Page 19 of Tangled Souls

But she doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.

Either way, she’s mine and I’m not letting her go. I’ll just dothe best I can to be a better man for her.

Her small hands cup my face and her touch grounds me; it’s not enough. Her brown eyes are locked with my dark ones which are probably promising pain and retribution.

“It’s not your fault, Kirill,” her words are meant to be soothing but the fire inside of me continues to burn.

“It is my fucking fault,” I spit the words. “I didn’t want you going to that meeting and then when you do go, which I knew was going to be a problem, someone approached you and threatened you.”

Oaklynn tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching mine. I know what she’ll find there. Devastation. Fear. Confusion. Undying love. Possession.

“I’m not a doll you can put on a shelf, Kirill,” her words are shards of glass which rip against my skin, leaving tatters in their wake. “I won’t allow it. Never fucking again.” She shakes her head, the movement curt and final. “I would have gone to that meeting with or without your permission. Knowing about Mikhail and the threat he poses doesn’t change that I am going to live my life. I wasn’t unprotected; someone was standing at my back, and I was able to handle the situation.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle a situation in the fucking first place,” I roar the words.

Oaklynn doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t cower in fear. She doesn’t even fucking blink.

“Maxim, Huck, and Baker,” she addresses the guys who are watching us closely without dropping my gaze, “you three need to go and talk to that Adam fool. Find out what you need tofind out. Kirill and I will be here when you get home.” She leans forward, her nose touching mine, and commands, “Follow me.”

When she turns and strides out of the room and toward the stairs without looking back the only thing I can do is stand up and follow her. I know if I were to look at the guys then I’d see the smug as fuck looks on their faces. So, I don’t.

I’m about to be put in my place. It’s not something I’m used to. The guys have tried over the years, but with Oaklynn it’s different. She’s the only one who could get away with giving any of us orders the way she just did.

Pride blooms in my chest, leaving warmth in its wake. But it doesn’t touch the fear sliding through my veins.

What if he was more unassuming and hadn’t set off her instincts? What if he hadn’t said a word and just waited for the right moment to grab her? What if anything happened differently?

Every step I take toward her room, the room we’ve all imposed upon since the wedding because it feels like a sanctuary, feels heavy. Even though they’re silent steps, I can feel them reverberate through my body.

When I step through the door it’s to find Oaklynn just finishing unzipping her dress. The fabric slides down her body, caressing her skin as it does. The lace panties and bra she’s wearing are blood red. Violent. Dangerous.

Her eyes are dark and filled with challenge as she looks at me over her shoulder. “You’re going to take what you need; I’ll absorb it all. Then you’re going to let it go. I’m fine and was more than capable of taking care of myself.” When she turns, the way her tits are presented in scraps of red lace is momentarily distracting. Her voice takes on an edge, one as sharp as the knifetucked away in her purse, “Unless you don’t believe I’m capable of standing beside you? Maybe you don’t think I’m strong enough?”

“No,” I bark, “you are strong enough. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I don’t doubt your abilities to take care of yourself,” my tone is harsh even though my words are meant to be soft, they feel soft in my heart.

“Really?” She reaches behind her back and unclips her bra, the lace slipping away and falling in a heap at her feet. Next, she slips from her shoes without looking away from me. When she slides her panties down over her hips and allows them to drop, my mouth starts to water. “Love is not always responsibility; it isn’t always penance. More often than not, it’s trust. Do you trust me, Kirill?”

“I trust you,Solnishko,” the words are coarse and broken.

“But you’re angry. You feel like you failed me,” it’s not a question, it’s a statement of fact.

“I did.”

Her brown eyes narrow. “No,” the word lands like a bomb between us.

And then I can’t stay still. I close the distance between us in two steps, my hands gripping her body far too tightly. She doesn’t complain.

No, her eyes flare with something like triumph, a victory she revels in.

“Hands and knees,” I command, the words dark and smokey.

The tendrils of the demand wrap around our woman, but she welcomes it. With a smirk, she turns and does my bidding.

I practically rip the clothes from my body, hardly able to wait and needing to show our woman exactly who owns her. Needing to claim her. Again.

No matter how many times I do, I have a feeling it’ll never be enough.

My cock is throbbing by the time I’m standing naked behind her. She doesn’t look at me over her shoulder, she keeps her eyes forward, but she wiggles her ass in invitation.

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