Page 37 of Brutal Promise

Fuck me, and all that’s holy.

While he runs the water, I sit on the chair at the vanity table. He turns on the jets, and the water swirls. Satisfied that the temperature is perfect, he finally lets me enter the warm pool of bubbles.

He joins me, bringing a washcloth and soap to gently wash my back. I pull my hair into a makeshift bun to keep it from getting wet.

He kisses my neck and whispers, “You’re mine.”

14

IZZY

Dmitry lathers the soap and rubs it over my breasts as if we’re making love and not taking a bath. My nipples respond, and I’m mystified by my body wanting him again already.

He takes his time washing my feet, and oddly, it’s sensual. His hand slips between my legs presses his fingers flat against my triangle and slowly moves up my body. This time, he cups my breasts and gently massages them. I lean back against his chest as desire fires between nerve endings. I spread my legs without him asking, wanting more from him. His attention is intimate and thrilling. He submerges the washcloth into the water and rinses me by dripping warm water over my back. I’ve never experienced subtle arousal before. I want him so badly, but I refuse to beg.

I can’t help but notice his scarred leg. I’m curious about it.

“What happened to your leg? Does it hurt?”

“Yes, when I overuse the muscles. Does it bother you to look at it?”

“No. What happened?”

“There was an attempt on my life during a dispute over territories. My car was hit intentionally and flipped before it burst into flames. I couldn’t get out with the seatbelt stuck, and I had to find my knife to cut myself free. My leg got the worst of it when it caught fire before I could get out. The pain was bad, but the recovery was excruciating.”

“Wow, and you have a brother?”

“Two. Nikolay and my younger brother, Roman.”

“You sound close.”

“We have to be. Our father was recently killed. Nikolay stepped up. We’ve all been groomed to run the business. We all have different skill sets.”

“What’s yours?” I ask, afraid I already know the answer…killing people.

“Kirill and I were part-time enforcers while in college at Princeton. That’s where we met.”

“Wow, Princeton is a school for kids in organized crime?”

“It’s a good school, and it costs money. We don’t have the same notoriety as the Italian American dons in New York who flaunt their extravagant lifestyles. We’re the face of a legitimate business, importing and exporting, mostly liquor.”

“And somewhere in all that, you manage to fit in drugs and guns?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to Russia with you. You can force me into a marriage but can’t force me to live there.”

He’s quiet.

“One thing at a time. First, we get married. Then, we have to find your family before someone else finds you.”

His breath is warm on my neck, and he kisses my shoulder. His tongue moves over my damp skin, and goosebumps cover my arms.

I need to distract myself. If he knows I love what he does to me, I’ll lose all my bargaining power with him for anything. There is too much at stake. I don’t want to leave New York, and I refuse to be dependent on a man.Think, think, think.

Family. What if I have siblings? I’m excited at the thought of having a family for birthdays and holidays. I wonder who they are and if I’ll like them.

“You’re quiet.” His deep voice makes my nipples harden.

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