Gabriel's Regret: Book Two (The Medlov Men 3)

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Gabriel's Regret: Book Two (The Medlov Men 3) Page 10

by Latrivia Welch


  Royal’s eyes locked onto his limp six-inch member before he covered it with his robe. Despite everything that was happening, she craved the touch of her husband, especially at the idea of him heading into more danger. Kicking off her heels, she nestled into the bed. “I met with Valeriya for a while.”

  “Really, what do you think of her?” Dmitry asked, slinking across the large king-sized bed to rest his head in her lap. He rolled over on his back and looked up at her.

  She touched the side of his face and looked down into his blue eyes, glimmering up at her with worry. “I thought she was refreshingly unique.” Her voice was low. “Very calm for the most part, considering everything that is happening around her. And capable.” There was no need to mention that Valeriya was also heavy-handed and slapped the shit out of Briggy during their first confrontation. “What do you think of her?”

  Dmitry raised his chin and reached an arm up to touch her heart shaped lips. He liked to watch her talk, the way her lips formed around her words and the way her breath smelled like fresh mint. “I think she’s formidable.”

  “Formidable enough to trust?” Royal asked.

  Dmitry knew that she was getting at something. “What’s on your mind?”

  “She wants to go back and get Gabriel,” Royal said, holding Dmitry in place, just in case he tried to bolt and argue.

  Dmitry let out a deep breath. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “Why?” Royal asked, pushing the issue. “She’s not new to war. In fact, she was a leader, from what I heard.”

  “She never even got a chance to be the leader,” Dmitry argued. “Plus, she’s a woman, for goodness sake. We don’t take women into war with us.”

  “The world is changing.”

  “It hasn’t changed that much.” Sitting up, Dmitry pushed up against the backboard of the bed. “What if she gets killed? Gabriel risked his life to keep her safe. If we put her back in harm’s way, then it defeats his purpose.”

  Royal rubbed her hands together and sat back beside him. “If she were a man, would you trust her to go back and do what she could to help?”

  Dmitry blinked slowly, brooding at her insolence. Staring at the television across the room, he bit the inside of his lip and said nothing.

  She kept her gaze on his side profile, watching him clench his square jaw. Blonde wet, perfectly-cut hair clung to the nape of his thick neck and curled like golden feathers atop his head. The arrogant slant of his flawless nose was more pronounced as he suppressed a scowl and the tips of his ears had turned red with agitation. Still, she argued her point, despite his agitation. “You have to use every resource that you have to get him back. She is a resource and you know it. Not to mention, if you would take your first born son with you there is nothing lost by taking a woman that you barely know.” Royal softened her voice and gave an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be stubborn on this, Dmitry. She wants to go back, and she wants to help. Truthfully, I can’t blame her. She loves him.”

  “Love is not a requisite for war,” Dmitry chided, chest swelling. He finally looked over at her, accusing her with his glare. He knew his wife, and this wasn’t her way. “Did she put you up to this?”

  “Yes,” Royal said honestly and completely unafraid of the consequences. “But I wouldn’t have brought it to you if I didn’t think it was a good idea.” Putting her head over on Dmitry’s large arm, she took his hand in hers to get a better look at his wounds.

  His knuckles wore fresh cuts, probably made by punching whoever was unfortunate enough to end up in his barn. “I know how you feel about involving women and children in business, and normally, I would agree, but this is different. This is personal. This is family. She has a right to defend what she loves, and she has a right to fight. All women don’t want to be cuddled and protected. Some women are at their best when they are allowed to simply do what they do best. What Valeriya does best is fight.”

  There was a low chuckle. “And you know her so well after one meeting?” Dmitry asked, rubbing a hand through her hair. He did admire how persuasive she could be when she really wanted something, but he was not certain that this was something he should give her.

  “No, I don’t know her, but I know love, and I know how powerful love can be.” Royal looked up at him and put her hand around the back of his neck. Pulling him to her, she kissed his lips gently, savoring the taste of it. Pulling away slightly, she put her forehead against his. “Just say that you’ll consider it.”

