by Alexa Riley
Chapter Nine
Anya
I don’t want to leave heaven. But I have no choice.
And it really is heaven.
I wake up wrapped in the inked arms of my Russian, his tongue tracing patterns on the back of my neck. My lower half wakes up with a vengeance, eager to please. To be pleased. The tightening of those delicate muscles hurts, though, from having Sasha inside me so many times since yesterday. A flush moves over my cheeks remembering the things he said to me in the darkness last night. When we see your father someday in the future, you will call me Daddy, Anya. He will know I’ve claimed his little girl in every way imaginable, and his responsibility to you is gone. If he needs convincing, he’ll take the place of the priest next time.
My agreement, my screams echo in my ears, and wetness trickles onto the material of my panties. Sasha’s chest rumbles at my back, but his mouth makes a reluctant noise.
“I want nothing more than to watch you ride my cock for the first time, angel, but you will recover for a while first.” He laughs into my hair, a wickedly decadent sound. “Plus, I know what happens when you don’t eat breakfast on time.”
Wrinkling my nose, I roll over and shove at his big shoulder. “What happens?”
“You pout at Sasha. You stomp around and cannot focus on your reading.”
This is the first I’m hearing of this. “I do not.”
His indulgent smile sends my pulse racing. “Da, angel. You never stop being cute, but I prefer a happy Anya.” A coarse hand roams over my bare hip. “I prefer when you’re smiling because it means I’ve done my job and pleased you.”
As sweet as this sounds, this is the crux of our problem. Do I love that Sasha has made my happiness his life’s work? Of course. He’s my husband now, and his happiness is very important to me, too. But…sometimes I want to be responsible for my own happiness. I want to figure out my own meals. Plans. Bathing suits. I want to have an individual goal as a woman, as well as goals as a couple. Making him understand this is going to take more than words, though. If I’ve learned one thing about Sasha, it’s that he’s stubborn and tunes me out when I’m saying words he doesn’t want to hear.
Which is why I’ve formed a plan.
Some of my apprehension must be showing on my face, because Sasha frowns. “What is the matter? Tell me so I can fix.”
“Nothing is the matter,” I say, mimicking his accent and earning a lip twitch. “What are our plans for the day?”
He sighs, massaging my hip now with a lazy thumb. “I must spend some time in my office downstairs making phone calls.”
“To whom?”
For a few quiet moments, he seems to be cataloguing my features. “I am not a man who is accustomed to working behind a desk, Anya, but when I met you and decided to build the house, it became obvious I would need to pursue a more…practical line of work.” Humor twists his mouth. “I will be checking on my investments.”
A giggle climbs my throat. “My hit man has been making investments.”
“Da. Lucrative ones.” His dark eyebrows draw together. “I was not sure if you were aware of the duties I performed for your father at night. Or back in Russia.”
“I’m aware.” I slide closer and rub my breasts against his hairy chest, gasping when he yanks my hips closer to his. “I’d love you no matter your profession. But I’m grateful you did something outside your comfort zone. For us.”
“There is nothing outside my comfort zone, Anya.” He rolls one massive shoulder. “Except, perhaps, Justin Bieber concerts.”
I break into a fit of laughter, and after a couple beats, Sasha joins me. It’s a heavy, rusted sound, but it’s amazing and I wish I could roll around in it forever. A pang catches me in the middle when I remember what must be done. What I have to do this morning in order to set the correct boundaries between us. If my heart were the only thing in charge, I would never leave this bed or my husband. My brain is on board, too, though.
When our amusement dies down, a serious look crosses Sasha’s face. “Anya, I need you to know. These men I handled for your father and in Russia…they are not good people. I would die before letting a single one of them cross your shadow.”
My fingertips trace his mouth, his cheekbones. “I trust you.”
Intensity radiates from his gray eyes. “My God, I love you, little angel.”
Dread twists in my chest. “I love you, too.” Perceptive as ever when it comes to my moods and emotions, Sasha gives me an assessing look, so I search for another topic. Something to explain my sad tone. As it turns out, there is something that has been on my mind, and this is the perfect opportunity to discuss it. “Will you do something for me, please?”
“Tell me.”
I run the arch of my foot up and down his calf, my fingers playing with his chest hair. Between us, his erection thickens, his breath accelerating. “While you’re in the office today, will you call my father and explain that we’re together now?” His body stiffens, but I press on. “I know he hasn’t been there for me, Sasha. Raising me has been left entirely to you…” I lower my voice to a whisper. “My real daddy.”
“Anya,” he groans. “Say it again.”
Our tongues meet and lick. “You’re my real daddy,” I murmur. “But…I don’t want to hide us from him. I want the whole world to know. Especially my father.”
His stubbornness tries to surface, but he visibly fights it off. “Very well.”
“Really?”
“Da.” He studies me. “When I asked, instead of demanded, that you marry me, I found that things went much smoother. Perhaps I am learning to compromise.”
Tell him. Tell him you still want to attend college. He hasn’t cancelled it yet. The words won’t emerge, though. Because while Sasha is starting to compromise on some small things, I’m skeptical that he will agree to me being away from him full time, every day. With strangers. Unknowns. In a nutshell, he would lose his shit. No. I have to stick to the plan.
