Pure

by Lexi Buchanan

  Hugh sighed and watched him carefully. “I know what your father is like. So I get why you’d want to protect her . . . but this is me that you’re talking to. I have your back.”

  He paused and wondered just what to tell Hugh because if it came to it, he’d run with India, and Hugh would be caught in the crossfire. “It’s best if you don’t know, although if you have plans for a vacation then I suggest you take it now.”

  Hugh’s features froze at his words and when he tipped his head to the side, watching him, Hugh said, “It’s the girl your father is obsessed with, isn’t it? She’s the one.”

  “I’ve told you—”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s best if I don’t know. I know anyway because I’m a genius.” Hugh smirked.

  “Will you be serious for once? My father is obsessed with this one. He’s been waiting, bidding his time and he’s decided that now is the time to take her. He’s lied about her to others and he doesn’t give a damn. He will never give her back to her father. Never, Hugh!” As those words left his mouth, he realized how truthful they were.

  “I’ll help you!” Hugh stated, getting in his face. “You can’t go up against your father without backup. He’s an asshole and the men working for him are even bigger ones. There is no one you can trust under his roof.” Hugh grinned because he knew he was right . . . for once. “But you can trust me.”

  “Oh God!” He groaned and pulled out some pizzas from the freezer. “We’re all going to die!”

  Hugh threw his head back and roared with laughter. “You can not keep throwing the broken window back at me.”

  He raised a brow and Hugh continued, “Or the car.”

  Mikhail waited.

  “Or the camping stove, and if I must,” Hugh groaned, “the hot wax.”

  Hugh’s amusement widened Mikhail’s smile until the seriousness of the situation hit him hard. “This isn’t going to be like those times, Hugh. My father is going to want blood and I don’t believe he’ll care about whose it is as long as he has India.”

  Shaking his head, Hugh flopped on the sofa. “You do realize that your father is the only man to really scare the shit outta me? I mean my own father can yell and get me moving, but your father.” He shuddered. “Scary fucker . . . Do you remember that time he set fire to your bookcase because he insisted that books were for girls, not his son who would one day rule the house of Vasiliev. I had nightmares about that for weeks.”

  Mikhail didn’t answer, as there wasn’t much he could say. Hugh had spoken the truth.

  When he’d first moved to America books had saved him—been his escape. He’d had nothing else and no friends, until the day that he’d knocked Hugh out of a tree. They’d been best friends ever since.

  The sudden crunch of feet outside drew Mikhail’s attention to the front door as he reached for the gun in the back of his jeans.

  “Mikhail,” his name shouted from outside had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention.

  Dimitri.

  The man would love nothing more than to be ‘the’ man for Mikhail’s father. He was everything to his father but his son, and Dimitri hated that fact. Dimitri hated how he’d talk back to his father, and the other man always became angered at the lack of respect he’d show, which was the reason why Mikhail did what he did half the time.

  Hugh popped his head over the side of the sofa and held his gaze. “What does he want?” Hugh asked, quickly moving from the couch and kept his presence unknown by standing between the windows.

  He shrugged and slowly made his way outside to see the big man smirking. “Thought you’d want to know,” Dimitri’s grin widened, “that your father has asked me to teach India how to pleasure a man.” He laughed, the sound merging with the buzzing in Mikhail’s head as blood rushed around.

  His hands gripped the porch railing and his heart felt like it was about to leave his chest. The fear, anger, and jealousy that ran through him was potent, but nothing was going to stop him from going after the bastard. Nothing.

  “You do not touch her,” he hissed, trying for control even though he was losing it.

  The asshole put his hand around his ear, and asked, “What did you say?”

  “Fucking bastard,” he roared and made to jump over the porch to reach Dimitri when Hugh appeared and grabbed him around the waist from behind.

  He struggled, and Hugh rapidly hissed, “Ignore him and think.” He squeezed his waist. “Your father is obsessed with this girl. Do you really think that he’d let anyone else touch her? Use your brain.”

