Grind

by Sybil Bartel

  Smarmy fuck. “You assumed correct.”

  “Then we have a deal.” Jagger stood and smiled at Irina. “Miss…?”

  “Tsarko,” she answered.

  “Miss Tsarko, Jagger Black. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for your alliance and persuasion. I’m sure the women will appreciate it.” The fucking prick held his hand out to her.

  “You’re welcome.” She shook his hand and I saw red.

  “Leave,” Dane barked at Jagger.

  Jagger’s smile didn’t falter. “On my way.” He nodded at Dane then André. “Gentlemen.”

  André tipped his chin.

  Dane turned to face me. “That was unnecessary.”

  With the hard set to his jaw, and the impenetrable mask on his face, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried or both. “They need help.”

  “Not my concern.”

  His body heat radiating off him, his masculine scent all around me—his presence was so commanding, he could’ve been touching me and I wouldn’t have felt it any less.

  I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my mouth. “I asked you to make it your concern.”

  His hand gripped the side of my face and his voice came out rough. “Do not ask me to do that again.”

  I could have hidden my emotions behind a mask of disinterest. I could’ve snapped back with a disrespectful retort or said I would do what I wanted, when I wanted, but I didn’t. That woman was gone. She died when Viktor died, and I needed to bury her. I was grateful to this man standing in front of me for saving my life. I wanted his attention, and I wanted to be worthy of it. I didn’t want to mess that up by being flippant or dishonest, so I gave him what he was giving me. Respect.

  “I promise.” I wrapped my hand around his thick wrist. “I won’t.”

  His curt nod and his intense stare were stronger than any words of response.

  “Marek,” André interrupted us.

  Dane didn’t take his gaze off mine. “Wait for us in the hall. I need a few minutes.”

  “Copy.”

  I heard a door shut and Dane’s lips were on mine. Soft and gentle, but oh so demanding, he slid his tongue in and stroked through my mouth as if he were starved for me. My toes curled, and need pooled low in my belly. Every second of last night was forgotten with one single kiss.

  I wasn’t Viktor Fedorov’s wife. I never was.

  I was the woman desperately straining on tiptoes to kiss back the man who was showing me with his hands grasping my face and his knee between my thighs and his erection straining against my belly, that I was his. Utterly and completely his.

  But before I could hitch a leg around his waist and show him he was mine, he pulled back.

  His lips against my mouth, his breath feathering across my skin, he gently caught the outside of my thigh and pushed my leg down. “No.”

  Shame tinted my cheeks and I looked away. “I’m sorry.” I had misread his intent.

  “Look at me,” he demanded, turning my face back to his. “I am not rejecting you.”

  “I understand.” He was being careful, but it still felt like rejection.

  “No, you don’t.”

  I understood perfectly. “You don’t want to touch me… looking like I do.”

  “No, goddamn it. I want to touch every inch of you.” His hands gripped me tighter. “But I am not making love to you until you heal.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you. Understand?”

  A warmth in my chest so intense it hurt, warred with my shame and I gave him the only truth I really understood. “I want you to touch me. I want your marks on my skin, not his,” I disgracefully admitted. “I want you to make me yours.” My whispered admission took what little I had left of my pride and laid it at his feet.

  Anger contorted his features like I’d never seen, and he gripped my chin so firmly it startled me. “I will never do that to you.”

  I knew he would never touch me like Viktor had. That wasn’t what I meant. But I didn’t know how to give a voice to the need deep in my soul that had nothing to do with what Viktor had done to me and everything to do with wanting this man in front of me to claim me.

  I wanted my thighs to have Dane’s fingerprint bruises. I wanted my lips swollen from his punishing kisses. I wanted my pussy to ache like fire from being stretched and well used by his huge cock. And I wanted his seed dripping down my leg with every step I took because I wanted his marks everywhere on me.

  I pulled at his hand holding my face. “I know.”

  He didn’t budge. “Then explain.”

  “I can’t.” I couldn’t tell him that I wanted him to love me like he’d never loved another. I couldn’t tell him that I needed that to feel secure.

  “Not hurting you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you.”

  This conversation, him leaving, my own disgrace, it made me want to crawl into a hole. “I know.”

  “Then tell me why you want me to mark you,” he demanded.

  “Tell me why it matters,” I snapped.

  He searched my face as if looking for cracks. “You need to say the words.”

  I broke. “Do you think this is easy? Do you think I wanted to say what I did? Do you think I want you to walk out that door and help other women like you helped me? I don’t. I don’t want you to be anyone’s hero except mine, and I don’t want you to be gone for one single second because I want you here with me. I want you to show me I’m yours.” Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I forced the rest out in an ashamed whisper. “I want to matter to you more than anything in this stupid world because that’s what you are to me.”

  Huge, muscular arms full of strength and forgiveness and life and everything that meant anything to me pulled me into his embrace. “Irina—”

  “I don’t want you to go,” I interrupted. “I don’t want to be that selfish. But I am. I’m broken and selfish, and I don’t care anymore about being whole. I just want to be yours.”

  He held me tighter.