And the plan is this: let me go to college or lose me.
Knowing Sasha will be able to read me like a book, I roll over on my back with a pout. “Who do I have to marry to get some scrambled eggs around here?”
With a wink and a laugh, Sasha climbs from the bed, his hard - as - nails ass flexing as he leaves the room. I gather as much courage as I can for the fight ahead, then get up to shower.
* * *
Sasha
Having completed all my other phone calls, I can no longer put off the final one.
I do not want to do this distasteful thing.
Perhaps Anya believes I am merely a possessive beast when it comes to her. So possessive that I would steal her away from her own father, just so I can be the only male in her life. And while that is most certainly true, there is more to it than that.
When Anya was much younger, I spent many nights pacing the hallway outside her bedroom, wishing to comfort her as she sobbed on the other side of the door, missing her mother. I was not capable of holding her in my arms yet, though. I was too hardened, then. Still recovering from the brutal life I’d lived in Russia. To have the angel in my arms at a time when I was so raw? I couldn’t be certain that I wouldn’t feast on the offering she presented. So sweet, so pure. The opposite of everything I’d ever known.
Her cries would torture me in those early days, make me tear at my hair. I would call her father and explain his daughter needed to be reassured. And often I would find him consoling himself with women or alcohol. He never came home. Never.
So I learned. I taught myself breathing exercises so I could let Anya sob in my arms without doing something to break my vow. Some nights, I even slept on the floor beside her bed, talking her through bad dreams, all while being tortured with bare thighs, her smooth, little bottom as she tossed and turned. By the time she turned sixteen and regularly began sneaking into my room during thunderstorms, I’d built up enough strength to withstand the fierce, consuming need to possess her. Soon, I would tell mysel
f.
Bottom line, it has been Anya and me for five years. We are one. I’m not sure what kind of father David was before I arrived, but he behaved like an irresponsible piece of shit when his daughter needed him. I will not forgive him for that. And I feel no guilt in making her my wife without his knowledge or consent.
Anya has wished him to be informed, however. It will make her pleased with me. So it will be done. Because it seems at age thirty - five, I can still learn new tricks.
Beneath the desk, my cock grows painfully thick, and I grip the hard flesh through my pants, thinking of the angel waiting for me once I finish this phone call. She will ask me if I’ve done as she requested, and I will answer by unzipping my pants. Ripping her out of whatever flimsy item of clothing she’s decided to tease me with today. Her smile will be the best part of all. If that’s not motivation to complete this unpleasant task, nothing is.
Snatching up the phone, I dial David’s number. He answers on the third ring.
“David Orlov.”
“Da.” I twist my neck to crack it. “This is Sasha.”
“Sasha!” A television blares in the background. “I was wondering when I would hear from you. How did the college drop - off go?”
“There was a change of plans.”
A pause. “What do you mean?”
Annoyed at having to explain myself, I drum my fingers on the desk. “Are you aware, David, that the agreement we made five years ago concluded last night at five o’clock?”
“Agreement…” I can almost see the light bulb going off. “Keeping Anya safe from my enemies, you mean?” His voice is guarded now. “Yes, I figured taking her to college would be your final task, before you returned here for work. Work more suited for someone of your experience.”
“There was more to the agreement. You know this well.”
The television is lowered as it dawns on him. The most difficult part of our agreement to keep was keeping Anya innocent of men. Innocent of myself. “All right,” he shouts. “What the fuck is going on?”
“First of all, please accept my resignation. Now. As an ex - employee, I find your language…threatening.” I lower my tone. A tone that many men have heard just before meeting their end. “You really don’t want to threaten me.”
There’s some harsh breathing from David. “Where’s my daughter?”
“Probably resting.” I massage my rigid dick. “She needs it badly.”
He sputters. “You — you’re fucking her. I can’t believe this.”
“Language,” I remind him, red pinpricks beginning to dot my vision. “You will listen very carefully. Anya is mine. I’ve cared for her when you would not. Despite my suffering, our vow remained intact until the agreed upon time. Any claim you had on her is hereby revoked.”
“You — ” Heavy pacing thunders down the line. “What about college? Who do you think will pay for that?”
“My accountant is putting a check in the mail reimbursing you for her tuition as we speak. You should receive it in the next day or so. I pay for all her needs now.” He begins to inquire about my finances, but I interrupt him. “You’ve been informed. Now I must go tend to my wife.” David stops breathing on the other end, his shock palpable. “She’s turning out to be quite insatiable. Just as I was hoping.”
“Jesus.” There’s a long pause. “Okay, look. Maybe I just need some time to get used to the idea of you and Anya together. Truth is, you’re my best debt collector, Sasha. I’ll let you keep the girl if you come back to work. No one else is remotely cutting it.”