  He caught his breath and did what Hugh suggested, and thought, and as he did, he realized that for once, Hugh was right. His father would kill anyone who touched her.

  “You’re a lying bastard,” he snarled.

  Dimitri sniggered. “Your father wanted to know how you would react. I think he has his answer.”

  His eyes focused on Dimitri and something passed over the other mans face that lasted mere seconds, which made Mikhail think that he’d just imagined it. Sorrow. But it kept him on the porch as Dimitri slowly backed away.

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Hugh asked. “I mean about your father?” he corrected.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “How? You go in there and question your father, it will make things ten times worse.”

  He stepped out of Hugh’s hold and faced him. “I’m going to join him for dinner.” He grinned.

  Chapter 7

  The window seat was comfortable as she tried to concentrate on the book in her hands: A Veil of Vines. She loved the magic of the story and it was one she’d read time and again—a comfort read. This time though it wasn’t helping to comfort her because her mind kept wandering to Mikhail before his father, Konstantine had intruded.

  Konstantine wasn’t a nice man and one of these days he was going to get what he deserved. She only hoped that she wasn’t around to see it because she didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire.

  Her dreams had always been of traveling far and wide, away from her strict upbringing, away from her father. Earlier today her dreams had changed to just wanting to be anywhere but the Vasiliev house. She hadn’t known Mikhail a day but there was something about him that she didn’t want to let go of. He made her feel safe and cherished and wanted. Her pulse thrummed as she remembered the feeling of his touch on her body and the way warmth had bloomed between her thighs . . .

  The bedroom door suddenly slammed open that her heart stuttered in fear. Two of Konstantine’s men stormed into the room toward her and before she could catch her breath the bigger of the two grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. As she fought to break free, he snarled in her ear, pinning both of her arms behind her back before he hissed, “He isn’t going to have sex with you, but don’t fight. You’ll make it worse for yourself,” to her surprise.

  “What did you say to her, Dimitri?” The other man smirked, parading back and forth in front of them. “We’re not allowed to talk to her . . . or touch her. His voice thickened, “Although I wouldn’t mind risking it for her.” His tongue darted between his lips.

  The way that he’d motioned to her made her skin crawl, but he shut up quickly after Dimitri rapidly fired a load of Russian to the asshole in front of her. “Vasiliev will kill you,” the large Russian holding her growled.

  “I told you,” Konstantine said calmly, too calmly as he walked into the room, “that she is mine and mine alone, Sergei.”

  The other man backed away and dipped his head, not so cocky now, while Konstantine turned his attention to her.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she Dimitri?” he moved so close that his cologne became overpowering. His face moved closer to hers, pushing her into Dimitri who held his ground.

  Dimitri wasn’t hurting her, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get free. She didn’t understand the man though. It was obvious that he was close to Konstantine, so why would he warn her? That didn’t make
any sense.

  “Sergei,” Konstantine snapped, “go bring it in.” Reaching up with a hand, he curled his fingers around a long, loose strand of her hair and brought it up to his face, inhaling.

  Her belly quivered in fear and her first instinct was to snatch the hair back, but she didn’t with Dimitri’s warning floating in her head. She did move her head away in shock when she saw the large contraption wheeled into the room.

  Konstantine clapped his hands. “My afternoon treat,” he announced, his voice sounded like that of an excited child.

  She was terrified as her breathing became strained the more she stared at what looked like a medieval torture device.

  The dark wooden frame had legs with wheels to stop the thing from falling over, and as Konstantine moved it to where he wanted it, he used his foot to put on the brakes. Her gaze followed him as he released the buckles to each side at the bottom before moving to the top. The reality of the situation that she found herself in hit her full force and the whimper she couldn’t control burst from between her lips.

  His head whipped around and his dark gaze landed on her. The look he gave her made her skin crawl and once again Dimitri whispered, “Don’t fight him.”

