Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ollie

We sat alone in the garden. I had managed to convince Mikhail to give us a little space. The air was cool, the scent of blooming flowers fragrant in the air. We walked in silence as if each lost in our own thoughts.

"Tell me about you, Ollie. You've asked me about me, and I feel like you already know me. But I don't know much about you."

No one ever asked me that before.

I never wanted to tell anyone. I didn't think anyone would ever care enough to ask.

My family knew, all my brothers, of course, but it wasn't something we ever talked about.

I looked at her, and for some reason, felt I could trust her. I shrugged. "There's not much to tell."

"I find that hard to believe," Renata said sweetly. "I know you've been through a lot, and I think a part of you is actually really good."

I laughed, not sure how to take that. "Uh, thanks?"

"You know what I mean," she said quietly.

I did know.

"All right, I'll tell you about me if you really want to hear it." I ran a hand through my hair. How was it that I could face an enemy or a whole room full of enemies and not feel as nervous as I did now? I hated this. But there was something about her…

I took a deep breath, my eyes focusing on the distance as I began to talk. "When I was a kid, my father was involved in a bunch of shady shit. I wasn't aware yet. I was just a kid, and I didn't realize who my father was or what he was doing. My parents would always fight at night, and I didn't know about what until that day his enemies came."

She listened intently, her eyes reflecting her emotions. She didn't move, sitting as still as a statue as I continued.

"So my father's enemies came for him one day," I tell her softly, even though my voice is still tight with emotion. "They broke into our home. My father didn't survive that day. His enemies made sure of it, and I was just a boy. Powerless."

"Ollie," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"I hid," I said in a whisper. "My mother and I hid and watched as they tortured and killed my father. I was just a kid, but even now, I'll never forgive myself for hiding. For not stepping out and doing something—anything to stop them."

She reached for my hand. "You couldn't have stopped it, Ollie. You were just a boy, and no one could expect you to face that kind of danger alone. Your mother was probably only trying to save you."

I shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't make it any easier. I think she wanted him to dead. He was terrible to her. I still wish I could've done something. If I could go back in time…"

We stood in the garden, the shared confession hanging in the air between us.

We're ten minutes out from a small motel in the northernmost corner of upstate New York. It's midnight, and Yelp assures me this place gets less than stellar reviews, but that's not my priority. I'm less concerned about the condition of the place and more about its strategic location. The run-down motel sits on a rise, giving me a perfect vantage point—a place where I can see any threat long before it sees us.

"Oh my, honeymoon central, you've outdone yourself with this place Mr. Romanov," Renata says sarcastically with a smile. "Hopefully the coffee's good at least."

I glance at the map again, confirming the terrain. If we're lucky, this motel will give us the upper hand, making sure I can see any enemies before they see us. Aleks assured me no one's followed us, but after the strange incident with the cloaked figure, I don't trust anyone or anything.

No more strangely cloaked figures appear in the middle of nowhere. Renata has an endless list of who or what it might have been.

"Misplaced scarecrow, that's it," she says as she puts the car in park. I grunt in response. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't.

I doubt it.

"You asked God to protect you from your enemies back there."

"Did I?" She squints adorably, screwing up her face as if trying to remember. Moonlight illuminates the silvery length of her scar running down her cheek. I reach my hand out to touch her, and this time, she doesn't flinch. This time, she places her hand atop mine.

My heart swells.

"What did I say?"

I repeat in a high-pitched voice. " ?Ay, Dios mío, protégeme de todos mis enemigos! "

She playfully punches my arm. "My father used to say that. I didn't even realize that I did it. Where did you learn Spanish? You speak it beautifully."

I shrug. "It's one of my many talents."

I see no evidence of anyone following us, so I carry our bags to the main desk and head inside. A scrawny teen with a scraggly beard sits at the main desk. It's an older place but clean, with only one car in the main parking lot.

The teen behind the desk barely glances up as I approach, his attention glued to his phone screen.

I drop the bags on the counter, getting his attention. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in my size. Renata lingers just behind me, assessing the situation.

"I need a room." My voice is flat, leaving no room for an argument.

The kid fumbles with the computer and frowns as he taps the keys. "Uh, yeah. I might have one or two available." He raises a brow. "One queen or two doubles."

I lean in closer. "My wife and I would like a queen. No kings?"

"We don't have kings here."

The kid's eyes flicker nervously to Renata before quickly returning to the screen. Renata clears her throat and catches my attention. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she shakes her head at me.

"Are you sure about that?" she asks, her voice molten honey as she laces her hands around my arm. "I thought I read on the online that you had king-sized beds." She leans in closer. "My husband barely fits on a queen himself, never mind when I join him."

"Right, uh, we might, but I think we're out…" he stammers.

