Chapter 20

Nicolai

I wake with Marissa on my chest, the memory of what I did pressing heavily in my mind. I heard the screams of the man I tortured while I slept fitfully. The brutality I inflicted haunted me even in slumber. I can’t erase it from my mind, what I did to earn Marissa.

I don’t regret it.

He owed a debt to the Bratva he couldn’t pay, and heard through connections we were obtaining women to bring as tributes. He wanted retribution for the punishment the Bratva inflicted, and knew it would be easier to ambush a few than the entire brigade.

But this we didn’t know until we brutally, savagely drew it from him.

I listen to the sound of birds tweeting outside our window as the sun rises and she sleeps on. I try to find solace in the calming sounds, and the feel of her in my arms, but this time it isn’t enough. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, moving slowly so I don’t wake her.

Last night helped. When I unleash myself on her and she withstands it, it helps me bear what I carry. Somehow knowing that she loves me despite my flaws, that she doesn’t cave when I dominate her, that I can let myself go and master her and she doesn’t push me away, gives me fortitude and strength. She is the calm to my storm, the still water to my rapids.

Someone recognized me yesterday at the induction. I know they did. Today I will find who he is. I will not cower in fear and wait for a confrontation but find him out and silence him.

Every time I take a life, it becomes easier. I fucking hate that it does.

Anyone who recognizes me here worked for Myron, and lied to him about my death. My being alive puts him at risk, so logically he won’t out me. But he might kill me, and that’s only if he knows who I am. If he sees me with Marissa, the chances are far greater. There’s nowhere to hide her, not with the cameras they have. Hiding her may not be the best strategy.

It might be better to make a public display of her, watch the reactions of the others, and end whatever threat he is to us.

I still, my breathing slowing. I think of murdering another as easily as I would place an order for lunch. It disturbs me how easily I would kill someone to save her.

But I will. I fucking will if I have to.

“You awake?” she asks. Her eyes are still closed, but her arms around me tighten.

“Yeah,” I whisper, dragging my fingers through her thick, glossy hair. Every stroke of my hand up and down her beautiful waves soothes the beast in me.

“You slept terribly,” she says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’ve never been more conflicted in my life. But before I can say another thing, a knock sounds at the door.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Yakov.”

I get out of bed and pull on a pair of boxers, and point to the sheets to be sure Marissa covers up. I walk over to the door and unlock it. He looks as if he hasn’t slept all night, his eyes bloodshot and clothes wrinkled.

“Come in here,” I say, dragging him in by the arm. “What the fuck happened to you?” I shut the door behind him.

“Been up all night,” he says, scrubbing a hand across his brow. “Bothered me that Erik wasn’t here. I wondered where he was. So I went looking for him.”

“Alone? That’s foolish, brother.”

He shakes his head. “Not now, Aleks.”

I nod. I won’t lecture him now. Something is wrong.

“Did you find him?”

“I did.” He doesn’t have to tell me how or why. I can tell by his grim expression that he found nothing good. I wait.

He sighs. “He was hanging from a beam in the basement,” he says. “Left a note. Hung himself.”

“Motherfucker.” I close my eyes while I absorb this. He took his own goddamned life.

“You tell Tomas yet?”

Yakov shakes his head. “No. That’s why I came to get you. Thought we could go together.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t suspect Tomas will care much,” he says. “He said he wasn’t going to induct him.”

“Right,” I say, pulling on a t-shirt. “Which is probably why Erik killed himself.”

“Yeah.”

I look over to Marissa. She’s paled, the sheets pulled up to her chin as she watches us in silence. She’s heard it all but doesn’t react.

“I have to go with him,” I tell her. “You are not to leave this room.”

She holds my gaze for a moment before she nods. “Yes, sir.”

I walk over to her and sit on the edge of the bed. Gently, I hold her face with both hands and capture her gaze. I can’t speak freely for Yakov to hear, but I can show her what I need to say. I lean down and brush my lips against hers before I hold her to my chest. I release her with reluctance and get to my feet, then nod to Yakov.

