Page 7 of Corrupted Guilt

Wanthim.

I try to roll my hips as a nonverbal cue, but they can’t budge under his weight. My voice comes out just as ragged as his, “I won’t say it. Just finish what you started.”

Still, he waits, and I think he’s going to make me beg for it. But then he grips my hip and shoves deep. I moan, I can’t help it. I arch my back towards him, trying to get him deeper.

He keeps his grip on my hips as he rams his cock inside, and I let out a yelp, gripped him tight with my legs.

It was such a beautiful fuck. Deep and angry.

“Take me,” I whispered. “Please, take me…” He breathed against my mouth, hard and deep, his forehead pressed to mine. “All of me…” I spoke. “Please…” I held his face, and he let go of my jaw.

His eyes softened. Just a little. Just enough.

I wriggled under him, and he pulled his cock out, I was so tender I sucked in breath, but I was smiling.

“Yes!” I hissed. “Fuck me! Now!” I said. “Oh God, Yuri, fuck me!”

He groaned in my ear, a guttural noise that sounded like a primitive battle cry.

Jesus, how he fucked me.

Jesus, how I wanted it.

I didn’t care. Not about any of it.

Yuri took me so hard my eyes watered. It felt good enough that I screamed.

“Don’t stop!” I hissed. “Whatever you do, don’t fucking stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop, Yuri!”

“I’m not going to stop,” he barked. “Until you fucking beg,” and pushed his cock in to the hilt. He keeps thrusting, both of us making guttural, animal-like sounds, until finally, he pulls out of me and his come, hot and thick lands across my stomach and upper thighs.

I can do nothing but lie there and remember how to breathe. I look up at the willow tree branches and realize how far under it we are. I look up and the trunk is right there, so close I can reach out and touch it.

Yuri is watching me, bemused, “Touch it or don’t, who cares. My plans are spoiled with you here, like I told you. I’m telling him to send you away, just as you wanted.”

3. Yuri

If Viktor Kolesova knew what I had just done to his daughter, he might kill me.

If he knew what I had planned – before I had to call it off – he would kill me.

I’m not concerned. He doesn’t know anything in this Bratva without me telling him and I’m not telling him shit. Neither are Anton and Max, the other Vors who report to me. They had been ready for my plan and now needed an explanation for why I called it off. I didn’t want to tell them it was for Katya. That I didn’t want to do it with her still around. That she’s suffered enough.

I had to see the Boss and get him to change his mind on Katya. But first I had to see Anton and Max and tell them something. Give them some explanation. Or not. Fuck them, I’m the boss, I don’t need to explain myself to anybody.

Katya surprised me. To be honest, I’m not sure what I think of her now.

She has some spirit and some fight to her.

Finally, but probably too late.

Katya had been overlooked or ignored her whole life by her father. Her brother Dmitry was the golden child, the son, the first-born, the heir to the Kolesova Bratva. He had been groomed since he could talk to command, and to lead. Katya was just a spoiled princess, nothing was asked of her, nothing required except to be pretty and happy.

The happy went away with Dmitry and Viktor went from ignoring his daughter to suffocating her – he didn’t want Katya out of his sight. He didn’t want her to go away to college. He wanted her where he could keep a close eye on her. He wanted this pretty, happy thing locked up with him, to sing for him and amuse him, but she was no longer happy and no longer sang for him.

I’m no better really, at least where it concerns her. I want her to make pretty noises for me too. But I’ll let her leave, I’ll give her some of that freedom she thinks she wants. I have a feeling she won’t take to it the way she thinks. Giving her some answers on Dmitry would help far more – I’m certain she never grieved for him, she just went on. But I had been looking into Dmitry’s death for four years and was no closer to finding out who was responsible.

Anton looks up to see me and smiles, “We saw that little midnight run in the backyard of yours. Get it out of your system?”

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