Page 81 of Of Murder and Matrimony

A sigh escaped my lips as I imagined Dante’s fingers in place of mine, plying my body and making me desperate for more of his touch. My free hand cupped my breast, my thumb brushing across my nipple until it was a hardened peak. I rolled it between my thumb and forefinger, then imagined my husband pulling the turgid bud into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

My pussy clenched, but the tampon wasn’t the same as Dante’s thick cock. I needed him to find me, take me home, and fill me. When I escaped, I wouldn’t leave his side again. Never would I complain about him wanting to watch me or touch me.

I’d even let him fuck me in the ass whenever he wanted. Remembering how full I’d been when he bent me over the desk had me close to my release. I imagined his body pressed against mine, holding me down as he took all my holes and filled me with his come. I strummed my clit harder, biting my lip from the intensity of the sensation.

Fuck, yes. He always felt so good, even if it hurt. I pinched my clit and nipple simultaneously, shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over me. Brokenly, I called out my husband’s name as I lost myself in memories of our shared ecstasy.

“Such a shame to waste that beautiful orgasm on the bastard Italian.”

I shrieked, pulling the covers up to conceal my body, my head swiveling to the now open doorway, where my cousin Ilya filled the frame in his white t-shirt and dark wash jeans. I hadn’t given him a second thought since I left home, but there he stood, smiling lasciviously, practically drooling as his eyes roamed down the covers like he imagined me nude. He’d always been a creep, our distant older cousin who had conveniently moved to the States when I was twelve.

His bald head shone in the light from the hallway as he loomed in the only exit. Not that I’d get far if I tried to run. He chuckled as if he could read my thoughts.

“It’s so good to have you back, Olesya.” His accent grew thicker as he spoke, his words laced with want. “For a while, I thought you may not return.”

“I-I’m married now,” I said weakly, the familiar feelings of being small and helpless in his presence returning in full force.

Ilya shook his head. “Not for long. Your brothers will make sure of it, and I will help them. Soon, you will be free.”

I shivered at how closely his words reflected Adrik’s. He prowled toward me, his muscular frame looming over the bed, his dark eyes beady. He reminded me of Ettore, only I’d never been truly alone with my father-in-law. There was nobody in the apartment to save me from my cousin.

My eyes darted around the room, looking for anything I could use as a weapon, but I saw nothing. Maybe a hanger from the closet. Ilya’s fingers grazed the comforter over my breast, working up to the edge of the cover. My blood ran cold, sweat breaking on my skin as I fought the panic welling up inside me. He looked determined to take what he wanted.

I curled into a ball and moaned, hoping he had the same reservations about womanly issues as my brothers did.

“What’s wrong with you?” he snapped, yanking the covers down and revealing my silk pajamas.

“Cramps,” I gasped, feigning pain. “I’m on my period.”

The sick, twisted shit laughed with glee. I closed my eyes and pulled away, only to be stopped by his vice-like grip on my jaw.

“It’s like fate is making up for you denying me that first blood.” Ilya’s cigarette-tainted breath wafted over my face as he leaned down, breathing in the scent of my shampoo. “I bet I can make it hurt like your first time, too. Watch your blood stain my dick as I tear that pussy apart.”

His knee depressed the edge of the bed as he climbed over me, trapping me. I couldn’t just let it happen. I had to get away. Lashing out, I struck him across the cheek with my fist like Diego had taught me, but he was fast and turned his head to avoid the full impact of my knuckles.

“Fight me more, bitch,” he hissed, gripping my wrist painfully. “It will make breaking you all the sweeter.”

I bucked, but he dropped his weight, pinning my hips under his and grinding his hard dick against me. At least that appendage didn’t feel near as threatening as Dante’s. Still, I’d be damned if he got it inside me.

“Olesya!”

I’d never been so happy to hear Yuri’s voice in my life. Ilya fell off the bed in his haste to get away, only stopping long enough to draw his thumb across his throat threateningly and hold his index finger to his lips to warn me not to speak. Then he darted out of my room, closing the door silently behind him.

I shook as I climbed out of bed and reached for my sweats and sweatshirt to cover myself, then rushed out to the living area and the safety of my brother’s presence.

“There you are.” He smiled, holding two large bags. “Clothes for you.”

“Th-thanks,” I said shakily, barely able to grasp the handles in my trembling hands.

Yuri’s smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I believe I startled her in the hall,” Ilya said smoothly behind my back. He threw his arm over my shoulders in a brotherly hug that lasted only a few seconds before he stepped away, all traces of his insidious intent gone. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to spook you while I waited for Adrik.”

“You remember cousin Ilya, don’t you?” Yuri patted him on the shoulder. “He’s become an information expert since you’ve been gone. Has an entire network of informants across the city.”

Ilya beamed at my brother’s praise, but when Yuri turned and walked to the kitchen, the cold, calculating would-be rapist returned. His posture remained relaxed, but his face twisted as he breathed, “Stay silent, and you’ll live.”

I looked at the floor, my toes curling in the black carpet as Ilya spun and followed Yuri. When I raised my eyes, they were chatting like old friends while pulling out ingredients for sandwiches. My brother’s home was more dangerous than my husband’s.

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