Page 44 of The Lazarov Bratva

I’m not giving her up.

“Take Katja home. Make sure she stays quiet.”

Ivan nods, turns on his heel, and strides away. His concern is noted but misplaced. Alena is mine. When I’m finished with her, she won’t know any other truth. I deserve this for all the work I’ve put into this family.

And Alena?

She’s too good for anyone else, certainly not Mikhail and his fucked-up family. When I’m finished with her, it’ll be me she craves as much as she craves oxygen to breathe. She’ll get wet at the mere sight of me, beg for my cock, and commit acts of filth just to get it.

My mind runs, and my cock tightens in my pants once more. I will myself back in control. First, I need to get her out of here.

“Alena.”

Her bright eyes flick to me, and she smiles the sunniest, warmest smile that makes my usually stoic heart flutter ever so slightly.

“Here.”

Holding out the jacket to her, my attention remains fixed on her as she leaps up from the couch and then stumbles as her legs struggle to obey her. Likely a mixture of the alcohol and my pounding of her core. She laughs and stumbles, shooting out a hand to my arm for balance. I catch her easily, and she giggles and accepts the coat.

“You fucked me so hard I can’t walk.” She grins.

“I’ll fuck you harder next time,” I say softly.

Alena laughs and works her way into the coat, slowly hiding her beautiful body from my view. I’m irrationally jealous of the fabric being able to touch her all over. Soon.

Frustration still simmers under my skin from her recklessness, and while her running away has presented me with a golden opportunity, her drunken state suggests the lesson hasn’t sunk in. She wobbles away from me, and I catch her arm, pulling her close. Her gaze flicks up to me, and she smiles widely again and then slowly licks her lips. It’s like she’s teasing me, and heat licks up my spine.

“Come on,” I instruct, and I slide my arm over her shoulders, tucking her smaller form against me. She clutches at the edges of her coat, holding it closed.

“Where are we going?” she asks, stumbling against me slightly as we leave the room.

“Home.”

“Oh, God,” Alena groans softly. “Father is going to kill me.” She brushes her hair away from her forehead and sighs deeply.

She’s right. If he finds out, he’ll probably kill us both. But that’s not the home I’m taking her to.

Alena is coming with me.

And she’s not going to leave.

I lead her down the dark corridor toward the back entrance. It’s very discreet and often used by people hoping to slip away unnoticed after a night of festivities, so it fits us perfectly. Alena stays by my side until we step outside, and only then does she voice a complaint as her bare feet step onto the cold stone steps.

“Mmm, can’t we go back inside?” she asks, resisting slightly as I lead her down the steps. The weight and pressure of my arm remain absolute, so she has no choice but to follow.

“Once you’re in the car, you’ll feel much better,” I tell her.

Still, she grumbles and resists slightly. “I don’t want to go back home. I don’t want to stop yet. Can’t we…” She stops on the last step and grabs my shirt, pulling me close in an unexpected twist. I’m on the ground, and the step gives her some extra height. Her eyes flick over my face, and she sucks her lower lip into her mouth.

“Can’t we have sex again? One more time?”

“You’re insatiable,” I growl softly. She really doesn’t want to go back, does she? “Get in the limo, Alena.”

“But—”

“In!” I bark. She rolls her eyes and finally steps down. Alcohol makes her bold, it seems, and brings out an attitude that pushes my buttons in all the right ways. Brattiness excites me, but only because pounding obedience into someone is something I excel at.

Alena will learn.

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