Page 8 of Bred By the Bratva

Page List


Font:  

VANNAH

“Is this heaven or hell?” I ask because the burning sensations in my lungs and throat are next-level torture but the feel of the warm body pressing against mine is pure divinity.

“I am dead, aren’t I?” I croak and grab my throat. When I go to move my arm, I nearly pass out with relief that I can at least move my limbs in death.

The warm chuckle that vibrates up my mysterious fantasy man’s chest feeds into me and it’s like all the cells in my body light with renewed fire. Which feels very real. I have my back pressed to a man’s chest as he cradles me in his arms, but my eyes burn too badly from the salt water for me to see clearly.

I blink and press my fingers against them to help soothe the pain. Also very real.

I lean into the warmth at my back and I can’t find the strength or reason to pull myself up.

“Nyet, malyshka,” my savior chuckles warmly as if genuinely amused with me. “You’re not dead, but not for the lack of the ES trying.”

I feel like I weigh a million pounds. I guess having your soul ripped out and shoved back in will do that to a person.

“The ES?” I croak roughly. I keep my back against the man’s chest and my head resting on his shoulder. Another guy is manning the wheel of yet another speedboat and I look on as he cranks up the engine with a rumbling roar.

“East Syndicate,” the sexy sounding Russian confirms, his voice vibrating against my back.

“Fuckers,” I growly harshly. Not that I am well versed in mafia ties and their rivals, but I know almost everyone is the enemy of the East Syndicate. Or vice versa. However it works, my father must have ended up on the shitty end of their stick and I almost became collateral damage.

“How did such a lovely siren such as yourself end up on their shit list?”

“It’s not such a long story.” I try to sit up and get my bearings but the man is not having it and I don’t particularly mind staying where I am at the moment.

“Slow, malyshka. Right now, stay right where you are. First, we should take care of you and then we talk. Never mind my question.” He must be accustomed to his words being law. He keeps me captive, a possessive hand on one hip and another on my opposite thigh.

I find myself agreeing. My muscles and brain are too tired to do anything other than sit here anyway. Truth be told, I could use a little sleep after the adrenaline rush and then the subsequent nose dive into reality with the East Syndicate.

Shame washes through me. Not because of my actions, but those of my father’s and me being stupid enough to think his death meant peace of mind for me.

But at least I have the name of who tried to off me. Not that it does me much good. I don’t think I’ll get anywhere with the cops who are most likely in their pockets.

When big hands caress over my chilled skin and hold me closer as though I’m a gift from the depths my world shifts and I forget about names and police reports. For now. I push thoughts of my father and his actions from my mind and remember I’m the one that’s still alive.

I take a deep breath and then another relishing the simple ability to draw in air again. “You saved me.” My voice is tight with swirling emotions. There are angels in this world after all.

“I pulled you from the bottom of the sea, da.” The steady stroke of a thumb over the gentle ridges of my ribs just beneath my breasts is distracting and oddly soothing. As is the gentle up and down of his chest as he breathes.

Feeling anything right now is nothing short of a freaking miracle so I drink it all in. It’s crazy how the smallest of details seem blown up and ping off my radar.

I almost freaking died. Holy shit.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I draw in another deep breath and this time I get hit with a light masculine scent mixed with salt water. Something smoky orange with an undercurrent of bourbon. It has to be the sexiest combination I’ve ever smelled.

I latch onto that as my brain keeps getting stuck on the fact today was going to be my last day on earth.

Memories of being snatched out of my friend’s sideyard, being drugged, tied to a cement block, and then tossed overboard swarm over me. The trembling starts in my toes and there is nothing I can do to stop the onslaught of fear working its way through my body.

I don’t realize I’m shaking until warm hands move over my body and my mysterious stranger presses me flush as we start to move over the water. “You’re safe. Keep your focus here with me now. Focus on my voice. That’s it. You’re safe now.” As he speaks, I feel the caress of his breath brushing over my ear and the sensation gives me another kind of shiver.

Funny thing is, I feel the truth in his words when I should be questioning everything.

I force my muscles to relax one at a time. My eyelids fall and I rest my cheek on his bare chest. “Today started out being such a pretty day.”


Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic