Chapter 17

Daelyn

When Dmitri lowers himself into the tub, I have this strange urge to hold him between my legs and cage him in false safety. Because, let’s face it, I can’t do shit to save him. I’m here to fuck him. I’m a liar and a trickster and bad, bad person.

But with D, in this moment, I’m just a woman who’s found solace in the arms of a monster I’m quickly adapting to. I blame my past. If I didn’t adjust fast to my surroundings, I always feared there would be consequences. The Brenner’s were the last foster family I was with, not the first, second, or third. I counted my lucky stars with them because they were the least violent of all my shelters, and I had Kaleb, who eventually taught them a lesson.

My belly twists at the memory of how terrifying that had been.

Stop it, Dae.

I think Kaleb robbing them blind then setting their house on fire, with them still in it, was the pivotal step on my path to damnation. Luckily, they’d escaped with only a few minor burns, but Kaleb didn’t want to stop until they were six feet under. I had no clue what he was planning to do to them. He only ever said shit like, “I’ll take everything from them, babygirl. Just for you…”

I tried convincing him that revenge wasn’t necessary. That it was too much, too wrong. But he only harped on the ways they’d treated me throughout the years, and the things they’d done to other foster kids who lived with them as well. Back then, I thought he was a psychopathic hero. Now, I see he’s just a psychopath.

Especially considering arson isn’t the worst things he’s done “on my behalf.”

Letting out a long sigh, I reset my mind and refocus on the present and the better, badder man I’m with now. Dmitri and I face each other in the tub, the hot water rising over my breasts as we settle in.

He leans back, resting his arms on the edge of the porcelain and regards me with a look of indifference. “What’s racing through your pretty little head, Firefly?”

I’m not telling him the truth. That’s way too much damning information. I also don’t want Kaleb in my head anymore. “Why do you call me Firefly?”

“Do you not like it?”

I do, but it’s such a weird nickname to give me. “I’m just curious.”

Does he call all the women he sleeps with Firefly or just me? I hate how the term makes me feel special and endeared. I don’t deserve it.

He smiles and does the same thing I just did by answering my question with another question. “Where did you get that burn scar on your wrist?”

I sink my arms into the water and keep a straight face. “Tell me what burned that triangle in your lower back first.”

The corners of his mouth slightly lift. “An iron. It was just the tip, though, so it’s not nearly as big as it could have been.”

The way he’s comparing what is, and what could have been, makes me queasy. I’ve rationalized my own traumas the same way.

“Your turn, Firefly.”

“Mine’s from a ring. It was just something stupid I did when I was younger.” Not a complete lie. I may not have held myself down and branded my body, but I agreed to it.

Sort of.

Dmitri stares at me until goosebumps erupt down my arms and my nipples harden, even as I’m submerged up to my throat in hot water. The lavender scented bath salts relax me as I mirror Dmitri’s posture.

He closes his eyes, and a sigh leaves him.

We drop into a dead silence, and I grow antsy. I can’t relax around a killer. It’s bad enough I’m in a tub with him. Or that I’m sleeping with him.

Or that I’m “fucking” him.

“When do you fight again?”

D’s eyes open into slits. “Why?”

“No reason.”

His mouth curves into a devious smile. “You gonna be mad if I fuck some other prize?”

I hadn’t thought of that part of it, and I’ll never admit that jealousy has the audacity to coil in my gut at the thought of someone else chained up with her legs spread for him.

“You’d have to win to get the prize.”

“I don’t lose,” he says, like it’s a well-known fact.

“Not even once?”

“Not since I was a kid.”

“Well, aren’t you special?” Our legs are tangled, so I curl up until my kneecaps break the water's surface. “How’s it feel to be a legend, Dmitri?”

His rumbly chuckle spreads heat through my body. “I’m not a legend, Firefly. Just a man with nothing to lose.”

“Everyone has something to lose.” I have Addie. Surely Dmitri has someone he cares about too.

He dips his hands in the tub and leans forward, searching for something under the water. When his hand wraps around my ankle, he gently pulls it towards his chest and massages my foot. “When I cage fight, I go in knowing there’s every possibility I will not climb out of it. I’m okay with that.”

Nausea makes my belly roll. “That’s…”

“The truth of my lifestyle.” He flashes a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Does my fighting bother you now?”

Yes . The thought of this man dying in an underground cage fight sends panic racing in my bloodstream. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose Dmitri.

Kaleb’s words from the other day suddenly haunt me… He hasn’t been in the ring for a long time, but I’m working on a plan to lure him there again … What could Kaleb possibly use to drag Dmitri back to the ring with?

And how can I stop it?

Okay. Whoa. Whose side am I on here?

Shaking the chaos from my brain, I pull my foot out of his grip and wrap my arms around my knees, hugging myself. I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t be doing this. Everything about this mission is wrong .

Even when Kaleb thinks his actions are justified—like setting fire to my former foster home—it never is. He’s just being a criminal, an asshole, and a monster who uses pathetic reasons to excuse his deplorably evil actions.

How am I going to get out of this?

Even if Dmitri is a murderer, Kaleb is no better. I’m standing between a lion and a wolf, and both blood thirsty animals are spoiling for a fight.

“That right there,” Dmitri says, leaning forward to run his hands up my legs. “That look on your face is breaking my heart, Daelyn.” He slides me closer until I’m caged in his embrace with my head tucked under his chin. “Shhhhh, don’t be upset that I fight. I’ve never gone against anyone who doesn’t deserve an ass-whooping anyway, Firefly.”

He thinks I’m upset over him fighting. How horrible am I to let this continue?

Whether or not Dmitri is a bad guy, I don’t want Kaleb to win the war he’s waged between them. “Don’t fight anymore,” I plead.

“It’s not an option for me.”

“Yes, it is.”

He lets me go and the atmosphere around us shifts. Chills. When this happens between me and Kaleb, I get hurt, so I immediately go into damage control to prevent it from happening this time with Dmitri.

“I’m just scared for you. You say you have nothing to lose, but it’s not just about you. Others will care if they lose you, Dmitri. Ever think about that?”

The energy between us warms again.

“Aw hell.” He tightens his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. We hold each other for a while before he finally says, “I haven’t fought in a long time. But shit’s gone sideways for me lately, and throwing fists is my way of dealing with my demons.”

I lightly run my fingers down his back. Scars are everywhere on him. There’s no way I’m touching the triangular shaped one left by that iron. I’m still sickened to think of how the hell a mother could do that do her own son.

“It’s not all bad in the ring,” he says lightly. “I met you there.”

I pull back, rolling my eyes dramatically. “Lame.”

Dmitri laughs. “Lame but true. How else would we have met?”

I’m sure Kaleb would have cooked up some other way to put me in Dmitri’s path. “Maybe fate would have shoved us together some other way.”

“I don’t believe in fate.”

“Well, I do.”

He chuckles again, like I’m adorable for saying that, and ungracefully spins me around, just to slide my ass against his groin so he can be the big spoon. We stay like this, nestled together, in silence, for a while.

“The water’s getting cold,” he finally whispers against the shell of my ear.

“So is our food.”

He reaches over and tries to grab the bowl of fruit off the counter, but his arms aren’t long enough to reach it. “Damnit.”

I lean forward and he stands up, making some of the water slosh out of the tub. Dmitri snags the bowl and looks down at me with a devilish grin. His hard dick is right in my face, the piercing gleaming in the candlelight. His legs are so thick and muscular. There’s a long cut on one, but it’s scabbed over, and I wonder what happened there.

Plucking out a grape, Dmitri rolls it between his thumb and forefinger before placing it between his teeth. Then he squats down, leans into my face, and arches his brow.

Rising on my knees, I gently take it from him with my teeth. We kiss, rolling the firm grape back and forth between our mouths. He growls and lifts me up, unceremoniously taking me out of the tub. He pulls back and eats the grape while saying, “Don’t let go of me.”

I wrap my arms wrap around his neck, my legs hooking tight at his waist. He saunters out of the bathroom with both of us dripping wet. Goosebumps ripple all over my body as Dmitri storms over to the waiting tray of food and pulls the lid off the first dish.

“Open that pretty mouth for me, Daelyn.”

D feeds me a French fry while I cling to him.

“What would you like next?”

I stare down at the tray, waiting patiently as he lifts the lids off each plate. He makes me feel like his little pet that he enjoys taking care of. I hate how much I want it to be true. “I want the burger.”

He grabs the hefty sucker and holds it up to me. “Bite.”

My god, this shouldn’t be so fucking hot, but it is. Wetness drips out of me and it’s not from the tub. Flavor bursts on my tongue and I’m suddenly ravenous. I go to take another bite, but Dmitri pulls it back before I can get it. “Patience, Firefly.”

He holds my gaze for several seconds before slowly bringing the burger back to my lips. “One more bite.”

I chomp down and take a bite that’s too big to chew.

Dmitri laughs as he wipes some of the mayo off the corner of my mouth. “What next, baby?”

My heart sighs as I point at a croissant I don’t remember him ordering. In fact, he hadn’t asked for the fruit bowl either. Or the roasted asparagus. There’s a lot of extra food on this big tray.

He lifts the pastry to my mouth, and I wait for him to give me permission to eat it.

The thrill that shoots through me when he smiles at my obedience is a huge red flag. I don’t care. I like that I’m pleasing him. I like the way I feel when I make him happy.

“Bite,” he orders gruffly.

I stuff as much of it in my mouth as I can, sending flakes of buttery crust fluttering all over us. I’m like an animal that hasn’t eaten a decent meal in forever.

Dmitri roughly runs his hand over my mouth and chin, knocking the crumbs off as I chew and swallow. I’m clinging to him so tightly he doesn’t have to hold me at all.

“Christ,” he whispers.

“He won’t save you.”

His gaze lifts from my mouth to meet my eyes. “Can you?”

“I’ll try,” I reply, not knowing if it’s a lie or not.

Our mouths collide and we turn into a tornado of lust and violence. His kisses are punishing. Bruising. I scrape my nails down his arms, leaving red ribbons on his skin.

Abandoning the food, he gets us onto the bed, and I force him to climb in with me, on top of me, because I still haven’t let go of him.

“Fuuuuck.” He twists out of my locked arms, which makes me pout. “Gotta get a condom.”

It’s probably the only excuse worth letting him go for.

He snatches a fresh package from a stocked bowl on the end table and rips it open with his teeth, spitting the wrapper onto the rug. As he slides it over his length, I’m annoyed that I can’t feel his Prince Albert piercing bare inside me.

Dmitri lifts my legs, hooking them over his shoulders, and grabs one of my ankles. With his gaze locked on me, he sucks on my toes, rolling his tongue over each one. The sensation is so strange, so sensitive, that I squeal and try to twist away from him. But his grip tightens on my thighs, telling me to be still.

He nips my arch, my heel, my ankle and calf, then sets my leg back onto his shoulder. Dmitri’s chest heaves with each slow, steady, deep breath he takes as he aligns his cock against my entrance, teasing me by rubbing his tip on my clit.

“Jesus,” I groan.

“He can’t save you either.”

“Can you?”

We hold each other’s gaze for several heartbeats. Then Dmitri shakes his head slowly and shoves inside me, inch by motherfucking inch.

At least he’s being honest.

And if one of us is going to die by the end of this, we might as well go out with a bang, right?