  I choked on a sob. “And I hate crying. I don’t want to do it in front of you anymore, so go.” I took a step back. “Just go.”

  He didn’t.

  He followed my step and caught my face. Then he stared into my soul with his storm-intense gaze and he gave me his words. “You are mine, Irina Tsarko. And I am yours.”

  I wanted to believe it, God I wanted to believe it, but self-doubt crowded my head. “You deserve more.” He deserved a woman who didn’t cry or let another man use her.

  “You’re perfect.” Tender and sweet, he kissed me once then released me. “Get your things.”

  An invisible tether broke the second he let go of me, and I wanted to rush back into his arms. I knew when I’d heard them talking that he had to help the women. When Viktor had taken me upstairs yesterday, I hadn’t even known there were other women at the estate. It made me sick to think about them being captive. They needed the kind of help Dane and his friend André could give them.

  But I needed something from Dane before he left. “Promise me you won’t get shot. Or stabbed.”

  A half smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “I promise I’ll come back to you.”

  He didn’t give me what I asked for, but he gave me something more. I didn’t hesitate. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his neck. Burying my head against his chest, I did something I should’ve done when he’d rescued me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  His huge hand caught the back of my head as his lips touched my hair. “You’re no longer broken, love. You’re free.”

  She needed to understand that no matter what happened to me, she was free of him. She could move on with her life, with or without me. I wasn’t under any illusion that the past three years of my life would stay buried if I walked away from it. I knew the risks going in, and I knew the risks getting out. I had no right to drag her into this life. She wasn’t the selfish one. I was. I’d handle the escaped guard and find the missing woman. But the
n I was coming back for her and I wasn’t going to fucking let go.

  I dropped my arm, but this time I stepped back so she couldn’t reach for me again. “Get your suitcase.”

  Alarm spread across her face. “You said you were coming back.”

  “I am.” One way or another.

  Her expression relaxed but suspicion filtered into her tone. “Then why can’t I leave it here? You said thirty-six hours.”

  I smiled even though I shouldn’t have.

  Tension eased out of her shoulders. “What?”

  “I like this version better.”

  Heat hit her cheeks and she morphed into the woman who put staples in me. “That’s not an explanation.” A hand went to the slight swell of her hips.

  Remembering exactly how her skin felt there, my dick stirred. “The version of you that’s not trying to run from me.”

  She blushed hard and inhaled. “I had a good reason to run from you.”

  I could’ve interpreted that a couple different ways. “You still do.”

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  Luna was in the hall, I had a guard to find before he found us, but in that moment, I didn’t give a fuck. I dragged my gaze the length of her. I wasn’t thinking about what that piece of shit did to her. I was thinking about the woman who fell apart under me, and I wanted to know what I was dealing with.

  “Come here,” I quietly demanded.

  Her demeanor changed in a nanosecond. Attitude gone, face flushed, she took a step toward me. “Why?”

  I gave a hand signal to Hunter to stay, but I held her gaze. “Closer.”

  She bit her bottom lip and took another step.

  I dropped to my knees. Her sweet cunt inches in front of me, I could smell her desire. “Closer,” I roughly commanded.

  She took the final step. “What are you doing?”

  Her soft, submissive voice made my pulse race and my dick throb. “I’m looking at what’s mine.” My mouth watered to taste her. “Lift your shirt.”

  Her small, delicate hands fingered the hem of my T-shirt. Her chest rose with an inhale then she lifted the material above her bare breasts.

  I wrapped my hands around her waist and gently touched my lips to her flat stomach. My soap mixed with the scent of her skin, and I wanted to fucking devour her. Holding back, I took in every inch of her flesh she hadn’t let me see last night. Her pale skin flawless, her pebbled nipples much less red than last night, she held perfectly still.

  I brushed a thumb over her small breast and she sucked in a breath. “Does this hurt?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  I kissed one nipple then the other as I slipped my fingers into her waistband. Slow and careful, I peeled her leggings over her hips and halfway down her thighs.

  The black and blue paddle marks that covered the inside of her thighs looked worse than last night. My nostrils flared and I wanted to murder Fedorov all over again.

  “Wait.” Alarm bled into her tone. “Stop.” She pulled her shirt down.

  I fucking knew bruising looked worse before it looked better. “No.” I dragged the material down to her knees. “How much does this hurt?”

  She reached for her pants. “I’m fine.”

  I caught her wrist. “Answer my question.”

  Her pulse in her neck jumped and her voice went quiet as fuck. “Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t what? Look at you?” Touch her? Question her? Get irate? Too fucking late. For all of it.

  “It will fade,” she barely whispered.

  Jesus fuck. I looked up at her panicked face. “Is that what you’re worried about? How you look to me right now?”

  She hesitated then nodded once.

  Two breaths and I reined in a temper I never fucking had before a few days ago. “You’re beautiful. Every goddamn inch. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  She looked away. “Not like this.”

  I stood and took her face. “Do you know what’s beautiful?” So fucking beautiful, it hurt to look at? “A woman who sacrifices herself for me.” She’d never said, but I wasn’t fucking stupid. I knew what Fedorov had used against her. Me and her mother. It was the only leverage he’d had. She’d already walked.