“Let’s go.”

The meeting with Tomas is brief. He doesn’t even flinch when we tell him but nods, then picks up his phone and orders the body disposed of in rapid Russian. Before we leave, he calls out to us, though he’s already focused back on the computer in front of him, typing away and trying to finish some bookkeeping.

“Visitors tonight,” he says. “Bring your women to dinner. Well done with the interrogation.” He gives us a small smile.

Fuck. I nod, and leave with Yakov.

“You don’t want to bring her,” Yakov says when we’ve gone a few paces down the hall.

“Fuck no. Do you?”

He smiles. “Well, yes.”

I look at him incredulously. “Really? Why?”

He rubs his chin while he walks. “Because she’s beautiful and mine, and there’s no better way to make that clear than in front of the other brothers.”

“Understood.”

“And why don’t you want your woman to come?” he asks curiously.

“Because I don’t want them to even look at her. If someone touches her, I’d have to kill them, and that wouldn’t be the best way to solidify my new induction into this brotherhood.”

He laughs out loud and punches my shoulder. “True.”

God, it feels good to have the companionship of a brother again. I hated that Myron forced me out of my father’s Bratva group. Hated it. I had long-term friends I’ve known for years, men I’d give my life for. Men who now think I’m dead. A sister. And Yakov, though brutal and fierce, is a good man.

But I can’t stay in this brotherhood. I will find a way to get her out of here.

Then what? Will we run and hide for the rest of our lives?

When we reach the door, we freeze. The sound on the other side is so foreign, it takes me a minute to realize what it is.

Marissa isn’t alone. She’s giggling.

I give Yakov a curious look and open the door. Marissa and Yvonne sit on her bed, and both girls look up at us with wide, curious eyes, like they’ve done something wrong and they’re wondering if they’re in trouble.

“They look guilty to me,” I say to Yakov, my voice teasing but stern. “Don’t you think?”

He crosses his arms on his chest and fixes them both with a serious look. “Very. Did you girls misbehave?”

“No,” Marissa says, shaking her head. Her hands are in Yvonne’s hair, and she’s halfway through braiding it. “We just… well, we weren’t totally sure we were allowed to come into each other’s rooms, but you didn’t say we couldn’t…”

She bites her lip and her voice trails off.

“We didn’t give them permission, did we, Yakov?” I keep my face impassive, though truthfully I find them adorable.

“We did not.” Yakov crooks a finger at Yvonne. “Come here.”

Marissa releases Yvonne’s hair, and it tumbles down around her shoulders in waves. She’s more timid than Marissa, smaller. When she reaches him, he grips her arm and leads her to the bathroom. He looks over his shoulder at me. “See me before dinner tonight?”

I nod, then the two of them are gone.

I turn to face Marissa. “Do you think I would want you taking any risks?”

Her eyes go wide. “No, sir.”

I shake my head. “I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me. I told you I would punish you.”

She swallows and her eyes widen, but her cheeks are a pretty pink.

“I didn’t disobey you. I never left this room.”

“But you allowed someone else in here,” I say, keeping my voice firm. I’m not at all upset with her, but I like the way she melts when I threaten punishment. I’ve punished her only a handful of times. She ignites every time. I know that if I slid my fingers between her thighs right now, she’d be wet for me.

I bend down to the floor where I left my belt and lift it. Her jaw literally drops open and she stares at me in disbelief.

“You—you wouldn’t, sir!” she says. Good girl, remembering how to address me.

I fold the leather into a loop and fist the buckle, then take a step toward her while holding her gaze.

“Oh, I would.”

“Just for me inviting Yvonne over here?”

No, not for that, but because she needs this.

Because I fucking do. A man killed himself today and two bodies lie in makeshift graves. The world outside this door is out of my control. But in here? With her, I am her master.

“You invited her over?” I say. “So not only are you in trouble, but you led your friend to misbehave, and now she’s in trouble, too.”

“Oh,” Marissa says. She bites her lip. “I didn’t think of that.”

