Chapter Fifteen

M ia knew exactly what he was doing. Nik had confided more than he’d wanted and now he was lashing out. Even though he was trying to push her away, Mia refused to let him.

“I may be naive, but I’m far from stupid, Nik.”

“I don’t know. Letting me fuck you probably wasn’t your best decision,” he said dryly.

“I disagree,” she stated, lazily rolling onto her back with a soft sigh and letting her hand slide beneath the sheet. She could tell he was watching her like a hawk and she smothered a smile. “Why would I regret such amazing orgasms?”

“Are you touching yourself?” he ground out.

She turned her head and gave him a slow, sultry blink. “Maybe.”

Well, that did it. He closed the distance between them and slammed his mouth against hers, slipping his tongue between her lips and kissing the holy bejesus out of her. Meanwhile, his hand slid beneath the blanket and found its way between her legs, brushing hers away.

“Whenever you’re ready for another orgasm, you tell me and I’ll take care of it. Understand?” He pinched her clit and she gasped. Yet her traitorous legs dropped open as if he just pressed the button on a remote control.

Outside, the wind had picked up and the roof shook above them as he simultaneously fucked her with his eyes and fingers. As callous as he tried to convince her he was, she knew he wasn’t going to involve his cock again. Not yet, anyway. He knew she’d be sore and, yes, he could be a bastard, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. She believed that with every fiber of her being.

Mia had trouble focusing as he stroked her into a frenzy then plunged a finger into her wet heat. He obviously had no intention of leaving her unsatisfied, and he made sure to be slow and gentle and thorough. In minutes, her world shattered all over again as she rode his hand to a glorious finish.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come.” Their eyes locked and he pulled his hand up and sucked his glistening fingers clean. It was sexy and dirty, and she loved it.

Nik rolled onto his back and Mia turned onto her side to face him. She slowly moved closer, as though approaching a wild animal that might bolt if she made too sudden of a move. Nik might be able to fuck like a prized stallion, but he was wild, and intimacy was as foreign to him as a saddle on an unbroken horse. She laid her palm on his chest and her chin on the back of her hand.

“You chose your name, didn’t you? Nik Valentine.” The significance of his last name and call sign didn’t escape her. He’d been abandoned on February fourteenth, St. Valentine’s Day.

His chest rose with a deep inhale and he gave her a slight, nearly imperceptible nod. “You said it sounded made up. Guess it is. All my names, I gave myself.”

He’d gotten snarky and told her not everyone had been given a billionaire’s last name, and now she understood why. The hurt that resulted from being unwanted by your own blood ran deep and left painful scars that no one else could see.

“I might have a billionaire’s last name, but I’ve never had a family,” she said softly. “I spent my life being ignored, and the little girl in me always hoped one day he would reach out, ask for forgiveness and want a relationship. Silly, I know. Maybe you’re right and I am stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Mia. I shouldn’t have said that.” He trailed his fingers up and down her back. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him the faintest wisp of a smile. “Guess neither of us grew up with an overabundance of love and family.”

“No.” Something shifted in his demeanor and he began tracing small circles on her hip. “It’s how I got tangled up with the Bratva. They looked awfully good to a street rat like me, and when they opened their arms in welcome, when no one else did, I embraced them back.”

“What about the orphanage?” she asked.

He snorted. “I ran away when I was seven.”

“It was that bad?”

“They were cruel…sadistic. They loved doling out punishments and I was a bad kid. Always getting into trouble and mouthing off. Beatings were pretty much a daily occurrence.”

“Jesus. That’s awful.”

“After those fuckers locked me in a dark closet for three days, I ran away. To this day, I’m still not great when I see a rat. And you saw what happened in that tunnel. Small spaces usually trigger panic.”

“You’re probably claustrophobic. How could you not be?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t talk about it. Just do my best to avoid tight spots.”

“You’re not the only one who’s had panic attacks,” she confided softly. His fingers froze their caressing circles. “My father was adamant I go to law school even though I wanted to get my degree in business. I’ve never been able to stand up to him and I convinced myself I might like it. That if I did what he wanted then maybe I’d finally gain his love and approval.”

“And?”

“And I hated it so much. I would freak out, especially if I had to stand up and present an argument. It got so bad, I started skipping classes. My grades tanked, but he never knew, never noticed. I held out for two years then couldn’t take it anymore. The idea of telling my father made me break out in hives, but I knew I had to face him. My friend Liv finally convinced me to do it because I was so miserable, I was making myself sick.”

“How did he take it?”

“He was furious. Called me ungrateful and worthless.”

“I’m glad you stuck up for yourself. It’s not always an easy thing to do.”

“Especially not when your father is Chadwick Carlisle. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell him to eat a bag of dicks?”

A laugh burst from his throat. “You’re really something else.”

She trailed her hand over a tattoo on his chest. “How long did you live on the street?” she asked softly.

“Eight years. It’s where I met Nadia. We learned to steal and run little cons, playing on people’s empathy or ignorance. Sometimes we had enough money to rent a room after we pooled our money together with a couple other kids. But, I’d sleep wherever I could find some warmth—usually beneath the lights of Kazan Cathedral or near a warm street grate.”

Her heart wept for the little boy who’d never had a home. Although Chadwick was a dick who mostly ignored her, he’d always made sure she had a roof over her head and food on the table. A luxury Nik never had while growing up.

“One day I stole from the wrong person and got my first introduction to the Bratva.”

“What happened?” she asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know. The more he told her, the more she understood why he was the way he was.

