We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Sasha: Chapter 43

BRANKA

We arrived in Louisiana, city unknown, in the middle of the night. The only reason I knew we were in Louisiana was because I saw the sign when we crossed the state line.

Sasha drove like a madman, violating speeding limits and many other traffic laws while I hung on to him for dear life. He loved motorcycles. After all these miles on the back of one, I wasn’t quite sure it was my thing.

I had come to the conclusion that Sasha was relentless when he had a goal in mind. And his goal was to get to Louisiana as soon as possible. I assumed he wouldn’t get caught by my brother. Alessio might be out of the underworld, but he wouldn’t hesitate to use the ruthlessness he grew up with to keep me safe.

The worst part was that this pale eyed devil was peeling all the layers off, leaving me standing naked in front of him. Figuratively and literally.

Nobody had ever seen all these sides of me. I was always careful to hide them. To keep my brother. To keep my best friend.

I didn’t want them to think I was anything like my father.

Vengeful. Bloodthirsty. Evil.

Yet, this man saw me. Somehow he knew me.

Don’t hide from me, and I won’t hide from you. His words played on repeat in my mind, resonating in my soul.

But fear was a bitch. Anger was an even bigger one.


I woke up with an ache in my neck, curled up on the window seat. I couldn’t remember how I got here.

Blinking sleep away, I shifted on the little window seat. It took me a moment to remember. I wasn’t home. I wasn’t in a hotel room nor on a honeymoon. I was stuck in some nightmare with a crazy Nikolaev. An unhinged mobster.

How in the fuck did I get so lucky?

The dawn flickered over the horizon but it was still dark. Slightly disoriented, I blinked and then pushed my hair out of my face. At least I wasn’t tied up.

The heavy silence filled the air. No movements. No voices. Nothing.

I almost expected Sasha to sleep in the same room as me, but he wasn’t here. The bed was empty. Just for good measure, I stood up and glanced under the bed. It was stupid but you never knew with that maniac.

I slowly opened the drawer. It was fully stocked. I grabbed a red dress, with off-the-shoulder straps. Once dressed, I grabbed my boots since I couldn’t find any other shoes. I didn’t slip them on. It would be easier to remain quiet if I was barefoot. I slipped out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway. The place was nice. Elegant, yet comfortably decorated. Paintings hung on the walls, but I couldn’t distinguish them in the dark.

My steps were soundless against the plush rug. Every few steps, I’d pause and listen. Still nothing. So I’d resume walking, my goal getting to the front door. Last night when we arrived, I made sure to pay attention to my surroundings.

I wouldn’t be one of those girls that would sit and wait for someone to rescue me. No fucking way. I’d save myself, thank you very much.

God must have been laughing though because I was barely ten steps down the hallway when a hand wrapped around my neck, pushing me against the wall. A breath escaped me, my lungs squeezing with fear. Or excitement, I was unsure.

“Where do you think you’re going, kotyonok?” he mocked, darkly amused. As if he was impressed with my attempt.

“Morning stroll,” I breathed.

Pale blue eyes clashed with mine, sucking all of the oxygen out of the room. If I wasn’t careful, this man would pull me into his psychotic darkness and then let me drown. He was too intense. It was too easy to fall for his charms. I almost snorted at the thought of Sasha being charming.

Whatever the hell it was, I was under his spell. Like the eye of the hurricane, he was sucking me into a whirlwind of emotions.

“Liar.” His expression turned dark. His grip on my throat tightened slightly and the throbbing in my core intensified. “Always so fucking adamant about leaving. Why? Because you want to return him.

We both knew who him was. Sasha Nikolaev either hated Killian or was crazy jealous of him. Probably both.

“I am supposed to be married to him,” I retorted dryly. But it was just then that it dawned on me. I hadn’t thought about Killian once since Sasha kidnapped me.

That was… concerning.

Sasha’s knee came between my legs, the friction of his hard muscle against my core sending a thrum through every single cell of my body. Without permission, my body ground against his thigh. My senses were so heightened that I felt lightheaded as my heart drummed hard against my ribs.

My fingers curled against his shoulders, clawing at his t-shirt. “Want to get off?” he rasped, his hot breath against my ear. His thumb brushed against my pulse, then he pressed against it.

Arctic storms brewed in his eyes. But raw desire lurked in them too. His mouth latched on to my neck and bit. Hard.

I should fight him. Tell him to fuck off. Instead a moan slipped through my lips. Pleasure buzzed on my skin and swam through my veins. Sasha’s eyes found mine. They were somehow darker now. A darker shade of blue. I had never seen a storm in the arctic, but I imagined it’d look like his eyes.

“One of these days, I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he growled.

A shudder rolled down my spine at his words. His hand slid down to my breast, then down to my hip. He bunched the skirt of my dress up around my waist. “How many times?”

I blinked in confusion. My thoughts were incoherent, my brain in shambles.

“W-what?”

“How many times did he touch you?” he grunted, his finger rubbing my clit. “How many times did he have you?”

He just couldn’t let that go. Obsessive, psychotic bastard.

I should slap him. Push him away. I didn’t. All those days of bringing me to the brink of an orgasm, only to pull it away. It made me a desperate woman.

So I ignored his question and closed my eyes. “The thought of him touching you drives me insane. It makes me see red.” He tugged me by the neck and bent his head down until his lips brushed against mine. “Tell me how many times,” he repeated and I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. My reflection stared back at me. Savage. Consuming. “You have no idea how much I want to go find him and break every bone in his body. Then I’ll cut his cock off for touching what’s mine.”

In one move, he yanked my panties and the shredding sound filled the hallway. He thrust two fingers inside me. A whimper tore from my throat and my body bucked against him.

“That’s right, kotyonok. I can feel your cunt clenching around my fingers.” I dripped all over his fingers, rocking my hips against his hand. “Your pussy knows who owns it. Nobody will ever touch it again.” A whimper ripped from my throat. “This is my pussy.” Thrust. “My property.” Thrust. “You’re mine.”

My core pulsed, the throbbing need burning through my blood. I was so close, the orgasm at my grasp. But just when I was about to come, he pulled out his fingers and my eyes widened.

A frustrated breath left me and echoed through the air.

“You don’t get to cum after trying to leave me,” he grunted.

“You bastard,” I hissed. My fingers curled into fists and I started banging on his chest. “You fucking bastard.”

Scooping me up, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me back to my bedroom. He threw me onto my back and my body bounced on the bed.

He straddled my hips, and I tried to buck him off. This fucking monster was just taunting me. Playing with me. He grabbed my wrists and slammed them above my head. I kept bucking, but he was so heavy. I twisted my head and sank my teeth into his forearm.

“Careful, kotyonok,” he threatened, his voice dark. “Keep that up and you won’t like what comes next.”

I stilled. His body on mine felt so good, like a heavy comforting blanket. And all he kept doing was tormenting me.

Turning my head to the side, I stared stubbornly at the spot on the wall as he bound my wrists and secured it to the headboard.

He ran his lips down my throat. “If you ask me nicely, I’ll make you cum.” My lips pressed into a thin line. “Just say please.”

“Fuck off,” I spat. “Please.”

He left the room, his dark laugh ringing in my ears long after he was gone.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset