Page 18 of Bred To Be Owned

Time seemed to pass slowly as I stood as still as a statue, but eventually, the Russian fell back against the bed. His hands pulled at my hips, so that I didn’t have a choice but to move with him. I wouldn’t normally bend for a man, but in this instance, I let him take the lead. My lack of experience hindered me. I didn’t want to break the silence, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. He must haveunderstood my hesitation because he picked me up by my hips and placed me where he wanted. My knees bracketed his head.

The only sounds in the room were the Russian’s low groans, which seemed to echo when he finally pulled me against his face. It was a new sensation, and I wasn’t able to stop the anxious tremors that coursed through my body. I tried to stare at the moon again, but where it had calmed me before, the open curtains reminded me someone could be watching. The far wall was blank, and I found it comforting to gaze at. It dulled the screams that were coming from the dark recesses of my mind. If this was the only time I would get to be with him, then I wanted to enjoy every minute we had.

I felt his nose part me, pawing at my clit. Each swipe sent shockwaves through my system. Every so often, I could hear a whimper in the room, not cognizant enough to notice they were coming from me until his tongue swiped at my inner walls. I threw my head back, letting loose a long wail.

I didn’t think he’d die between my legs, but I wasn’t comfortable trying to explore. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements for fear that he would stop. He must have understood my apprehension because he patted my thighs and then ran his hands north to my hips. He rubbed the skin there in a soft caress before guiding me in a rocking motion. My moans became incessantly louder when his tongue made broad stokes against my clit.

My body was on fire, blazing trails running over my arms, my legs, and my chest. My nipples pebbled from the sheer wantonness. I wanted more, but I didn’t know how to ask for it. The Russian knew. He gave my hips one last squeeze and then let his hands roam back to my thighs, down to where my hands lay limply at my sides. Intertwining our fingers, he brought mine up to the top of his head, burrowing them into the silky strands of hair.

His hands didn’t stop tracing my arms until he reached my shoulders. They lingered over my collarbones and tiptoed down my chest until they landed at the tops of my breasts. His caresses made me ache for more. Pulling at the strands of his hair, I hoped he would get the message. There was a dark chuckle between my legs before he suckled my clit, squeezing each breast in one of his hands before he flicked my nipples with his thumbs. He never stopped, nor did he slow down. It was the best kind of misery.

Eventually, it became too much. I closed my eyes. Light bounced behind my eyelids like shooting stars as I succumbed to an explosive orgasm. My knees shook on the bed, and there was a light sheen of sweat on my body. I gripped his hair tightly, trying to ground myself in him.

I thought for sure he’d flip me to the bed, taking what he wanted. I would give him everything. He only had to ask. As I was coming down from my high, I could feel his tongue lap again at the wetness that had formed. He barely let me catch my breath before I was squirming again for another release. This time, I was better prepared.

I experimented with different ways of shifting my hips against his mouth. If I rocked back, he’d play with my clit. If I rocked forward, he’d lap at my walls. It must have been the sexual awakening, but I was becoming territorial over him. I didn’t want him to leave.

Not caring about his sexual history, I wanted him to be my first. To enter me and claim me as his. I didn’t want him pleasuring another woman, and I for sure didn’t want to think that it could be my sister. He’d never force himself upon her, but in my delusion, she was my competition for his affection.

I shifted my weight a little and grabbed the back of his head from between my legs. Giving his hair a good yank, I wanted him to know that I was a willing participant. I rode his tongue until I could barelyhold myself up. My limbs felt like jelly, and this time, he lowered me to the bed, laying across the duvet cover.

I was good at hiding my emotions, but as I stared into his eyes, I let him see everything. How I felt. How I’d give away everything, including my status, to just be with him.

Breaking our stare, he kissed my forehead, his lips lingering before he left the room.

No words exchanged.

I was in shock. It was if nothing had happened. As if I meant nothing to him.

I hadn’t cried since I was a child. The rules dictated we show no weakness, but as I laid on the bed, my sobs filled the empty room. The tears ran down my cheeks as they pooled on the duvet. I silently screamed in pain as I lay in the wet puddles.

I could no longer deny I had feelings for the Russian. In the early of hours of the morning, I tried to gather those emotions and enshrine them in a tomb. Sealing the door, I knew those feelings could never see the light of day. I’d never survive if anyone found out how I felt about my sister’s husband.

Chapter 11

Ilya, The Russian

I heard her gasping for breath as the hotel door latched behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, wounding me as I listened to every sob. It took every ounce of strength I had to walk away. Each step away from that door felt like a bullet piercing my heart. Right foot, fire. When I reached the elevator, I wanted to turn around and run back to her. I’d silently gather her in my arms and beg for forgiveness. This was the deal we’d agreed upon. I told myself I was only following her wishes. Adrik had been right: this was all a clusterfuck.

I approached the bridal suite and breathed a slight sigh of relief that Sergio wasn’t waiting for me. I wasn’t fooling anyone with how attentive I had been to my new wife. This had been a sham wedding, and the marriage wouldn’t be any better. I had promised to protect Irini, and I wouldn’t let her suffer. However, I was banking on her not surviving the next five years. It sounded cruel, but the truth usually was. I wasn’t a good man. Trapping my malenkaya lisichka was theonly way to keep her from slipping through my fingers, and she’d agreed to it, knowing full well what lay ahead.

Sliding my door key into the card reader, I waited until the light turned green. The lock slid open, and I walked into the living room, stripping off the tuxedo coat. I didn’t mind wearing a suit, but the coat was too restrictive after what had just happened. Laying it on the chair, I pushed my shirt sleeves up to my elbows, before heading straight for the bar. I poured myself a bourbon, needing to chase away the taste of the woman I wanted before checking on my wife.

My mother hadn’t been capable of taking care of two children, and my father had been Bratva. His life had been more committed to the cause than it had been to his family. Adrik had provided for me, made sure we ate and that I was clean. He’d given me a sense of safety in an uncertain world, and I wanted to provide that for Irini. I stressed she was safe every chance I could, whether that was vocal or in the stability I offered her.

I wasn’t sure if my reinforcements had penetrated the fog, but I didn’t want her scared to be around me. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, it must have worked, because when I had introduced her to the nurse, she hadn’t fought me. I didn’t want Irini to be alone during the days, so I had hired an assistant to keep her company, and a nurse to watch over her at night. Irini had spent a lot of time alone in her sanctuary, and I wanted to help her get used to the idea of having someone around. The night nurse had left after putting her to bed.

Checking on her now, I wanted to make sure she was alright. I opened her bedroom door and watched as her body shook with every breath. There was a low whimper every now and again, and it made my heart hurt for her. She didn’t have any peace, even in sleep.

“You’re alright,” I whispered to her from the door. I wouldn’t enter her personal space for fear that she’d wake. “I won’tlet anything happen to you. This I promise.” I didn’t want her to catch my shadow in the doorway, so I slowly backed away and closed the bedroom door.

As I approached the living room again, there was a knock on the hotel door.

Setting my drink down on the table, I grabbed the gun from my shoulder holster. Making sure that I stood away from the peephole, I didn’t bother to check it. An enemy would have no problem shooting out an eye through one, and I wasn’t taking the risk. I had slid the door chain in place when I’d first entered the room, and now I cracked the door open. I’d be able to see a gun if someone tried to shoot. They wouldn’t hit me, and it would give me time to slam their hand in the door.

“Tattoo time, boss.” I wouldn’t escape my crime.

I slid the gun back into place and unlocked the door chain before letting him in. Grabbing my drink, I took off my shoulder holster, leaving it on the chair with my tuxedo coat.

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