9. Kristof

The lighter clicks, and an amber color flares at the end of my cigarette. I breathe deeply, filling my lungs with the smoke, then I settle back against the couch, deeply sated.

A new sense of relaxation settles deep in my bones, and my anger toward Alena's recklessness fades away. There's nothing but a deep purr of satisfaction in my mind. I draw on my cigarette once more and glance at her.

She lies next to me, still panting like she's run a marathon. Her chest heaves, and her nipples are still stiff and pert. Tears dot her dark lashes from emotion that welled up near the end, and her lips are flushed ruby red. Her thighs still quiver, spread and relaxed on the couch, which gives me a full view of her pussy. My cum leaks slowly from her well-fucked entrance, and the purr inside me deepens.

I shouldn't have fucked her. Shouldn't have tasted her.

But I did. Now, there's no going back.

Slowly, Alena props up onto one elbow and fixes me with a bleary stare. The shift draws my eyes to her breasts as they sway slightly, and now, my claiming bite mark on her shoulder stands stark against her pale skin.

She's mine.

"Can I have one?" Her sparkling eyes lock onto my cigarette.

"No."

"Why not?"

I almost tell her she's too young to gain such a terrible habit, but the words catch in my throat. It likely would have no effect given what's just happened.

"Because I said so."

"Fine." There's a slightly petulant air to her response.

Alena sinks back down into the couch and moves to close her legs. I stop her with a single touch to her warm thigh. I want to see her pussy. I want to see every inch of her body and all the marks I left behind.

"Pervert," she murmurs softly, then a dreamy sigh escapes her lips, followed by a small hiccup. No matter how good the sex was, the alcohol in her veins still clearly has a hold.

I drag on my cigarette again, just watching her through the clouds of smoke. She trails one hand over her abdomen, up to the red marks left around her breast by my hand. Hunger rears inside me, a desire to sink forward and follow that path with my teeth and tongue. I'm addicted, and I want to consume her until there's nothing left.

One taste, and my infatuation with her has grown into a full-blown obsession.

"That was… amazing." She sighs softly. "I feel…" She pauses.

I lift a brow. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm made of air," she replies after a few seconds of silence. Her gaze turns upward, and her other hand settles back on her abdomen. "A little sore, but oh, God… I never knew it could feel so fucking good."

"Your first time?" I know it is, and yet I want to hear it. I want to hear that my cock claimed her, ruined her for anyone else.

"Yes." Her eyes dart down and lock on me. "You took my virginity."

"You're welcome."

She chuckles and then coughs slightly. It spurs me into action, and I rise, crossing the room to one of the sleek black cabinets that melts into the wall. Pushing on the top corner, the door swings open, and I retrieve a bottle of water then stab out my cigarette in the glass dish inside. Settling back next to Alena, I crack the seal and pass it over to her.

"Drink."

"Is there alcohol in this?" She rolls her head across the armrest, and her messy hair creates an almost halo.

"No, it's water. Drink it."

She accepts it and slowly sits up to drink just as my phone buzzes in my pocket. My usually calm heart jumps slightly, but it's only a text from Ivan to let me know he's collected Katja.

Of course.

In my cloud of lust and desire, I'd forgotten about the entire problem that created this situation. I glance at Alena as she drinks hungrily, then I send Ivan a response asking him to bring a jacket to room C. Alena's underwear is ruined, and there's no way I'm walking her naked through the club. As he confirms, I message another driver I know and request a limo to meet me at the back of the club.

I can't use my own car.

Not if I want to keep her.

Ivan and Nastja are the only two people in the world whom I trust, and I know Ivan won't judge me. He knows of my feelings for Alena, feelings that slipped out during a beer on our private jet several months ago. He had been amused and sympathetic.

"My bra!" Alena exclaims, and my attention snaps back to her. She's leaning over the edge of the couch, picking up the snapped strands of her bra. My eyes wander down the slope of her back to the curve of her ass, and my mouth runs dry. If I had time, I would claim that hole until she couldn't walk.

Sadly, there isn't time.

"Don't worry about it," I tell her. "Sit up."

She grumbles to herself, sits up, and throws the bra at me. "You owe me new clothes."

"Understood." I chuckle softly, brushing the fabric away. "Are you cold?" I can see the flush of goosebumps on her skin, and she nods, folding her arms across her bare chest.

"A little."

Right on cue, knuckles rap against the door. Alena is too tipsy to care and simply huddles into the couch. I rise and wait. Three more knocks ring out two seconds later, confirming that it's Ivan, so I open the door.

"Kristof."

"Ivan. You have any problems with Katja?"

"No. Getting her back inside will be a breeze." He passes over a large coat, and as I accept it, my movement reveals Alena behind me, naked and distracted. Ivan's brow lifts, and he locks eyes with me.