I turn my arm over, showcasing Bratva ink. "You sure about that?" I ask calmly, belying the threat. This asshole's used to throwing his weight around and bullying people just for the hell of it.

"I, uh… let me check again. I might have one more…"

I lean in slightly, looming over him. "Good idea," I murmur. With shaking hands, he finally produces a key. "Here you go. Room 214, the one with a kitchenette."

He pushes the key toward us.

"Free continental breakfast in the main lobby in the morning. Enjoy your stay."

He gets up and flees the desk.

"Thank you," Renata calls out to his retreating back.

We make our way to our room. "Why did he lie to us? That's strange," she says, shaking her head. "He was hiding something."

"I'm not really that strange. A kid like him iss probably on a drug dealer's payroll and instructed to keep the larger rooms open for deals and other ‘activities'. We'll have to keep an eye out."

She sniffs. "Yeah. It seems like that's sort of the order of the day, isn't it?" We stop outside the room with the number 214 emblazoned on the door.

"Mmm," I tell her. I lean over and kiss her forehead. "I chose this place for its vantage point. I've got this. I'll keep watch. No one's getting past me."

I open the door, pleased to find it simple and aged but impeccably clean. "This will do," I say with a shrug, tossing our bags down.

"Little seven-year-old me would've thought she died and went to heaven ," Renata says with a smile, inspecting the bathroom. "There are even little bottles of shampoo and conditioner in here. I thought only super-rich people got to stay places. My father simply didn't trust anyone enough to go to a motel."

I grunt. I know the feeling.

I pull out my phone, checking to see if there are any updates from Aleks. Nothing new.

Just as I'm about to put my phone away, a message pops up from Polina. I open it to find a whole stream of pictures of Renata's puppy attacking a stuffed tiger, rolling in the grass, and curled up, sleeping in a little dog bed.

"What's got that smile on your face?" Renata asks curiously. Am I smiling? "I'm scared to find out. Could be anything from a stupid meme to the death of an enemy." She's stepping out of her clothes, momentarily distracting me. I reach for her and cup her ass, drawing her close to me while I show her the phone.

"King Arthur in all his kingly glory!" she says with a grin. "Aw, wook at dat sweet wittle face. I can't wait to see him again." Her eyes are bright with affection, a glimpse of the innocence I'm fighting to protect.

I toss the phone aside and pull her onto my lap. "We will. It's good to see you smiling. I want to make you happy."

She straddles my lap and frames my face with her small, delicate hands. "What makes you happy, Ollie?"

I blow out a breath. "You. Here. Safe."

Her heart-shaped face tips to the side. "Do old motel rooms make you happy, Ollie ?"

I kiss her fingertips. "I treasure moments like this—quiet, safe, knowing no one can touch us here."

"Are they rare in your world?" She holds my gaze with hers.

I swallow and nod. "Yeah, baby."

One thing I love about her is the way she can seemingly hold two emotions at the same time. Right now, she's looking at me with both understanding and sadness in her eyes. "It's my world too. I get it."

Her fingers trail down the side of my neck. I stifle a groan, my cock rock hard beneath her ass. She obviously notes this with a teasing smile and she grinds her ass seductively on my lap.

"Behave," I grunt and slap her ass. That doesn't help my erection. She bites her lip and leans in, brushing her lips against mine in a kiss that quickly deepens. My hunger for her grows with every layer we strip back, the need building for too long. I lose myself to her, wrapped up in the sweet taste of her, the delicate scent of floral laced with citrus, the warmth of her hot pussy separated from me by a thin layer of fabric.

When she pulls back just enough to breathe, she smiles at me. "No."

A mischievous glint lights her eyes when I fist her hair. "Did you just say no to me?" My heart beats faster.

She licks her lips. "You heard me." She lifts my arm, kisses my bicep, then extricates herself like a magician. She giggles as if she got away with something, a teasing glint in her eyes as if she's daring me to chase her—as if I can't reach her in two steps and won't spank her pretty little ass raw for her troubles.

The large window has thin curtains that don't quite close all the way. Moonlight filters through.

"Don't you fucking dare, Renata."

Outside, the world is quiet and dark, but behind her, there's a parking lot and a distant road.

"Dare what?" she asks with wide-eyed innocence. " This ?"

She stands by the partially open window and tugs off her top. Anyone outside would get a full view of her naked back and bra strap. Her silhouette framed by moonlight, bold and unafraid, like she's daring the world to watch her. I watch as her fingers trail over the white-edged underside of her bra.

"Renata," I say warningly. Her gaze never leaves mine as I stand and unfasten my belt. She takes off the rest of her clothes before I can reach her, and they fall to the floor in a heap.