  Without a second thought, he responded without inflection. “I’ll consider it.”

  Royal knew that his word was his bond and that there was no more to say on the matter. “Thank you. I know you love him, Dmitry. And I can only imagine what all of this must be doing to you, but I want you to understand that we all feel the same way. I never really have much to say about Gabriel…because of his father. But he isn’t his father. And over time, I’ve grown to love him as well. He means as much to this family as any of us. Sure, he’s the goofy one – making all of his jokes, playing with the kids, bringing all of his girlfriend drama home – but in a way, he is the one member of our family that keeps us human.”

  Dmitry had never heard Royal speak of Gabriel with such warm regard. Maybe previously it had been a part of her defense mechanism against the pains that Ivan had brought into her life. Maybe over time, she had learned to guard her feelings about anyone outside of him and her children as much as he had. But he appreciated and very much needed to hear her love for Gabriel. Reaching out he touched the scar still very visible across her throat – the scar that Ivan had left with his blade. “I’m the head of the family. It is my job to protect you – all of you – and I feel like yet again I’ve failed you. How many times can a man fail his family?”

  Shock crossed her face. Is that what he thought? A frown creased her delicate features. “You haven’t failed us, Dmitry. You don’t control the world,” Royal said, wishing she could take his guilt from him. “No matter how much money you have, no matter how many people are on your payroll, you are still not in control of everything and everyone in the world.” She nodded at him as if revealing a secret that he did not know. “And that’s okay.”

  “I’m not worried about the entire world or controlling it. I’m worried about you. I’m worried about my family and making sure that you don’t spend every waking moment of your lives in fear because you chose to love me.” He still did not fully understand why she loved him, but that was a whole other conversation. “Our family is growing exponentially, every year. And you know that was always a dream of mine, but for each and every person that carries my name, I need to make sure they are safe and taken care of.” The words made him think of the son he had never met in Miami and how yet again he had failed a child of his. Unable to look at Royal because of his secret and his failure, he tried to get up from the bed and excuse himself.

  “No,” Royal said, snatching him back roughly. “You can’t run from me.”

  “Baby.” He shook his head in protest. “You don’t understand…”

  Her voice cracked and broke. “I understand that I love you and nothing can change that.” Holding his face in her hands while she sat up on her knees, she kissed him again. “Tell me you love me,” she whispered. The idea of losing him this time overwhelmed her and hot, salty tears pricked her eyes.

  “I love you,” Dmitry whispered back, kissing her deeply, trying to console her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her into his embrace. “I love you so damn much it hurts.”

  The fire inside of him began to erupt outward. Without another word, he attacked. Picking her up by her bottom, he laid her on the bed and nestled in between her thick voluptuous thighs, kissing her neck and the scar across it.

  Royal’s eyes closed as she listened to his breath against her ear, it was ragged and hard like he was going to tear her apart. She wanted him to, needed him to feel the void growing inside of her at the thought of him leaving again.

  “Take me, t
ake me,” she muttered, begging for possession.

  His hands roamed over her body hungrily before he found the zipper on the back of her dress and slid it down past her long, shapely legs. Coming back to her quickly, he caressed her skin gently as he watched her take off her black lace bra first to reveal voluptuous round breasts made larger by his three children and then she slid off her black thongs. His mouth watered for her taste. It always did. Her nectar was the single most addictive thing that he had ever experienced. Dipping his head, he trailed a kiss from her lips to her shoulders, making goosebumps form on her skin with plans of eventually getting down between her thighs.

  The ache inside of her grew at the thought of finally having him inside of her where he belonged. His large body hovered over hers like a giant beast stalking its prey before it devoured its meal.

  Being under Dmitry was always exhilarating. His smell. His look. His undeniable sensuality. Opening her legs wider to feel him up against her, she arched her back and undulated below him.

