Nikolai
Seeing her passed out brought fear to me unlike anything I’ve ever felt. She’s usually so strong and full of attitude, but seeing her unconscious, so vulnerable, has made the beast within rage. I knew that she’d be a weakness to me, but I had no idea just how weak I’d become. She can bring me to my knees. I know that if anything happens to her, I’d burn the world down to avenge her.
Never. I’ve not once felt this way about anyone.
The thirst for blood at seeing Viktor touch her was nothing compared to when I found out the piece of shit drugged her. The moment she told me I knew what he had planned for her. Seeing the life leave his eyes doesn’t calm the beast that’s inside. I want more blood, more carnage, I want to hurt him even more, but I can’t, he’s already dead. He died too easily.
“Malenkaya, are you okay?” I question, wondering how she’s doing with the drugs coursing through her system.
She nods. “I’m okay.” Her voice soft and filled with uncertainty. I fucking hate this, I want my brat back, the one that’ll stand tall and deny me what’s mine.
“Then, dorogaya, let me take you home,” I say with concern. I want to bring her home, shower her, and take her to bed where I can hold her and know that she’s okay.
“Okay,” she replies gently, acceptance shining in those gorgeous eyes of hers.
I smile at her, hopefully now we can find a path that’ll get us to where I want us to be. Her in my bed every fucking night. Maybe I should tell her the truth about my situation with her mother? She may be more forthcoming.
I lift her into my arms, neither of us caring about the blood that soaks my skin and clothes. I know who she is and what she’s done; death is something we’re both used to.
My men stand tall as I exit my office. I never usually deal with mess here, but this asshole needed to be taught a lesson and I wasn’t going to be too far from Lena.
“Boss?” Ilya says as he gets to his feet.
“Konstantin, take the bastard from my office and burn him,” I snarl as I pull Lena tighter to my body, she’s limp but she’s alert and that’s the main thing. “Ilya, tomorrow morning, I want to find out what he slipped her.”
My right-hand man nods. He knows what I want, he’ll be working on that tonight, knowing him, he’d have the answer within an hour, but I don’t want to be disturbed tonight. “On it, I’ll help Konstantin, we’ll get this done.”
I don’t stand around chatting, I walk past them, needing to get her home where I know that she’ll be safe. She moans in my arms as I jostle her while going down the stairs. I press a kiss against her head in apology.
Once I get to my car, I put her in the passenger’s seat, needing to be able to see her so that I can keep an eye on her. She has her eyes closed and her legs parted. I ignore the way her dress has risen up to her thighs, making her black panties peek out between her legs. I focus on driving instead of my raging hard-on—that fucker has a mind of its own whenever Yelena is concerned.
I’m almost home when I hear a low moan come from Yelena and I tense. This isn’t a moan from pain or suffering—no—this is from pleasure. I should fucking know, I’ve been replaying those little sounds she makes over and over in my mind.
“Malenkaya, what are you doing?” I demand, my voice thick and laced with anger.
She releases yet another moan. “Ummm...“
I glance at her and see that her fingers are playing with her pussy, her dress is pushed up above her hips and her panties discarded. What the actual fuck? “Lena,” I growl. “Take your fingers away from my pussy.”
She releases a sharp gasp. “What?”
I spear her a glance. “Take your fingers out of my pussy, you aren’t allowed to play with it.”
“But—“
My hands tighten round the steering wheel, fighting the urge to pull over and do it myself. “You want to play when we get home, then, malenkaya, I’m more than happy to eat you, fuck you, whatever the fuck you want, but you do not touch what is mine.”
She instantly removes her fingers, her chest heaving as her breaths come out in pants. “Please,” she whines.
My cock is thick and straining against my zipper. “What do you want, malenkaya?”
She releases a low whimper as I pull into the driveway. “You,” she replies confidently.
The moment I put the car in park, she’s out of the car and walking toward the house, her steps a little unsteady. I catch up to her before she reaches the steps, and wrap my arm around her waist. She leans against me, her head on my arm. “I wish you weren’t married to my mother,” she whispers and hearing those words cut me to the quick.
I know that I should tell her the truth, that the marriage is null and void. I had ensured that I had a way out, the actual ceremony wasn’t legal. She isn’t my wife. Never has been and never will be, but Adele has information that I need and until I get it from her, she’ll keep thinking that she’s my wife.
“Come on, malenkaya,” I urge her, hoping to change the subject. “Time for a shower,” I lift her into my arms when she stumbles climbing the stairs.