Drago (Dangerous Love Book 3)

by Kristin Alexander

  Drago shook his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his hard mouth. “That was nothing. What you saw in there was nothing. Losing an ear? Nothing. You have no idea what I’m capable of, Katya. What I’ve done.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that part of you exists?”

  His scowl intensified. “I don’t care if you know or not, watching me fuck someone up is not something I want you to see again.”

  My mouth slanted in a small smile, trying to soothe him. “Relax, Drago, even though I said I accept it, I’m not in any kind of hurry to start joining in on torture sessions or training as some kind of an assassin. That shit I just saw in there was horrifying. I have no desire to revisit it.”

  His lips quirked. “Assassin? God help me.”

  I smirked. “I would be an amazing assassin,” I asserted with no basis for such a claim. I was being a bit silly, trying to lighten the mood.

  He shook his head. “The day I fucking let you be an assassin. No fucking way, even if you were the best marksman on the planet.”

  “Maybe if I was an assassin, it would stop people from wanting to kidnap me,” I said only half-jokingly.

  But he didn’t smile at all. In fact, his expression hardened. “Oh, Katya, soon enough everyone is going to know that you are not to be touched. If anybody tries to take you from me, what you witnessed inside that warehouse would be nothing in comparison. Nobody fucks with what belongs to me.” His pale eyes roamed my features, his scowl intact. “By the time I get done with Yuri, everyone will know—touching you is a fucking death sentence.”

  I swallowed hard as he pulled me into his embrace once again. Drago didn’t play, and soon everyone would know that.

  Chapter 25

  Drago

  After talking to the guys in the warehouse, I drove Katya home. I noted the blood under my fingernails as I clutched the steering wheel, a grim reminder of what she had just witnessed. I darted looks at her as we drove, unable to believe that she’d be so accepting of me after witnessing my capacity for violence. I’d told her—told her I was aggressive and ruthless—but to know of it peripherally and to witness it personally were vastly different things.

  Sure, Katya had freaked the fuck out, but that was a normal reaction. I could hardly remember the first time I committed violent acts, let alone witnessed them. Since birth, maybe? Although she said she was okay, said she understood the role violence played in the Bratva and in my life specifically, every nerve-cell was blaring with hypervigilance and alarm.

  Katya’s explanation for ignoring her promise to me, something I would be bringing up when she was in a calmer state of mind, made some sense. I supposed it was better that she see this part of me now, instead of becoming aware of it years down the road and realizing she couldn’t handle it. However, it was an aspect of my life I was trying to keep her separate from, making it hard to ignore low hum uncertainty that buzzed in the background of my mind.

  “Katya,” I said, my vocal cords sounding like they had been rubbed with sandpaper. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, needing to dispel the internal tension.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I am. I hated what I saw, hate that you have to do what you do, but I can’t exactly claim I didn’t know this was how things are. I’ve always wanted you, Drago. To pretend I didn’t know that this was part of the package wouldn’t be very fair on my part. Or honest.” She reached up to grab the locket around her neck, rubbing it in a gesture that looked like self-soothing. Seeing that necklace on her did something to me. It created a ball of possessiveness, lust, and affection that was difficult to process.

  Possibly unsettled by my silence, she reached out her hand out to grab mine. It still had blood spatter on it, making me initially resist, but she tugged my hand onto her lap anyway—my bloody, violent hand.

  “Katya, there’s blood on my hand.” Jesus Christ, what an understatement.

  “I know,” she replied pointedly, also a double entendre, gripping my hand more tightly, blood and all. She knew. She knew who I was, how I needed to run this organization. Knew I needed to be smart, but that I also needed to violent, harsh, and cold-blooded. And she accepted it, accepted me.

  It was unsettling and euphoric at the same time, and I gritted my teeth while processing these sensations—the pins and needles of a limb that had gone to sleep and was now slowly coming back to life. This was what she did to me. She awakened all these dormant and dead parts of my soul. A soul I had thought long past redemption.

  Not that she was redeeming me, necessarily. I wasn’t going to suddenly change who I was, who I needed to be to run the Chicago Bratva. No, she simply loved me in spite of it. I felt a wrench of something in my chest and reached up to rub it absently.