  Pulling his robe down his broad shoulders, she helped him inch it down his body until he was naked. Twelve steely inches of manhood pointed toward her opening. Sitting on his knees in the bed, he grabbed her by her thighs and yanked her up on his lap. He slid a digit in between her legs to the shaved secret garden waiting for him and felt the wetness glistening and dripping down the folds of her entry.

  She was ready for him and he was pulsing at the thought of taking her. “Fuck me,” she ordered, eyes crazed. “Fuck me hard.”

  Her request sent him mad with blind lust.

  Digging his hands into her meaty hips, he fisted himself and slipped the tip of his hard member inside of her, watching her paw at him for more. Then inch by inch, he made her take him all the way down to the hilt.

  The sound of the television slowly disappeared. Royal’s mouth parted in ecstasy when he was fully inside of her, filling her body to the very brim. Over the years, she had grown use to his particular brand of sexual pleasure.

  Hard and rough, then soft and sweet. Sometimes both at the same time. Today, however, she needed him to make it hurt.

  With splayed arms and hair fanned over the bed, her sex clenched around his mighty erection and then spasmed as he started to move in and out of her forcefully, powerfully, jolting her body over and over again until she could barely take the command of his paralyzing strokes. This was what she wanted, to make him forget everything around him for just a while. To clear his mind long enough for him to remember the pleasure of life and why he needed to return to it. To be completely hers, when he needed her most. It was her duty as his wife and her mission as his lover.

  Chapter Five

  What is Done in the Dark…

  Nadei was normally a calculating man, one who most of the time didn’t make mistakes and didn’t lose a fight. In the past, he had prided himself on those attributes and so had the people who depended upon him. However, lately, despite his best efforts, he was on a losing streak, making one poor decision after the other. These mistakes were eating at him like a cancer, and had he been a weak man, he would have folded under the pressure. But Nadei was as hard as nails around the edges, stubborn to his core and ambitious about his career. So instead of giving up, he had plans to redeem himself.

  Anatoly’s second-chance and Dmitry’s blessing would allow him to secure his place in the family and eventually regain the respect of his men. Hard work would eventually wipe away his imperfections. And time would eventually heal all scars. However, there were other issues that were lying in wait, ready to destroy everything that he had built besides his error in Donetsk, and the window was closing to fix those things. He had to act now.

  Lunch had already been served for everyone in the house, but Briggy’s assigned maid said that she wanted a late-afternoon snack to soothe her stomach woes. After the fight with Valeriya earlier, she had evidently gotten physically ill and the lunch she had ordered and eaten, ending up in the toilet. It was the perfect opportunity for Nadei – one that he had been waiting on since he had seen her earlier – to address his axiomatic cancer.

  The one thing about wait staff that remained ever constant was that they gossiped when no one was looking about everyone in the house. Sharing information about their patrons was a pastime in the kitchen and cleaning rooms that was rarely missed and always enjoyed. Briggy and her dramatic outburst earlier had been the discussion of the day. She was pregnant, 22 weeks along, and the glass house she had built around herself was shattering in slow motion. He listened from outside the door as Briggy’s maid went on and on about how she had left Prague a maid and returned a monster. The women cackled as the maid pretended to be Briggy, mocking her accent and her incessant orders.

  “Monster!” the maid finally exclaimed.

  She hadn’t been wrong in her assessment. Briggy was, by far, the worse type of woman – a cunning, gold-digger with ambitions of long, life comfort. He had seen through her the first time that he laid eyes on her, but he couldn’t deny his attraction and his preference for blondes. Both weaknesses finally caught up to him.

  He waited for 10 minutes, standing quietly outside of the kitchen door, soaking up all of the servant Intel before finally the frumpy maid emerged with a cart of food to deliver to her mistress.

  “What’s that?” Nadei asked, pretending to be just walking by.

  The maid stopped, eyes wide, startled at his presence. “It’s… Bridgette’s meal.” She watched as Nadei lifted the silver platter cover and looked at the food. “I was just about to take it to her.”

