Page 29 of Twisted Obsession
His hand snaked between our entwined bodies, fingers finding my most sensitive spot, circling and caressing with expert precision. The added stimulation was more than I could bear. My breath hitched, coming in harsh, ragged gasps as my back arched off the table, the pleasure building with each powerful, deep thrust.
“I knew mykukolkawould love my cock,” he growled, his voice a low, primal rumble. “Come for me.”
I wanted to resist, to deny him, to deny what my body craved, but his dominance was overwhelming. His other hand wrapped around my throat, fingers pressing lightly into my flesh.
He didn’t squeeze, didn’t need to. The mere threat, the knowledge that he controlled the very air I breathed, was intoxicating. It was a horrifying, arousing echo of the belt, how he’d choked me with his cock. He was the Bratva, a monster, a killer, and I was just his captive, a plaything for his dark desires.
An orgasm ripped through me, a storm of sensation that left me lightheaded and euphoric. I hated him for it, but mostly I hated myself. He thrust into me several more times, his body tensing, his jaw clenching as he threw his head back, swallowing his own scream of pleasure.
For a moment, he collapsed on top of me, his weight a strangely comforting pressure. But it was short-lived.
As if despising that moment of vulnerability, he pulled back, unwinding my legs from around his waist and steppingback. Placing his hands on my knees, he spread my legs wide. I gasped as he impaled me with two of his fingers, drawing them out to reveal the crimson blood coating them. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean of my virginal blood.
With a sharp cry escaping my lips, I hastily backed away from him, sliding off the polished wood table. My arms instinctively wrapped around my exposed body, desperately trying to cover myself with the tattered remnants of my dress.
Unbuttoning his crisp shirt with deliberate movements, he slid it off his broad shoulders and extended it toward me. “Here, put this on,” he offered.
Instead of arguing, all I could do was stare at his chest and the intricate detail of the tattoos along his chest and over his shoulder. And then down one arm. How could a man so monstrous be so beautiful at the same time?
I shed my ruined dress and slipped into Dmitri’s shirt. His distinctive, spicy scent enveloped me, a reminder of his presence, as I threaded my arms through the sleeves. Foregoing the effort to button it, I wrapped the fabric tightly around myself, seeking some semblance of dignity.
As I prepared to leave, Dmitri’s firm grip encircled my arm, halting my escape. “Don’t defy me again,” he warned, his voice tinged with a strange mix of regret and authority as he kissed the back of my head. “It pains me to hurt you.”
Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, I glanced over my shoulder, offering only a silent nod. He might have claimed my virginity, but he would never possess my love. Ivowed never to give him the heir he so desperately desired. I refused to bring another monster into this world.
Chapter Fifteen
Dmitri
Iwatched Lara brokenly exit the dining room, no longer the innocent girl she once was, but now a tainted woman who would soon carry my child. Her presence lingered like a reminder of what I had done, and though every fiber of my being urged me to follow her, a pressing matter demanded my attention. With a sigh, I carefully tucked my semi-erect cock back into my tailored trousers and departed the dining room, the rich wood panels echoing underfoot as I made my way back to the dimly lit study. Earlier, intruders breached the mansion—sending a clear warning message. Despite our inability to capture any of them before they vanished into the night, I was certain of the sender’s identity.
My thoughts drifted back to my sixteenth birthday; a pivotal moment shared with four men who were more than just friends. They were my brothers in arms. Together, we had forged an unbreakable bond, vowing to stand by each other regardlessof the circumstances life might throw our way. We called ourselves theKrasnyye Rytsari, the Red Knights. A decade had passed since my father discovered our clandestine alliance. He had dismissed it as the folly of boys too naïve to understand the world of men.“What did I know at twenty-two?”he would often remark with disdain.
There was much my father never understood about theKrasnyye Rytsari. We operated under a strict code of honor, shaped by his own teachings on the art of killing. Despite his demands to sever ties and speak of them no more, we continued our mission, clandestinely cleansing the streets of New York City of its filth.
Now, the time had come to end this prolonged conflict with the Cosa Nostra and cement my dominion over the Eastern territories once and for all. With don Balestrini’s daughter in my grasp, I possessed the leverage needed to lure him into the open. Perhaps, in doing so, I might also draw out Andrei Zhukov.
With a deliberate motion, I retrieved my cell phone from the pocket of my pants, the smooth surface cool against my palm. Quickly, I typed out a message, setting into motion the next phase of my plan.
ME: BROTHERS AT ARMS. THE TIME HAS COME TO REUNITE. DANGER IS AGAIN UPON US. YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO.
ALEXEI:Yes, Sire.
MAXIM:Yes, Sire.
ISAAK:Yes, Sire.
NAZAR:Yes, Sire.
They responded immediately, unwavering in their response. There was no hint of hesitation, as if their very essence was attuned to the urgency of the text. It was as it should be: a testament to our unbreakable bond.
My thoughts drifted back to the day following my eighteenth birthday, a day etched in my memory with the sharpness of a blade. It was the day we extinguished the life of Carmine Balestrini. I had believed, naively perhaps, that by eliminating Giovanni’s sole heir, the threat to our family would dissipate like smoke in the wind. I was mistaken. The assault on the mansion was undeniable evidence of my misjudgment. But why now? The timing was perplexing. He couldn’t possibly know about Larissa being held captive, unless, of course, he had been watching her every move, like a predator lurking in the shadows.
Truth be told, I wasn’t even entirely sure that it was the Cosa Nostra who had stormed the mansion, other than the crest tattoo on the ones who hadn’t gotten away, which could mean anything. It was a deduction, driven by the relentless war that had raged between us for as long as I could recall. Perhaps this meeting with my brothers would illuminate the murky path before me, providing the clarity I so desperately needed. I had to unmask the faceless enemy who was determined to turn my life into a living nightmare.
~***~
It was 2:00 a.m., the dead of night, and I found myself standing alone, the chill of the early morning air biting at my skin as I waited for the others to arrive. It had been a significant stretch of time since we last gathered in this place, yet nothing seemed to have altered. The only noticeable change wasthat the once barren patch of earth behind the old, weathered church was now a vibrant sea of wildflowers. These blossoms served as a colorful shroud over the resting place of the eight Balestrini heirs, their roots delving deep into the sanctified soil. The room where we convened for our clandestine meetings retained its familiar aura, dominated by the imposing, heavy round table and the five high-backed leather chairs that seemed plucked from a king’s court. The sconces, suspended high on the ancient stone walls, cast flickering shadows, giving the space a medieval ambiance, a constant reminder of the legacy and power symbolized by the Red Knight.