Her body is all curves and shadows and calls to me like a beacon. She knows exactly what she's doing, pushing me, testing the boundaries I've drawn. She slowly draws the curtains back, fully exposing her naked flesh to the world beyond the room.

She's crossed a line.

She gives me a sly smile, daring me to do something about it.

Turning away from the window, she arches her back as if offering herself to me. The sight of her exposed like this sends a rush of heat through me. My belt slides through its loops with a hiss, and her gaze flickers to it, a spark of anticipation in her eyes mixed with fear.

"I've been way too lenient with you," I scold, doubling the belt over in my hand. "What makes you think you can behave like this and get away with it? Obviously, I haven't done my duty as your husband."

She bites her lip, her eyes burning with desire, and doesn't answer, but the challenge in her gaze is clear. I close the small space between us, grip her wrist, and yank her back from the window. She gasps as I bend her over my knee and pin her down. My hand flattens on the small of her back, easily keeping her in place. Fire thrums through my veins.

"You've pushed me too far this time, and now you're going to see what happens when you cross a line I set for you, Renata."

She glances over her shoulder, her eyes dark with anticipation, her lips curled in a come-hither smile. "Ohh, I'm so scared ."

I narrow my eyes at her, lift my knee to give me better access, and relish the way her hands flail out in front of her to brace herself on thin air before I snap the folded belt across her ass. My cock aches at the way she squeals and tries to squirm out of my grip, but I hold fast. I do it again, harder this time, loving the way her body tenses and she moans.

"You crave this, don't you? Being over my knee, knowing your mine to control and punish." My breath is hot against her ear.

"I love it when you take control," she whispers, her body softening against me. I bring down the belt again, a sharp crack that makes her gasp, her fingers digging into me. The sound echoes in the small room. I flick the belt again and again, hard enough to redden her pretty ass but holding myself back with effort.

When her ass is seared a pretty cherry red, and she's panting heavily, slick cream coating her inner thighs, I slide the belt between her legs. "Mmm. Beautiful. I love the way you look when I punish you."

I ease the belt to her clit and tap. She squeals and wriggles. "Are you going to be a good girl?" I ask, tapping her pussy again, harder this time. Her back arches, and I swear she's on the edge of climax.

"Yes," she gasps.

"That's what I want to hear. Touch yourself, angel. Stroke your clit."

She reaches for her pussy and quickly finds her folds. She strokes upward, moaning when she finds her swollen clit. I hold her against my knee, drop my belt, and cup her hot ass with my hand. "You're wet, Renata. Did your spanking turn you on?"

"Oh God, yes ," she moans out, her hand moving faster between her legs.

"Good girl. I want you to crave my discipline. Touch yourself. Keep going. Don't you dare fucking stop." I slap the underside of her thigh. Her hips buck, and she whimpers with need. I hold her against me and lift my belt. "If you stop, I'll spank you raw and leave you wanting. Don't push me, woman."

"I'm not—going—to— stop ." She moans.

"Good girl," I say approvingly. I give her another sharp smack. "I'm gonna have my work cut out for me keeping you in line, aren't I?" I strap her again. She moans again, blissed out, hardly able to respond.

"Yes," she breathes in a whisper.

She strokes with frantic movements, now on the cusp of release.

"Don't you dare fucking come. You must beg me first."

"Please!" she says in an impassioned whisper. " Please, Ollie. I need to come. I'm going to come."

"No, you're not, you haven't proven your loyalty to me yet. Keep touching yourself and don't stop."

I strap her ass hard again with my belt. The way it stings and her perfectly plump ass jiggles make me so fucking hard I can't help but bend and bite the pink imprint it leaves behind. She writhes almost uncontrollably under me, torn between obeying me and just ending the torture I'm imposing on her.

"Oh god, Ollie, no. Please baby. I can't hold it. Let me come, please. You can't do this to me. Arghhh. Jesus Christ, fuck, shit, ahhh… Ollie, please … please, please let me come. "

She screams, and I slap ass yet again. "Not. Yet. I need to know in my bones you are mine and will do whatever I tell you regardless of how much you must suffer. Show me that all of you belongs to me, Renata."

"I'll do whatever you say, I'll give you everything, I'll never disobey you… oh my god, please I'm begging you… let me come, please !" she pants uncontrollably, body shaking, a fierce moan building deep in her chest as spasms begin to overtake her completely.

"Come for me. Come for me now, baby."

Renata arches her back and comes so hard her whole body shakes and spasms as if she's being electrocuted. It takes all of my strength to hold her down as I shove my fingers deep into her core and pump, my hand sopping wet. The walls of her pussy clench around me, crushing my fingers with her eager spasms. She's still coming a full minute later as she screams my name in ecstasy over and over again.