  “Are you okay? Did one of those guys hit you?” Katya asked.

  I realized I’d used the hand she’d been holding to rub my chest through my blood-spattered shirt. “No, I’m fine.”

  Could this possibly be real? Was it this easy? “Katya, I need to know you are completely okay about what happened today, what you saw.”

  She took a deep breath, the rise of her chest causing her breasts to press against her shirt in a way that had me shifting focus from my feelings to my sex drive. Suddenly, I wanted to see her in nothing but that necklace.

  This was not an uncommon reaction for me after a session that requires violent intervention, but my desire was amplified significantly by other emotions, fueling my need for her. My hand clenched on the steering wheel as I patiently waited for her to answer.

  “Drago, I’m okay, honestly.”

  “You were quiet. What were you thinking about?”

  “I was thinking of a lot of things. I was remembering you saving me when I was younger and how I’ve never held it against you that you had to kill Bedri and his driver. That I’ve always known the lengths you’d go to, and I’ve always wanted you in spite of that knowledge. Maybe because of that knowledge, now that I think about it.”

  A jolt of shock ran through my system as I raised a brow at her. “Explain.”

  She shrugged. “Well, my life has been surrounded by this constant sense of imminent danger. I think there’s a part of me that likes the fact that you’re dangerous. And after what happened with Demer, I think it makes me feel safe. I know what you’ll do to people who might want to hurt me and…I like it,” she said in a low murmur, as if admitting such a thing was a character flaw.

  My chest practically burst with masculine pride, and my lust for her skyrocketed. I needed to get her home immediately, but first, I needed to reassure her that her feelings were perfectly normal. “Katya, what you’re saying is completely reasonable. In fact, it’s probably supported by science. It’s like survival of the fittest. You attach yourself to the male most able to ensure your survival.”

  She snorted. “Well, isn’t that romantic. My attraction to you is based on survival instincts.”

  I smiled and rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb. She responded, using her fingers to lightly caress my rough palms. As I glanced at her, I noted the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her nipples starting to push through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “You alright?” I asked, my voice thickening with arousal.

  Her face was flushed, and I watched as her tongue swiped across her pink lips. “I... I don’t know. I feel kind of…weird.” She started stroking my hand lightly, running her fingertip along my callused fingers and palm—teasing me, seducing me.

  I shot her an assessing look to make sure I was reading her correctly. Her reaction was a surprise, although it was a common enough by-product of what she’d experienced. Violence, or exposure to it, required a release. She had cried initially, which cleared the shock and most of her primary emotional responses, but there was still residual adrenaline coursing through her system, searching for an outlet. She felt safe with me, so it was fueling her sexual response.

  “You’re turned on,” I said with calm certainty, wanting to signal my understa
nding and absolute encouragement of her inclinations.

  She blinked, then grimaced with self-reproach as she looked at her stroking fingers. “Oh, god, you’re right! What’s wrong with me? I just watched you cut some guy’s ear off, and now I’m trying to have sex? Am I crazy?”

  Thankfully, I was pulling into the parking garage under my building. I wasn’t sure if she asked the question rhetorically, but I turned to her and answered her seriously, my bloody hands cradling her face. “Katya, what you’re feeling—it’s common. You have all this energy and restlessness running through your system, and you’re seeking a way to release it. Don’t feel guilty.”

  “Don’t feel guilty? I’m turning into a psychopath! I was just flirting with you!” she ranted, not realizing this was another way of venting those same emotions—anger. Instead of accommodating her by arguing, I wanted to vent my emotions, too. I slid my hand behind her neck, gripping her firmly, and slammed my mouth on hers.

  She squawked slightly under my mouth, but her hands quickly began roaming over my body. She pulled my shirt up and slid her hands underneath. When her nails scored the flesh of my lower back, I thought my cock was going to burst through the front of my jeans. I reached down and pinched her nipple hard. She squeaked, but pulled me closer, searching for more stimulation. I needed to get us upstairs right now.