  “Took you a little longer than usual. Too busy gossiping about her, eh?” Intentionally, he gave her a scowl meant to frighten her about her chattering just moments before.

  The maid hesitated, eyes darting away in guilt. “I…Forgive me. It was not appropriate.” Her head dipped, praying that her mouth had not cost her job.

  Nadei sighed like he was irritated with her. “I’ll take the food up to Briggy. In the future, keep her business out of your mouth, or I’ll have you reported.”

  Unable to speak clear words, the maid nodded and headed back into the kitchen.

  He grabbed the railing of the cart and pushed it down to the elevator door. Now, he had a reason to be on the guest wing of the house. If the security guards saw him over the cameras pushing this cart, then it wouldn’t be questioned, and if it was, then he’d simply blame the maid’s yammering on his decision to take it up to her himself. After all, he was simply looking out for Gabriel’s interests in his absence.

  As the elevator opened to Briggy’s floor, Nadei pushed the cart out into the hall, where a guard was sitting with his weapon watching the floor. He looked perplexed at Nadei as he emerged with the food. Standing up, he pushed his rifle to the side and looked down at the food.

  “Where’s the maid?” the guard asked.

  “I sent her to do something else,” Nadei answered casually. “I’m taking this down to the woman.” His eyes warned the guard not to push past his position by asking any more questions. “Carry on,” Nadei ordered, moving past him.

  There was one great thing about the Vor structure, specifically when it came to the Medlov Organization. Unless you moved up the ranks, the only thing you were good for was taking orders. The guard, knowing this, nodded and took a seat to resume his duties without further questions.

  As Nadei moved down the hall to Briggy’s room, he felt his hard began to pound harder and harder in his chest. His tattooed hands clenched the railing of the cart until they turned white. But he kept his composure, just in case the guard was watching. He didn’t want to give off any more red flags, just delivering her food was enough. To seem emotional in any way might create conversation in circles that were less easily intimidated.

  He tapped the door with his knuckles and waited for permission to enter.

  “Come in,” Briggy’s voice called out from behind the large oak door.

  Grasping the brass knob, he opened the door and pushed the ca
rt inside. She had pulled the curtains to the room so that it was dark, increasing the intensity of the gloomy, woe-is-me mood set by a woman dying for attention and pity. Well, Nadei could not give her pity, but he definitely could give her attention.

  Briggy was lying in bed in her robe with her head faced toward the wall under her covers as the television played and the fan in the corner rotated around the room. The only light in the dim space came from the bathroom, where she had made several visits in the last hour.

  “Put it by the desk and leave me,” she ordered, voice fragile and broken from many hours of sobbing into her damp pillows.

  Nadei closed the door behind him and slowly, quietly locked it. He didn’t want any interruptions for what he was about to say.

  Pushing the cart to the sitting table on the opposite side of the room by the window, he placed the food for her to eat later. Barely making a sound with steps, he moved over to the queen canopy bed veiled in curtains, pulled and tied to the posts. Her petite body looked even smaller under the large comforter as she cradled in the fetal position. It was a shame that such an inadequate person created such a Biblical mess. In silence, he waited for her turn toward him.

  Briggy laid there for a moment until she felt eyes on her back. Turning in the bed, she rolled over, prepared to give her maid a tongue lashing, until she saw Nadei.

  He gave her the look of “surprise.”

  Her eyes immediately flashed with anger and possibly fear. Sitting up, she was about to scream, when Nadei launched into the bed and covered her mouth with his large hand.

  Inhaling breaths from her flared nostrils, she looked into his wild brown eyes, unsure of what he would do next.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, but you have to keep your mouth closed,” he said, clenching her tightly. “Nod if you understand.”

  Briggy waited a minute and then nodded, watching his tattooed hands as he slowly retreated away from her. While Nadei had never seemed like a threat before, the six-foot three Adonis that sat in front of her definitely made her scared now. Eyeing the weapons in their holsters under his large biceps, she calmed herself slightly.

 

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