I point the belt to the bed. “Out of bed, and bend belly-down over the edge,” I order.

“Sir…” I can tell she’s dying to call me Nicolai, but she knows I’ll punish her for real if she does. But Khristos, I want her to. I want to hear her say my name.

I pull the belt loop and snap it.

“Now.”

“You told me you’d only punish me if I came without permission!” she protests, but she scrambles out of the bed nonetheless. I note her hair is braided down her back, and she looks so sweet. Yvonne probably fixed it, like a little sister. So cute.

“That, too,” I tell her. “But it isn’t the only reason.”

I point to the bed with the folded leather. “Marissa,” I say warningly.

I began this almost teasing, but her protests have earned her a few more strokes. My cock is hard as steel, my grip a tight fist to help me control my need to punish.

With a grimace, she folds herself over the edge of the bed. She’s wearing a little dress, having gotten changed since I left this morning. I step over to her and bend down, my flank pressed up against her. I bring my mouth to her ear.

“You’ll take every stripe of my belt,” I tell her. “And you’ll like it.”

“I will not!” she protests, her eyes flashing at me. Her protesting is part of the appeal, and it’s all the invitation I need. I stand, take my position behind her, then snap my belt across the fullest part of her ass. She hisses and grips the bedsheet, coming up on her toes as a stripe of pink paints her ass. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

I bring back my belt and let it fly a second time, then a third, each stroke painting a different part of her a fetching rose color. Careful not to let the leather strike the same place twice, I vary the strokes.

“Why are you being punished, Marissa?”

“Because I didn’t ask permission?” she asks with a question in her voice.

I whip her again.

“Is that a question?”

“No, sir,” she says with a moan, squirming and making my dick impossibly harder. The way her full ass is on display, crisscrossed with pink, her submissive posture as she takes her punishment beautiful. A true testament to how much she trusts me. And I won’t make this terrible for her. She hasn’t earned a real punishment, but given me a reason to do what I’ve been longing to do for years. I’ve fantasized about doing this, stroked myself off to this very image, the thought of whipping her so fucking hot I can hardly control myself.

“Will you obey me, then?” I ask in a tight voice, panting with the effort of holding myself back.

“Yes, sir,” she says. I pause between strokes of the belt, and part her thighs with the folded leather.

“Let’s see that pussy,” I rasp, my voice husky with arousal. “Show me how wet you are. Let me see.”

Obediently, she spreads her legs. Her inner thighs are coated with arousal, the scent of her feminine musk pervading the room. She’s fucking soaked.

“How am I ever going to teach you to obey?” I muse, as I step closer and run the leather up and down her thighs. “If every time I spank you, you’re ready to come?”

She closes her eyes and swallows hard. “How am I supposed to take you seriously? When every time you punish me, you’re ready to come?”

“Watch that tone, little girl.”

That earns her three more strokes of the belt for her sass. By the last, she’s up on her toes and begging for mercy, but I grant her none. Not until I bring her to a place beyond where she’s comfortable, to that deep state of submission I’ve taken her before. Beyond the physical pain and to the very edge of euphoria.

I need this. I fucking need this, all of it, this outlet, her submission, our connection.

She stills. I whip her again with the folded leather, but this time she doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t cry out. She’s getting dragged under the waters of submission, where pain and pleasure meld.

“Will you behave?”

“Mmmm.” It seems she can’t speak, her words jumbled, eyes closed.

“Good girl,” I approve, dropping the belt. She doesn’t flinch. I lean in close to her, the heat of her punished skin pressed up to me when I hear her moan. I embrace her from behind, my hands finding her bare breasts and cupping them, before I run my thumbs along her hardened nipples.

“Will you be a good girl?” I whisper in her ear as I tweak her nipples.

“A perfect angel,” she responds. Her eyes are closed and she’s grinning. God, I love this woman so much. We’ve been through hell and back, and I’ll fight through every layer of torment to earn our freedom if it kills me. I brush her hair off her forehead and kiss her cheek.