  “You fear me?” Konstantine questioned while prowling closer. “That makes it more fun.”

  Swallowing back her fear, she told him, “I do not fear you.” She hoped that she’d spoken with conviction because she wasn’t feeling very confident.

  “Hmm, we’ll see about that.” He smirked and looked at Dimitri before turning his attention to the other man who she was sure had tried to blend into the background. “Sergei, strap her in.”

  “What? No.” She struggled but Dimitri held her firmly. “He’ll only have sex with you if you fight,” the man hissed and the words finally penetrated her brain as all fight left her.

  “Sergei!” Konstantine roared. “I have a business call in ten minutes. I don’t have all day.”

  The other man grinned as he approached and with what seemed like reluctance, Dimitri released her. She felt like turning and clinging to the huge man, begging him to save her. He could easily crush Sergei and Konstantine.

  Sergei quickly grabbed her, noticing her hopeful gaze. “Oh no! Dimitri isn’t going to save you.”

  Her breathing deepened as Sergei tugged her toward the frame and with her knees weakened to Jell-O, she allowed herself to be fastened to it. Her legs were spread wide and her arms above her head, spread like a starfish. It took everything in her to stay calm and to remember Dimitri’s words. She only hoped that she could trust him. She had no reason to, but in the room with the two prickly thorns, she hoped Dimitri had a soft spot for her and could be trusted.

  “Now,” Konstantine waved a pair of scissors in front of her face, “for the fun.” He moved to step closer when he suddenly stopped. “Leave us,” he said while holding her gaze.

  Sergei and Dimitri quickly left while she sensed a slight hesitation in Dimitri before she was left alone with Mikhail’s father.

  Her eyes widened as he stepped onto the frame and sniffed at her neck. “I want to see,” he whispered. “I want to see your creamy skin.”

  That was the only warning she got before he snipped at the top of her dress with the scissors and then proceeded to rip it from her body. He didn’t stop there and cut through her panties, followed then by her bra.

  Once he’d thrown the ruined clothing across the room, he stood back and moaned, grabbing his groin. “You are so beautiful. Your milky white skin.” He rubbed at his crotch, the bulge behind his zipper getting bigger.

  “I can’t wait to claim you.” He dropped to his knees in front of her, and her skin crawled as he put his hands on her thighs.

  “What are you going to do to me?” She asked, fearful.

  “Not what you think, at least not today.” He then stunned her by burying his nose between her legs.

  Her breath caught at the back of her throat as she slammed her jaws closed, afraid that she’d scream, her joints aching as she tried to pull herself free.

  “You smell like your roses,” he commented, standing. “I’m going to leave you here until I send Dimitri to get you down. You need to get used to this frame.” He grabbed his groin and when he appeared happy, he strode out of the door leaving her hanging.

  Chapter 8

  After getting sidetracked for the past hour, Mikhail finally stepped into the kitchen and found Sergei with a huge grin on his face. It widened when he spotted him.

  “Why the fuck are you looking so damn happy?” Sergei appeared to want to tell him something, but he wasn’t in the mood for Sergei today and tried to pass him.

  The hand on him caused a growl to build from deep within his chest, and Sergei took a step back, but continued . . . gloating. “Thought you’d want to know.” He smirked. “Daddy dearest has left India strung up for his viewing pleasure.”

  The blood pounded so hard and fast through his skull that it wouldn’t surprise him if his head exploded. His fists tightened as he hissed the question, “Where. Is. My. Father?”

  The grin faded from Sergei’s face and to his surprise, Dimitri stepped out of the pantry. “He’s on a business call in his office. Should be a while.”

  Dimitri held his gaze and for once he saw nothing but compassion, which confused the hell outta him.

  “Wouldn’t let us stay for the naked part,” Sergei added.

  Seconds later his fist met Sergei’s face and the asshole dropped like a ton of bricks.

