Page 82 of Craving Dahlia

Someone shouts. There’s a scream, and more gunshots. I start to bolt for the stairs, the glass of water in my hand dropping as my fingers go nerveless, and it shatters on the floor next tome, soaking my feet as I start to run at the same moment that I hear the front and back doors slam open.

“Mrs. Yashkov, get upstairs!” a voice yells, and I almost laugh, because that’s what I’m already doing. A sharp slicing pain stabs through my foot, and I realize that I must have stepped on a piece of glass.

I rush through the living room all the same, more gunshots filling the air as I hear the security behind me. “Follow her upstairs!” I hear someone yell, just as there’s the sound of a breaking window, and I hear someone cry out in pain. “Get enough men up there to defend her! They’re coming from three sides!”

I turn, that fear freezing me from the inside out as I see men in dark clothing rushing towards the house. I can’t entirely tell the difference between my guards and who is attacking us, and I see the bright flashes of gunfire outside as I force myself back towards the stairs, my foot slipping in the blood dripping from the cut on it.

“Mrs. Yashkov, let’s go!” Someone grabs my arm, and I scream, yanking it away. The man grabs both of my arms, shaking me. “I’m one of yours,” he snaps, guiding me back towards the stairs. “Let’s go!”

I hear more gunshots—and then the roar of a car engine, lights flooding the driveway as I see two SUVs careen into the driveway.

Please, oh god, let it be Alek?—

There’s more crashing from the kitchen, and I hear shots as three men in all black with the lower parts of their faces covered rush towards me and the guard next to me. At the same moment, the front door slams open, and I see Alek bolt in with two other men, Dimtri and Vik on his heels.

“Dahlia!” He shouts my name, running for me, and I see him fire his gun as he does, dropping two of the men rushing towardsus as he grabs my arm and starts to bring me up the stairs with him. I stumble and he looks down, seeing the blood.

“Fuck.” He swings me up into his arms, holding me against his chest as he twists around and fires again. Everything is a blur, and I cling to him as we race up the stairs towards the bedroom, the sound of boots on the floor and gunshots and the shouts and curses of men shooting and dying fill the air.

“Alek!” I gasp his name as he sets me down, turning to look at me.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a rush, and I nod, swallowing hard. “There’s blood, Dahlia?—”

“I just cut my foot. I’m okay.” I back up towards the bed, too overwhelmed to even feel the pain in my foot any longer. “Go help Dimitri?—”

“I’m not leaving you,” he growls, cutting me off. “Not for a fucking second.” He reloads his gun, and I hold my hand out as I see another beneath the side of his jacket.

“Give me one.”

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What?”

“I know how to shoot. Give me one. I don’t want to be helpless.” I hold out my hand, and he stares at me for a long moment before sliding the gun beneath his jacket free and handing it to me.

Remembering what I was taught, I check the chamber and the safety as we hear another rattle of gunfire, and the heavy sounds of boots on the stairs. Alek is looking at me as if he’s never seen me before, but I don’t have time to think about it. The door to the bedroom slams open, and two men come straight for me as the others flood in and go for Alek.

I hear more shots from the stairs, and I know Dimitri’s men are on their way up, but there’s no time to think about it. I’ve never imagined really shooting a man before, never thought for asecond that I’d really have to, but as the man in front rushes me, I raise the gun and pull the trigger, again and again.

He drops in front of me, hitting the floor with a sound I’ll never forget, a gurgle rattling in the back of his throat. I fire at the next one, missing the bullet going through the wall behind him. The man lunges for me, and I strike out at him with the gun instead, smashing it into the side of his head as I duck to one side. Alek spins, firing at the man, and he goes down on his face, blood spattering the wall. In the moment that he turns, I see another man aim at him, and I fire on instinct, winging him and sending him veering away as Alek turns back and finishes him off.

I smell blood and fear and I hear shouting still, my ears ringing from the gunshots, my eyes blurry, my heart racing. It takes me a minute to realize that the shouting from downstairs has faded, that the bodies on the floor aren’t being joined by anyone else, that I don’t hear gunshots. Not until Alek lunges towards me, kicking the door closed as he reaches for me and pulls me into his arms.

His hands smooth over my hair, and I see blood on them, on his face, on his clothes. I probably look the same, but neither of us cares. He stares at me, searching my face, his hands pressed against my cheeks.

“You’re okay?” he asks breathlessly. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. I?—”

His mouth crashes against mine. Adrenaline surges in me, and I stagger back against the weight of his body, stumbling into the wall. Alek lifts me, my legs wrapping around his hips as his mouth devours mine, groaning aloud as his hand fists in my hair and the other fits between us, frantically undoing the front of his jeans.

“I need you,” he pants, his mouth never fully leaving mind for even a second. “Fuck, Dahlia?—”

“I need you too,” I moan against his lips, arching against him. I don’t care that we’re both covered in blood, battered, surrounded by death—if nothing else, I need himmorebecause of it. We’re alive, and I want to feel that, want him inside of me, want to remember that he’s mine and I’m his. That everything that kept us apart has been destroyed now, and all there is is what’s still to come.

He pushes my shorts to one side, his swollen tip shoving between my folds, and his hips snap up, thrusting his thick length into me in one long, hard jolt. I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as Alek presses his lips to my throat, my collarbone, pinning me there as he fucks me hard and fast, groaning my name against my skin. I feel his hand slip under my shorts, wedged between us, feverishly rubbing my clit as he thrusts, and I know it won’t take long for either of us.

“Oh god, Alek—” I moan his name and he sucks at my throat harder, his hips slamming me against the wall. “Fuck, I’m going to?—”

“Come for me,zhena. Wife. Fucking come for me,” he snarls, and his mouth covers mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me again. He feels so fucking good, filling me completely, and everything else fades away in this moment. Everything except for him.

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