“Let. Me. Keep her? Have you heard nothing I’ve told you?” I come to my feet, wishing for something to smash with my fists. “My ring is on her finger. She’s as good as bred.” He says nothing in response to that, and after I moment, I realize he’s still waiting for my answer. Whether or not I’ll come back to work. As always, his daughter comes in second place to his money and business dealings. Bastard. “You are too stupid to realize she’s the greatest treasure of all. If I have my way, you’ll never see her again.”
“So is that a no…?”
I hang up and toss my phone onto the desk in disgust. An urgency storms through me. I must go find Anya and tell her she is important. That she is the most precious thing in the whole world and I will cherish her until my dying breath. She needs to know.
But when I leave my office, I immediately sense something is wrong. The usual buzz of Anya’s energy is missing from the air. As are my car keys from the peg near the door.
When I stride to the front window and see my car is missing, my heart leaps from my chest. No. NO.
“Anya!”
That’s when I see the note folded on the living room coffee table. Like a desperate, dying man, I grab it and read.
Don’t freak out.
I’m only at orientation, where I’m supposed to be.
This is the only way to make you understand how important school is to me. That I will go at all costs — even turning you into an ogre. You can’t control every move I make, Sasha.
I will return to you tonight.
I will return to you every night, because I love you.
Nothing bad is going to happen.
Your Anya
Stumbling back, I read the note again. You can’t control every move I make.
I did this?
Yes. Loving her, giving her a beautiful life was my aim, but I drove her away instead. I didn’t learn how to compromise fast enough. How many times did she stare out the window as a growing girl and sigh, asking me what the other girls her age were doing? Countless times. She has been a prisoner her whole life, now I’ve done it to her again.
Turning my head, I stare out the window at the world beyond, going through a horrifying checklist of everything that could happen to my wife without me to protect her. By virtue of being kept sheltered so long, Anya has no idea what monsters lurk around every corner. But I do. I know too fucking well. And I can no more sit here waiting for her to come home like a patient husband than I could stop breathing.
Chapter Ten
Anya
I can barely catch my breath I’m so excited.
I’ve never seen this many faces, heard this many voices, all in one place. The college dean has just concluded her speech at the front of the room. There are packets in my hand. Who knew I could get so jazzed about packets? They contain vital information I’ll need for my first day of classes. A campus map, dining hall protocol, freshman FAQs.
My heart speeds into a dizzying rhythm in anticipation of reading through it all.
But it slows back down to a dull thud when I think of Sasha at home. He must be going out of his mind. Was I too impulsive? In a matter of one day, he’s shown so much progress in learning to meet me halfway, maybe I should have trusted him to be reasonable. At the very least, I could have persuaded him to come with me to orientation so he could see how non - menacing an auditorium full of nervous freshman is in reality.
If I had a cell phone like a normal person, I would call him now. Let him know I’m okay and heading home. On the drive to school, I only took four wrong turns. Not bad for my first time using GPS, right?
Maybe I’ll leave that part out.
“Hey.”
I turn to find a group of fellow freshman approaching, some male, some female. They’re all smiling. At me. “Uh…” I adjust my load of glorious packets. “Hi.”
“I’m Carter,” says one of the boys. “And you are?”
I try to pretend I don’t notice him staring at my breasts, but it becomes increasingly difficult when he keeps staring. All of the boys are staring, I slowly realize. The girls don’t seem to like it, either, sending each other knowing glances. Or maybe I’m totally imagining all of this, because I have zero experience around people my own age. Weren’t they smiling seconds ago? “Anya,” I say finally. “Nice to meet you.”
“Beautiful name, beautiful girl,” Carter murmurs. “Are you going to the party?”
“I
— there’s a party?” Subtly as possible, I block their view of my breasts with the stack of packets. Is it okay for him to call me beautiful? Sasha wouldn’t think so. “I didn’t know about any party, but I can’t come this time. My husband is waiting for me.”
Their jaws drop. “Husband?” asks a girl to my right. “How long have you been married?”
“About a day,” I respond honestly, wishing I was back at home with Sasha. Their open scrutiny is making my face bright red. I can feel it. “So, I guess I’ll see you around — ”
“Just come for a little while,” Carter says, taking a step closer to me. “My brother is a junior here. The party is at his frat house.” He shrugs. “You can leave any time.”
Oh my God. A frat party? I read about these during my new adult romance binge. What would it be like to see one in real life? There could be dancing, fist fights, people making out. What if I just peek in for a second, just to put images to the words I’ve read? Then I’ll leave and go home to my Russian. Already I miss him so much, my chest feels like it’s been trampled.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Just for a few minutes.”
* * *
Frat parties are gross.
I make that judgment as soon as I walk inside.
It’s dark and reeks of some unknown herb; every surface is sticky and filthy. But that isn’t the worst part. The worst part is the boys. They turn collectively when I walk into the room and rake me with something like…stunned hunger. It makes my pulse beat triple time, makes me edge back toward the door. For so long, Sasha kept my father’s other employees away from me. At first I thought he was going above and beyond the call of duty, but once, when one of the employees got too close, Sasha growled the real reason at me, while carrying me back to my room over his shoulder.
You do not understand your appeal, Anya. You know that place you keep hidden in your panties? Men would kill for one taste of it. They would throw away their lives to get inside it.