Page 58 of Kings of Violence

“He is a good man,” I say defensively. Yura is the one person Iknow I can trust with my life. “I didn’t ask what you thought of Yura. I asked what it felt like to have him fuck you over his bike.”

She scowls at me. “And I answered you. It felt good. Then he ruined it. Kind of like you’re ruining this now. I don’t want to talk aboutYura.”

I reach up to grip her chin. “Be careful, Sierrochka. We are having a good time. Don’t make me regret being nice to you.”

Her eyes flash with defiance, but she catches herself before she says — or does — something stupid. “All right. What do you want from me, then? It was hot, all right? The bike, the fuck, all of it. I liked the ride.”

“Yura drove into you—from behind?” I prompt. “Did he come inside you?” I let go of her chin so I can undo my fly.

“Yes,” she says.

I grip her hips tight to bruise her. “What did I just say, Sierrochka? You are not convincing me I should let you leave my domain.”

“Your domain,” Sierra starts to scoff, but she catches herself. She sighs, then looks at me with renewed determination as she rolls her hips against mine. “The bike was… incredible. I’ve never felt like that before. I don’t even know how to describe it. And maybe I teased him a little, maybe I provoked him, so he pulled off into the middle of nowhere. Then he fucked me senseless over the bike until he came.” She pauses, then adds slowly, “In me. He came in me, and it was coming out of me and it made my panties wet.”

I imagine it, how sloppy she would have been, how wide her pussy was stretched. The sheer desperation in Yura. Both of them are beautiful people, and they would have looked amazing, rutting against the bike.

If Yura or Nikolai impregnates her, it wouldn’t even be “my” mess.

I groan and pull her in for a savage kiss, nipping her lips and leaving them bruised and swollen.

She kisses back every bit as ardently, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was enjoying it.

Maybe she is. I can’t tell through the leather pants, but when I reach to unbutton them, my phone rings.

I almost ignore it, except a few seconds later, there’s a knock on the door too.

“Boss?” Boris, one of the men says in Russian. “Boss, Petrov’s lawyer is here, and?—”

Sierra goes still, likely recognizing the name even if she can’t understand anything else of what we’re saying.

I curse loudly, responding in Russian, “Tell him I’m busy.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues, “He says it’s urgent…”

Fuck. I let out a frustrated sound and zip up my pants before getting up, still holding Sierra. She yelps and wraps her arms around me for balance.

I walk us to the door and pull it open, glaring at Boris. “This had better be extremely fucking important,” I growl.

Boris has the decency to look terrified, but he recovers. “It’s about the upcoming trial, and…”

It’s a fucking headache, is what it is. I don’t give a fuck if Petrov ever gets out of prison.

“Business?” Sierra asks, and while she tries to sound casual, she can’t hide her interest. Even though we spoke in Russian, it’s clear it was important.

I slowly lower her to the floor, and she glances from me to Boris.

“Go tell Nikolai he’s accompanying you to your classes tomorrow,” I bark at her, finally switching back to English.

She perks up, then she leans up to kiss me. It’s a quick kiss, nothing like the savage one I’d given her, but she skips a few steps away from me before I can do anything more. “On it.” With one last glance at Boris, who’s regarding her with a stoic expression, she meanders down the hall.

Her ass looks good in those leather pants.

She would look good with a swollen, pregnant belly, too.

THIRTEEN

Sierra

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