  “No.” She pulled out of my grasp and dropped her head. “I’m not heroic. I didn’t—”

  “I know exactly what you did. It was fucking dangerous and you shouldn’t have done it, but it was brave as hell.” I tipped her chin. “You will never do that again, though. Understand?”

  She bit her bottom lip, but she nodded.

  “You need to trust me.”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  I laid it out. “I need to trust you.”

  She stilled. “Okay.”

  “That means you tell me when you’re hurting.”

  “I’m sore,” she quickly admitted.

  “Where?” I wanted details.

  “The inside of my thighs, just a little, when I walk.” She laid a hand over her breast. “Here is still a little tender.”

  I kissed her once. “You were right. You will heal.” I ran my thumb across her lips. “But bruises don’t make you unattractive. No makeup, dressed in cheap clothes, wearing marks you got protecting me, you’ve never been more beautiful.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  The six words hit me harder than her kick to my chest. “You’re not going to.” I gently caressed between her legs because she didn’t say she was sore there. “We’re not done,” I warned. “We haven’t even begun.” I sank my tongue into her mouth as I circled her clit.

  She moaned as her arms wrapped around my neck.

  Already addicted to her, I used every ounce of restraint I had and only kissed her once. Pulling back fucking sucked, but dropping to my knees and kissing her sweet cunt was torture. I wanted inside her so fucking bad. I wanted to erase every goddamn thing he’d ever done to her, but I wasn’t an asshole. Not to her.

  I kissed her wet pussy and made her a promise. “The second you’re not sore, I’m going to make you come so damn hard, you’ll see stars.” The soft moan of need and desire that escaped her lips filled my dead fucking heart as I pulled her pants up and stood.

  She leaned into me and grasped my arms, as if she needed me for balance. “I want to see stars now.”

  I smiled. “I know, sweetheart, but you’re going to wait for me.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled. “Then I’m leaving my suitcase here.”

  I leaned down to her ear. “You do whatever you want with your clothes.” I nipped her ear. “Because you’re not going to need them when I get home.”

  Her nails dug into my arms. “I changed my mind.” She exhaled. “I think I hate you.”

  I chuckled. “There’s not a single thing I hate about you.” I breathed in her intoxicating scent then kissed her neck. “I gotta go. But I want you to do something for me.”

  “What?”

  “Ice those bruises then take a hot bath.”

  She looked up at me. “Okay, but I meant what I said about not getting hurt.”

  “I know.” I didn’t want her worrying, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love the hell out of her caring about me. I took her hand and opened the front door.

  Luna looked up from his phone. “We ready?”

  “All set.” I gave him a warning look. “Take care of her.”

  He tipped his chin. “Consider it done.”

  I turned to Irina. “Take Hunter with you.” I kissed her once then whispered in her ear, “And wait for me, love.”

  My stomach knotted as he walked to the stairwell and left without a backward glance.

  “How you doing?”

  I turned to André. “I’m fine. Thank you for last night.” I should have been embarrassed, about a lot of things, but André wasn’t a man who made you uncomfortable. He made you feel respected.

  He smiled and his whole face changed. “Anytime, chica. You need to get anythi
ng?” He nodded toward the apartment.

  “Let me just clean up the dishes.” I didn’t want to leave food out for thirty-six hours.

  “Marek has a housekeeper. She’ll handle it. We should go.”

  At the mention of a housekeeper, irrational jealousy flared.

  André chuckled. “You gotta work on that poker face, chica.”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Hunter nudged my side.

  “You didn’t have to. His housekeeper is my housekeeper, and she’s old enough to be our mother.” He winked as he scratched Hunter’s head. “You don’t need to worry. Grab your bag.”

  Relief washed over me. “Just give me a second.” I went back inside with Hunter at my heels. Now that Dane was gone, the place seemed too big and too empty, and his scent everywhere made me not want to leave.

  I grabbed some underwear from my suitcase and briefly thought about the clothes in there. I was ashamed to admit that I didn’t want to wear chain store clothes compared to the designer dresses Viktor had bought for me. I would’ve been comfortable in the clothes Dane had given me, but they didn’t make me feel like a woman. I was vain enough to admit I wanted to look better than I did now when Dane came home.

  I tucked my toiletries case into the purse Dane had brought from his house, slipped on flats, and Hunter and I walked back into the living room.

  André saw me and put his phone back in his pocket. “Marek says you need to eat.”

  “I just need some coffee.” I didn’t want to ask for food because I was going to use up my favors another way. “I was hoping you could help me with two stops.”

  “No problem on coffee. What stops?”

  I’d noticed when I first met André that he had an edge to him that was hidden just under surface, but he also had a gift of making you feel at ease. “I would like a few minutes to see my mother.”

  His face went blank. “The second?”

  I named a department store in Coral Gables. “Just twenty minutes.” That would be long enough to grab a few things, and I could get more when my time was my own.

  André was already shaking his head. “No woman comes out of a store in twenty minutes, chica.”