Page 68 of Savage Reign

My hips rock forward, and a whimper of need escapes my lips as my fingers slip inside my channel. I’m still a little tender from where the smooth ivory penetrated me, but it’s a good sore—the kind that heightens sensation.

I work my fingers deeper, my thumb brushing my clit. I bite down on my lip, suppressing a cry as I replay everything that happened earlier. The feel of the blade’s handle, the forbidden edge of what he did—it should have scared me, but it didn’t. It thrilled me.

I always thought I was vanilla, boring even, but Nikolai makes me want things I never knew existed. Things I should hate. A shudder wracks my body, my hips grinding into my hand until I’m lost to the crashing waves of pleasure.

When it’s over, I lean back against the wall, my chest heaving and my head spinning.

I hate that I let him consume me like this. More than that, I hate how much I want him to do it again.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

NIKOLAI

I’ve donemany fucked-up things in my life. I’ve spilled blood, betrayed loyalties, and killed my own brother without a shred of regret. But somehow, using Sofiya like I did weighs on me like a sin I’ll never be rid of.

After the basement, I sent Roman the pictures of her, the knife grazing the delicate skin of her throat, the curated terror etched into her features. Such a perfect lie. They’ll light a fire under the Syndicate’s ass as Igor said they would, but it comes at a cost.

I’ve been holed up in my office all day, haunted by the memory of how fucking good Sofiya tastes, how beautifully she came apart for me despite herself.

But when she looks at me like I’m breaking her, it feels like she’s breaking me, too.

My phone buzzes, and Roman’s name flashes across my screen. Fuck me. I knew this call was coming, but for some reason, I was dreading what he might say. The deal he might offer.

“Roman. Just the man I was looking forward to hearing from,” I lie.

“You sick fuck,” he growls, his tone deadly. “Do you think this is a fucking game? Do you know what I’m going to do to you the first chance I get?”

“Nothing because I have the power here. Now get to the point of this call because I have shit to do.”

He huffs out a harsh breath. “This needs to end now. We are ready to make a deal.”

The satisfaction I expected to feel at this moment is nowhere to be found. Instead, my pulse hammers, and something uneasy twists in my gut. I know where he’s headed with this.

“The Syndicate will allow you to open a casino on our territory, but only on the condition that you give Sofiya back, grant her a divorce, annul the marriage—whatever it takes to erase your claim on her. Never fucking think of her again, never even say her name. She’ll be dead to you.”

I go still, my fingers digging into the leather of my chair. He’s agreeing to my terms. It’s what I wanted—except it’s not what I want at all.

My eyes track to the clock on the wall, the same one Sofiya used to count the seconds to her orgasm. I’m in the room where I inked her ring finger. I know what I’m supposed to do, but the thought of losing her feels like losing the last shred of my soul.

“No.”

There’s silence on the other end. Angry silence.

“What the fuck do you mean, no?”

“I need a guarantee that you’ll follow through. Words aren’t enough. I won’t give up Sofiya until I know you won’t renege on the deal the second I hand her over.”

“Are you fucking serious? I’m a man of my word. You’re the one who’s the goddamn traitor.”

“Forgive me if trust isn’t my strong suit. Call me when you’ve got proof you won’t stab me in the back.”

“Fu—”

I end the call and whip my phone at the wall, disgusted with myself.

Sofiya was never supposed to be my wife, never supposed to be mine forever. But she’s etched into me like a brand, a fire that refuses to die, and until it does, I won’t give her back.

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