“Good girl.”

My cock throbs, aching to be in her. I free myself and drag the head of my cock to her slick entrance. She’s never been so wet, so ready. I cup her heated backside in my hand and squeeze, then drag my thumb to her asshole and press. She tenses. “I will own this ass.”

“My God,” she breathes, her cheeks flushing again. I stifle a chuckle. She still holds an innocence I find intoxicating. I slide my cock into her pussy. She’s so much wetter than the last time we made love, I easily glide in and out, my need to fuck her immediate and intense.

“Fucking perfect,” I groan, thrusting. Her pussy grips my cock, her channel clenching around me, so tight and slick.

“Tell me when you’re ready to come.”

Her climax builds from a soft moan, but she’s growing louder, her pleasure more intense until she arches her back and begins to climax.

“Now, sir,” she says on a choked whisper. I’m right on the cusp of my own release, and her clenching pussy and gorgeous moans make me lose my mind. I pump into her, hard and fast, and even though it feels so good, it feels so right, this time is different. There’s a qualitative difference this time.

Did I put a baby in her this time?

I’m so overcome with the thought, I lean down and hold her back to my chest, my cock still in her.

“Fuck, I love you,” I tell her.

“Fuck, I love you, too,” she says with a smile. “And I love to fuck.”

I teasingly slap her ass before I pull out and clean us up. I lead her to the bathroom and we shower together. We don’t speak. Neither of us knows if this will be the last time we’re together or if something today will happen to threaten us again. Finally, when we’re showered and cleaned I put my forehead to hers.

“I don’t know what will happen tonight, but I will get you to myself, Marissa. No matter what.”

She laces her fingers through mine and closes her eyes. “No matter what.”

We dress in silence, and I find some things to occupy her while I meet my brothers. I hate leaving her, but have to at least for now.

I’ve been looking for the man I saw last night, but don’t see him. I wonder if it was my imagination that told me I saw something in his eyes that concerned me, or did he really recognize me?

I’ve changed my identity and don’t look exactly the way I did before, but if anyone here suspects me, he will for sure know me when I show up with Marissa. I consider pretending she’s sick or some such thing, but right before I’m supposed to meet the rest for dinner, Tomas comes to my room.

“I’d like a word with her before we go,” he says. Shit.

“Certainly.” I hope he doesn’t note how tight my voice is, or the way my hands are clenched into fists.

I open the door. Marissa is standing just outside the bathroom, fixing her hair. She’s dressed in a modest blue dress that hugs her curves but covers her. I picked it out myself. I’ve had someone come in to do her makeup, and though she still wears a bandage from the accident, she looks gorgeous.

“Isn’t she a pretty little thing,” Tomas says appreciatively.

“The most beautiful,” I agree tightly.

He walks into the room. I wonder why he’s here. Her eyes come to mine and I point to the floor.

“Kneel,” I instruct.

She falls to her knees and bows her head the way I’ve taught her. Even though I’m on edge, something in me warms at that. She’s a very good girl.

“Well done,” Tomas says approvingly before he addresses Marissa. “I came to remind you what will happen tonight. We have men from other brotherhoods coming to visit, and we’ll expect the few women present to be on their best behavior. We haven’t had time for Aleks to show me how well he’s trained you.”

Marissa nods but keeps her eyes down. “Yes, sir.”

I walk over to her and rest my hand atop her head. “She knows exactly what I expect and exactly what happens if she disobeys. Don’t you?”

She nods again. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good,” Tomas says. “You will sit at my right hand.”

He leaves the room and I look to Marissa.

“There will be no hiding beside him,” I tell her.

She looks up from her kneeling position, her eyes no longer subdued but flashing with fire. “I’m tired of hiding.”

“I don’t know who the guests are,” I explain.

Her gaze remains fixed on me. “I don’t fucking care.”

I smile and chuck a finger under her chin. She’s fiery, but she will listen. “But you’ll obey?”

She smiles. “Always, sir.”

I take in a deep breath. “Let’s go.”