tugs my chin up. His lips suck at my neck and chin, moving to my mouth. “I care about filling you, stroking into you, again and again, stretching you wide—“
“You’re deflecting.”
“I care about losing myself between your legs until I can’t think straight anymore.”
“Yep, sounds like you’re running from your feelings.”
“I’m running toward what feels good.”
“You always have an answer, don’t you?” I push forward, hands tugging on his hair in return. He grunts at that, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Admit you’re worried about your friend.”
“He’s an employee.”
“Bullshit. It’s more.”
“I’m blackmailing him, baby. I’m paying his debts. That’s the only reason he stays with me.”
I shake my head. “Just because you’re paying him, doesn’t mean you’re not friends. The man almost died for you.”
His expression darkens. There’s a real anger in his eyes now. “I know what happened.”
“Then admit you care. It’s not a bad thing.”
“I fucking care,” he snarls, pulling my hair.
I gasp at his sudden intensity. His other hand rips my top up, yanking my bra with it, hand cupping my breast. He squeezes hard, sending a sharp pang of desire into my core.
“I care about you, Nika. I care about my fucking wife, and my soldiers, and my god damn friend dying in the other room.”
I slam my mouth to his, whimpering and desperate.
He kisses me back hard, stripping me down, throwing off my shirt, tossing aside my bra.
I do the same to him, then press myself against his chest, skin to skin.
He pulls me back until my hands lean on his knees, his mouth on my breasts, sucking my nipples, tugging at my jeans.
I lift up and stand as he peels them down, along with my panties, one hand slipping between my legs.
“I fucking care,” he repeats, his fingers gliding up and down my slit. I spread a little wider for him, standing while he sits, my fingers lacing into his hair as he licks and nips at my tits, his fingers teasing my pussy. “You think that’s easy for me? I tried to burn that part of me away.”
“I like it.” I bury my mouth in his hair, breathing him as his fingers slide inside, filling me. “Oh god, I really like it.”
“Of course you do, love. This is what you are. A filthy little slut for me, all needy and pathetic until my big cock’s between your legs.”
“Shit…”
“Tell me I’m wrong. You want me to care? Good, I care, especially about making you come. I want to taste it, smell it, breathe it. God, I want to see you break for me. I want to watch you crawl until you’re so tense you shatter.”
“Damn it, Gabe…” I pull back, about to tell him to stop making this about sex—but the needy look in his eyes, the desperation, makes me keep my mouth shut.
He knows as well as I do what he’s going through.
He knows these feelings, caring about his men, about me and Daniel, he knows it’s fucking him up and making him stronger at the same time, but he needs some kind of vent for his frustrations.
And if I’m honest, I want that to be me.
I kiss him hard, bending forward to slip my tongue into his mouth as his fingers pump in deeper. When it feels like I might scream with how good it feels, I drop to my knees. He watches me, mouth open, and I love that look in his eye. He’s as out of control as I am.
I take his hand and lick his fingers clean, meeting his gaze defiantly, then help him get his jeans off. His dick’s so hard it twitches when he takes it out, one fist wrapped about the base, his eyes burning with how badly he wants me. The tip glistens with precum, wet and shining.
I love it. I love how badly he needs me to touch him. It makes me feel powerful and excited and fucked up all at once, and I can’t get enough.
I lean forward and kiss his tip. I suck it, tongue going into his slit.
He moans, hunched forward, grip still at the base, his fingers wrapping into my hair.
I hold his hips, lick harder, circling him, take him further into my mouth, sucking him.
I hollow my cheeks, glide in more, until I feel his hand and can’t go any deeper.
I pull back, gasping, spit drifting from my lips to his shaft.
He leans down and kisses me hard, wet and spitty, before shoving me back down.
“Fuck, Nika,” he moans, thrusting into my mouth. I whimper but let him fuck my lips, heart pounding as I slip a hand between my legs, stroking myself. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. I want to rip you to pieces, baby, and I want to fuck every inch of your bloody corpse.”
I jerk back, gasping. “Gabe!”
“That’s how badly I want you.”
“It’s weird!”
“Then stop sucking my cock if you don’t like it.”
I lick him, pouting, but secretly I’m buzzing with how twisted this man’s mind can be.
He shoves a thumb in my mouth, swirling it around, before pushing my lips open wider.
I whimper when his dick fucks my lips again, his groans driving me wild as my fingers stroke my clit faster.
Whirls of pleasure burn in my skull, making me dizzy and wild with bliss, until he yanks me back by the hair.
“Fuck if you keep moaning on my cock like that I’m going to come in the back of your throat.”