  He glanced at Dimitri who shook his head. “You go and see to India. I’ve got this.”

  “Why?”

  The giant of a man frowned down at Sergei and ignored his question. “Just go and help her while you can,” he urged.

  Mikhail dashed through the house and upstairs to India’s bedroom. He knew exactly what Sergei had been talking about and now his only wish was to get to her.

  Although he knew what to expect, the sight was something to behold. Her head was thrown back with her blond hair flowing softly to her deliciously curvy bottom. The magnificent mounds of her breasts were thrust forward and it was then that he noticed her nipples hardened, and he looked up and met her gaze.

  “You came,” she breathed softly. “I hoped you would.”

  He swallowed back the lust that had his body so hard that he could pound nails, and moved forward.

  “Stop!” she shouted, panicked so he paused mid-step. “I don’t want you to get me down. Not yet at least. I need, um, I need you to touch me. When I think about being strapped to this thing. I want it to be your touch that I remember. Only yours.”

  He cursed and tried to catch his breath. “India—”

  “Please Mikhail. I can see that you’re aroused. You want me.”

  “But not like this,” he begged, moving closer.

  “I don’t want you to love me like this . . . just touch me. Give me something else to remember.”

  “What the fuck did he do to you?” He growled, closing his eyes when he realized he’d frightened her with his tone. “I’m sorry. I’m pissed that he did this to you, and at this whole fucking situation.” He dragged his hands through his hair.

  “He only . . . only . . . oh God, I can’t.”

  Pressing up close and personal, he cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You can tell me anything. Never be afraid of that, okay?”

  She inhaled and closed her eyes before her beautiful blue eyes met his. “He dropped to his knees in front of me and . . . and scented me. He smelled me like dog.”

  “I want to kill him.” He dropped his forehead to hers and got the view of a lifetime. Her amazing breasts were pressed against his chest and the feel of them against his body caused lust to run straight to his already hard cock.

  He shouldn’t find it arousing, but the sexy package of the woman was so open and on display for his eyes that he couldn’t control how taut his body became. She knew it too.

  “Touch me,” she w
hispered.

  “I can’t resist you.” Reaching out, his hands touched her waist and slowly caressed along her back to her shoulders before he moved them downwards, resting them on her perfectly rounded bottom. He squeezed the cheeks before he gently kissed between her breasts.

  “Oh!” she mumbled. “I like that.”

  “India, I’m trying not to loose control.”

  “Carry on,” she breathed.

  He chuckled and sucked in a breath as he caressed over the ripe mounds in front of him with his lips. His tongue snuck out and he bathed each nipple, watching as he made them into hard nubs. His head dipped further as he slowly slid down to his knees, placing a kiss into her naval before he let her eyes drift to the light covering of hair on her pussy.

  He swallowed back the huge ball of desire that was threatening to explode and buried his nose between her legs. The scent of her desire hit him full force, which in turn caused his dick to jerk hard behind the zipper of his pants.

  “Oh my.” She panted, gasping for breath. “I didn’t know anything could feel that good.”

  She was trying to kill him.

  Breathing hard, he forced himself to move his face and looked up at her, and when he did his hips strained as his cock throbbed for freedom and relief.

  “Let me see you.”

  He closed his eyes but that did nothing to extinguish the flames. Snapping them open, he quickly ripped into the front of his pants and pulled his dick out.

  India gasped, her eyes fixated as he slid his hand back and forth. “You’re big.”

  He smirked. “Yes.”

  “And cocky.”

  Laughing, he kissed her mound and slipped his tongue out to touch her swollen clit. When he did, the whole frame rattled as she cried out.

  Forgetting about his cock for now, he gripped her ass in his big hands and held her still as he showed her what it felt like to have his mouth on her.

  Her gasps, moans, and incoherent words drove his own arousal higher, causing his dick to pulse and jerk in tune with the sound of her pleasure.