Page 40 of Captured Solace

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“You have pussy on your mouth,” he observed.

I ran my palm over my mouth, trying not to look at the girl. “Who was the woman I ate out?”

“Some whore Roman brought,” my father said.

“Who’s your woman?” Grigory asked, leaning on the bar.

“She’s my new mistress,” my father said, gazing at the girl. She had pulled her skirt over her thighs and her bodice over her breasts and sat back down in the armchair. She looked nervous. “I broke her in this morning. Fuck, she’s tight.”

A bolt of anger rippled through me. “If you broke her in this morning, she’s probably swollen, not tight,” I said coldly.

“Who the fuck cares? Tight is tight.” My father shrugged and wandered off to sit on the couch by Roman.

My life was changed by that single moment when I’d locked eyes with Yulia. I lost what little taste I had for drugs and prostitutes and I took to longing secretly for her, tortured by how close, yet out of reach she was. I couldn’t love my father’s mistress, it would infuriate him, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

I loved Yulia the moment I met her and it took me over two decades to let her go.

***

I lifted my gaze to meet my wife’s dark, wary eyes. She wasn’t at all like Yulia and I liked that. Yulia had been tall and soft, with full breasts and hips, and a submissive personality. Sienna was slender, barely reaching my shoulder, with little tits that hardly filled the palms of my hands. And she didn’t have a submissive bone in her body.

I liked it, far more than I’d imagined I ever could. I wanted to feel her resistance, to quiet her smart mouth with kisses, and tame her fiery body with my tongue between her thighs. Victory was so much sweeter when I had to fight for it.

“Are you going to talk to me?” she asked, her brows drawing together.

I cleared my throat, wetting my lips with vodka. “Back in Russia, when I was nineteen, I still lived with my father. He was the godfather then and he had a mistress named Yulia.”

Her eyes widened. “You and…your father’s mistress?”

“It wasn’t like that. He got tired of her quickly and I was…obsessed with her. I fell for her because I was young and stupid. She was good and she represented something to me at the time. I…I wasn’t as reserved as I am now and I spent a lot of time sleeping with hookers and I had a little bit of a coke problem. It was easy to get into that lifestyle, everyone else around me was doing it.”

Her brow arched. “When I asked you how many women you’d slept with and you refused to answer—was that because you don’t know?”

I shook my head and leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. “I have a vague idea, but I don’t want to talk about it. Please just let it go, Sienna.”

She huffed, scowling down at her tea. “Fine.”

“Anyway,” I said. “My father lost interest in Yulia and I got close with her. We ended up having a secret affair and she got pregnant. I was trying to convince her to run away with me, but she was too afraid of what my father would do to me. And then he noticed something was going on, he could tell I was interested in her, so he started fucking her again just to spite me.”

“My God,” she whispered.

“He found out she was a few months pregnant and he did the math and realized I was the one who’d gotten her with child,” I said, trying not to wince as I recalled the horrific details. “He had a horrible temper and he always took it out on the weakest people around him. And that was Yulia.”

“What did he do?” Her voice was husky.

I ran my fingertip over the edge of my glass. “He snapped her neck in front of me. She died, along with my child. I had to…pretend I fucking forgave him eventually because I was his son and his heir. But I was so goddamn glad when the Italians shot his face in. It took all I had not to throw a party instead of a funeral.”

When I looked up, she was gazing at me with wide, wet eyes. “I’m sorry. That’s…unimaginable.”

“I tried to fix the organization after that. Got rid of the prostitutes and held my men to a higher standard, but who knows if it really did anything. I know they still fuck around like they used to, they just do it behind my back,” I said slowly. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Can we go out to the porch?”

“How about the garage?”

She nodded and slipped off the stool, padding after me with her tea in hand. I kept my gaze on her as I unlocked the garage door, a strange warmth stirring in my chest. She noticed me looking at her and her dark eyes darted up, glittering above her parted lips. Then a slow blush crept up her face and I bent, brushing a kiss to her mouth. When I drew back, I was struck dumb by the sight of her glittering eyes, feverish with sudden desire.

“Um…let’s go outside,” she whispered. “It’s a little warm in here.”


Tags: Raya Morris Edwards Romance