"Brother, this is not a good idea."

"Don't. I have a plan."

"A good plan?" He snorts slightly. "Kristof, if you are caught?—"

"I won't be caught," I snap. "Trust me."

"I do," Ivan says immediately. "It's her I don't trust." His gaze flicks back to Alena.

"She won't be a problem. Trust me." I understand his concerns. If I am caught, then I will be killed or worse. And my siblings will find themselves adrift without a lifeguard. But I have a plan. A quickly cobbled-together, insane plan, but there's one certainty in my heart.

I'm not giving her up.

"Take Katja home. Make sure she stays quiet."

Ivan nods, turns on his heel, and strides away. His concern is noted but misplaced. Alena is mine. When I'm finished with her, she won't know any other truth. I deserve this for all the work I've put into this family.

And Alena?

She's too good for anyone else, certainly not Mikhail and his fucked-up family. When I'm finished with her, it'll be me she craves as much as she craves oxygen to breathe. She'll get wet at the mere sight of me, beg for my cock, and commit acts of filth just to get it.

My mind runs, and my cock tightens in my pants once more. I will myself back in control. First, I need to get her out of here.

"Alena."

Her bright eyes flick to me, and she smiles the sunniest, warmest smile that makes my usually stoic heart flutter ever so slightly.

"Here."

Holding out the jacket to her, my attention remains fixed on her as she leaps up from the couch and then stumbles as her legs struggle to obey her. Likely a mixture of the alcohol and my pounding of her core. She laughs and stumbles, shooting out a hand to my arm for balance. I catch her easily, and she giggles and accepts the coat.

"You fucked me so hard I can't walk." She grins.

"I'll fuck you harder next time," I say softly.

Alena laughs and works her way into the coat, slowly hiding her beautiful body from my view. I'm irrationally jealous of the fabric being able to touch her all over. Soon.

Frustration still simmers under my skin from her recklessness, and while her running away has presented me with a golden opportunity, her drunken state suggests the lesson hasn't sunk in. She wobbles away from me, and I catch her arm, pulling her close. Her gaze flicks up to me, and she smiles widely again and then slowly licks her lips. It's like she's teasing me, and heat licks up my spine.

"Come on," I instruct, and I slide my arm over her shoulders, tucking her smaller form against me. She clutches at the edges of her coat, holding it closed.

"Where are we going?" she asks, stumbling against me slightly as we leave the room.

"Home."

"Oh, God," Alena groans softly. "Father is going to kill me." She brushes her hair away from her forehead and sighs deeply.

She's right. If he finds out, he'll probably kill us both. But that's not the home I'm taking her to.

Alena is coming with me.

And she's not going to leave.

I lead her down the dark corridor toward the back entrance. It's very discreet and often used by people hoping to slip away unnoticed after a night of festivities, so it fits us perfectly. Alena stays by my side until we step outside, and only then does she voice a complaint as her bare feet step onto the cold stone steps.

"Mmm, can't we go back inside?" she asks, resisting slightly as I lead her down the steps. The weight and pressure of my arm remain absolute, so she has no choice but to follow.

"Once you're in the car, you'll feel much better," I tell her.

Still, she grumbles and resists slightly. "I don't want to go back home. I don't want to stop yet. Can't we…" She stops on the last step and grabs my shirt, pulling me close in an unexpected twist. I'm on the ground, and the step gives her some extra height. Her eyes flick over my face, and she sucks her lower lip into her mouth.

"Can't we have sex again? One more time?"

"You're insatiable," I growl softly. She really doesn't want to go back, does she? "Get in the limo, Alena."

"But—"

"In!" I bark. She rolls her eyes and finally steps down. Alcohol makes her bold, it seems, and brings out an attitude that pushes my buttons in all the right ways. Brattiness excites me, but only because pounding obedience into someone is something I excel at.

Alena will learn.

I open the door, and she slides into the limo, still grumbling under her breath. Closing the door, I approach the driver and reel off my address, then I join Alena in the limo. She sits with her arms crossed, clearly in a sour mood. She captivates me, and I watch her as, at the touch of a button, the privacy glass slides up, separating us from the driver.

The windows are tinted, but the last thing I need now is for Alena to notice that we're not going back to the Estate. I need to separate her so she doesn't catch on until we're at a point where her refusal won't matter.

"Alena."

She ignores me, stubbornly staring out the window. I hate being ignored.

I lean over swiftly, grab her thigh, and jerk her down swiftly so her back hits the seat. She squeals in surprise.

"I don't like being ignored," I state sharply. She stares up at me, swollen lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asks, her chest heaving.

What, indeed?