“Then do it.”
He leans down. One hand cups my pussy, the other jerks my hair until our lips bang together. I moan into his possessive kiss.
“There’s only one place I want to come, love, and that’s deep between your legs.”
I purr, not too gone to notice that he’s calling me love, and not too stupid to realize I really like it. “Why’s that? We should be careful, right?”
“Except you’re my wife. Fuck careful. Fuck everything. I want to fill you to the brim and satisfy you.”
“You think that’s satisfying to me?”
“I think your virgin pussy needs to be taught what it loves.”
Well fuck.
He drags me into his lap. I straddle him, not sure what I’m doing, but his hands help me get the motion right.
I grind back, taking him inside, moaning low and loud as he fills me completely.
It still hurts, but a lot less—his dick’s soaked from my spit and I’m dripping with arousal.
He fills me and I ease down his shaft, before I grind back up and start to ride him.
He sucks my tits, licking my stiff nipples as I go faster.
I’ve never done this before and I’m pretty sure this freaking chair’s about to break, but I don’t care.
I go harder as his hands squeeze my breasts, sucking, licking, moaning with these deep animal groans, and his dick feels like heaven, but that’s not what kills me.
It’s how much he wants this. How his hands explore me, his mouth can’t get off me, his eyes can’t look anywhere but me.
It’s the way he’s sinking so deeply into this and dragging me down with him.
It’s all so broken, all so fucked, and I love it so much it’s making my brain twist. He reaches back, grips my ass and smacks my cheeks hard, before spreading me wide and pounding into me.
“That’s right, baby, take it all,” he moans into my ear as I wrap my arms around his neck and lean forward. He takes over, driving in deep. I bite his shoulder, screaming out with how good it feels.
“God damn it, Nika, love, I can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—“ The pure distress, the utter bliss, the terror and the elation in his tone throws me over the edge.
I grind down hard as the orgasm slams into me. I shatter, I break, I melt against this man, this hateful broken man, this perfect, beautiful man, I come so hard I can’t see or think or feel, there’s only him filling me up, draining himself into my pussy, holding me down so I get every single drop.
“Fuck baby,” he says, gasping for breath. I look up and kiss him, tangling fingers into his hair.
“Was that what you wanted?” I whisper, nipping at the corner of his lips.
“God yes. Exactly what I needed and more.”
“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
He laughs and smacks my butt roughly. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t nearly fall off me you came so hard.”
“I did not!”
“Please, love, you didn’t even realize. I had to hold you up.”
“Well, I mean—“ My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I enjoyed myself, okay!”
“Good.” He strokes a thumb down my cheek. “That’s what I want.”
I lean into him and we stay like that. I fit so right in his lap.
I listen to his heart and close my eyes, trying not to think about what’s back in Paris, what’s waiting for us, Daniel’s unconscious body in the other room, all the dead we’ve already left in our wake.
I try not to dream about the mistakes we might still make and how it could damn us all to hell if we don’t get this right.
“It makes you a better leader,” I murmur, feeling heavy and light all at once. “Caring about them.”
“I’m not sure it does.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be sure for both of us.”
He sighs, burying his face in my neck, and breathes me in deep. “You should know… I’m going to do something dangerous soon.”
“Oh really? Huge shock there.”
“No, I’m serious. I’m taking a swing and I might miss. You need to… prepare yourself.”
He leans back, biting on my lip. I really don’t like where this is going. “What’s that mean?”
“I put together a go-bag for you. There’s cash, passports, a gun, train tickets, and instructions on how to get to Moscow and who to reach out to once you’re there. Yelena will take care of you—“
“Stop it.”
“This is important. If I die, you have to run. Artyom will come after you. Go to Moscow, tell Yelena what happened, and she’ll find somewhere safe. You’re rich now, Nika. You can do anything, go anywhere. Use that money to be happy.”
“That’s what I’m already doing.”
“Good. Promise me. If this goes wrong, you’ll run.”
“Gabe, stop.”
His grip on me tightens painfully. “Promise.” His voice trembles with pain.
I touch his face with the back of my hand and nod. “I promise. I’ll find Aunt Yelena.”
“Good.” Relief relaxes him, but I still hate this. I know it’s a possibility, that he might not win, that he might end up getting killed, but I’m trying not to think about it.
Gabe has to make it through. Otherwise, what has this all been for?
I press into him and he seems content to let it go, but my mind’s a mess and I’m fighting back against a fear that seems like it wants to drag me back under, drown me, choke me and break me, and it might if I let it.