“I pickpocketed a gold watch off a well-dressed man’s wrist and got caught. He whipped out a knife and was going to cut my finger off. Even though I was scared and nearly pissed my pants, I put on a brave face, ready to take my punishment like I always did. He stopped right before slicing and smiled. He told me the Brotherhood could use someone like me. A fearless shit. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished Anton Petrov had cut my finger off and walked away.”

Talk about a strong statement. Mia traced her finger over his firm, inked pecs. “Did they give you all these tattoos?”

“A lot of them,” he responded vaguely, then changed the subject. “What about you? What was it like growing up in a big mansion with only a nanny?”

“Lonely,” she answered solemnly. “I never knew my mom, don’t really remember her either. She died when I was only four and my father and I never had a relationship.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to and I tried, but he never seemed to care, preferring to ignore my existence. He spent all his time trying to amass his wealth and increase his status. I was just the inconvenient daughter he never wanted.”

A sadness washed over her and Nik must’ve sensed the way her mood shifted. He rubbed his finger over the crease between her eyes, smoothing it out. “Forget about him. C’mon. Let me warm you up in front of the fireplace with another orgasm.”

Her stomach dropped and she couldn’t deny the wetness between her legs.

How could she say no to that?

◆◆◆

The blizzard raged on throughout the night. As the wind howled and snow fell, accumulating several feet, Saint found a strange sort of peace. He wanted to attribute it to finally laying his past with the Bratva and Petrov to rest, but he knew it had more to do with the woman at his side. In his arms.

Mia Carlisle entranced him. It was more than her beauty. For the first time since he could remember, he felt lighter, almost carefree. She brought out his inner child, something he thought had died a long time ago when he lost his innocence. Her light and goodness drew him in and she had this magical way of soothing him. A part of him wondered what kind of long- term effects she might have on him. Because the short-term ones? Hell, they were nothing short of miraculous.

It was nearly three in the morning and they’d been talking for hours. Talking. He’d never spent this long talking to a woman in his life, especially when he could’ve been fucking her instead. Granted, he didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much sex. He could be a demanding bastard in the bedroom, and hurting Mia in order to get off didn’t sit well with him.

The funny thing was, he was enjoying their chat thoroughly. He’d made a pan of hot chocolate spiked with vodka on the stove and they’d drunk the whole thing. The alcohol loosened their inhibitions and helped his wound become nothing more than a dull throb. His mouth edged up as Mia finished telling some silly story. Although it took more than a couple mugs of vodka-infused cocoa to get him drunk, Mia was adorably tipsy, with flushed cheeks and the firelight glowing on her flawless skin.

Saint shifted on the couch, his cock responding to her. It was getting harder and harder not to touch her. The more he got to know her, the more he recognized a kindred spirit. Yes, they’d grown up under completely different circumstances, but they both had a gaping hole in their hearts from growing up unloved and without a family.

Maybe, together, they could fix that. He didn’t know how or if that was just a stupid idea. But what if they could fill the empty spaces they each harbored?

Speaking of filling each other up. His attention dropped to her full, luscious mouth. He was dying to get inside that sweet body again. Too soon, asshole.

She was giggling about something and he set his empty mug on the coffee table. He was done talking. Grabbing her face in his hands, he silenced her bright laughter with a deep, steamy kiss. The urge to claim her, to mark her as his, overwhelmed him.

Saint groaned into her mouth when she ran her tongue over the seam of his lips. She tasted like chocolate and he licked her back, savoring her taste. Just like the hot cocoa they’d enjoyed, Mia was sweet and addictive. Milk chocolate and marshmallows compared to his bitter, smoky self. She exuded such a bright, positive light while he was more of a dark side kinda guy. Dark humor, dark clothes, dark soul.

Not his kitten, though. She could be so playful one minute and a seductive siren the next. She was more than unexpected—she kept him on his toes.

Breaking her mouth away, her azure eyes glowed as she sent him a slow, sensual smile that changed on a dime when her eyes widened and she sucked in a quick breath. “I have to pee,” she announced, then hopped off the couch.

Saint laughed. She’d gone from politely saying “restroom” and not wanting him to hear her in the bathroom to announcing she had to pee. Clearly, she’d gotten over her initial shyness. What would be next? he wondered. The more time they spent together, the more bold she became, and he couldn’t wait to see what she revealed next. Somehow, he was becoming more than a little invested in what was happening between them.

With a satisfied grunt, he sank back against the cushions, contemplating all of the wicked things he hadn’t done to her yet. All the different ways he wanted to take her and make her his. Knowing he was the only man who’d touched and tasted her pretty pink pussy, whose cock had been deep inside it, made him shiver despite the roaring fire.

Things were getting complicated fast. His logical side told him to keep his dick in his pants. His dick, however, made a good argument about deserving some fucking—it had been far too long since he’d been allowed to play.

The moment Mia walked back into the room, swinging his handcuffs around her index finger and eyeing him like a piece of meat, Saint knew his dick just won the argument.

“What have you got there, kotyonok ?”

“I thought maybe we could put them on you this time,” she murmured, strolling over and dropping down to straddle his lap. “For fun.”

He hiked a brow and smirked. “And then what?”

“And then I’m going to have my way with you.”

“Oh? Are you sure you know what to do with me?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.” Her fingers hooked the elastic of his waistband and she snapped it against his flat stomach. “Will you show me, Nik? So I can please you like you pleased me?”

Hunger and potent desire roared through his veins, and his dick was trying to escape the slit in his pajama bottoms. “Yes,” he said, voice husky. “But me first. And we don’t need the cuffs.”

Mia gave him an adorable grin and tossed the handcuffs, and he barely registered when they hit the small lamp on the table, knocking it sideways.