  I pulled away from her, her swollen mouth immediately collapsing into a sensual pout. Fuck, I was about to come in my pants looking at her. “Katya, upstairs,” was all I said, all I could get past a throat locked with lust.

  We jumped out of the car, and I grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the elevator. Once the door closed, I lifted her against the wall of the elevator, grinding my rock-hard dick between her thighs as she scraped her nails through my hair and down my back, her hands endlessly moving over my body. Apparently, giving her permission to express her pent-up energy through sex had released her inhibitions. Thank fuck.

  My mouth devoured hers, taking it savagely, my tongue dominating it. I braced my forearm under her ass as her legs wound around my waist, her hips moving in constant rhythm. I slid my other hand down the front her yoga pants and panties, my need for her erupting like lava when I found her drenched.

  “You are so wet, kotyonok. Do you want my cock? Is that what you need?” I breathed in her ear as my fingers slid through her wetness. I gave a quick pinch to her clit then thrust two fingers inside her tight pussy, slowly moving them in and out.

  “Yes, please…please, Drago, I need…more,” she panted mindlessly, her head falling back against the wall of the elevator, her beautiful face flushed with arousal, her lips swollen and battered from my mouth, her body twisting against my thrusting fingers. She was fucking gorgeous.

  The door opened, and I slid my hand out of her pants, causing her to moan with frustration. I carried her into the apartment, kissing her again as I walked us to the couch.

  “Strip,” I gritted out, pulling my own t-shirt over my head and kicking off my jeans.

  She scrambled to remove her clothes, pulling her pants and panties down in one swift motion. I grabbed her t-shirt at the hem and pulled it off her, unable to wait a moment longer to see her smooth, pale flesh. She responded by practically ripping off her bra and jumping back into my arms, her legs once again wrapping around my waist.

  What had felt amazing in the elevator had me nearly falling to my knees, her wetness now sliding against my bare cock as she rubbed herself against me, seeking release and relief. She was nearly delirious with arousal, almost out of her mind as she repeated the word please on a loop and grinded against me. I didn’t think she was even aware she was speaking.

  I carried her into our bedroom and tossed her on the bed.

  “Don’t move,” I ordered, as she was about to jump up again. She stilled, something in her registering the command in my voice, her naked breasts heaving as she struggled to comply. Need poured off of her in waves as her body arched and squirmed.

  I went to my closet and retrieved a pair of padded, leather wrist restraints connected by a short chain. Her eyes went wide, and she sat up quickly. “What—?”

  “Lie down and lift your hands over your head, Katya,” I said in a firm voice, wanting to remind her that she’d been the one to mention handcuffs earlier.

  Again, she complied automatically, her eyes still jumping from me to the restraints. I straddled her rib cage, placing each delicate wrist in a manacle after lacing the chain through my headboard. I hadn’t had much opportunity to use these—I wasn’t much into bondage with one-night stands. But with Katya…looking down at her, defenseless, her pupils wide with lust and excited confusion. I wanted to fucking devour her.

  The only things she was wearing now were my handcuffs and the necklace I had given her. She was perfect. Lust and dominance skittered up my spine as I stared at her looking helpless and owned.

  I stroked down her arms, unable to resist squeezing her breasts and tugging on her nipples. She automatically started tugging and rattling the chains, her face flushing with arousal as she registered her captured state. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Do you know how long I have waited to have you like this, Katya? Too long.”

  My dick pulsed as I sat back and watched her pull at the cuffs. Most of the chain was behind the headboard, so she didn’t have much room to pull.

  “Do you trust me? To take care of you and give you what you need?” I asked hoarsely, the sight of her robbing me of speech. There was a clear double entendre to my words that I was sure she was aware of.

  Heat flared in her eyes. Yes, she understood. “Yes…but…” she panted.

  I could see that even though she was getting off on the restraints, she was uneasy. She didn’t understand why she needed this. “Trust me, kotoyonok.” I repeated

  She dropped her head back and took a deep breath. “Okay, but I still…I still need…”

  I leaned down to rest my forearms on either side of her, my mouth moving to her ear. “You still need me to fuck you?”

  “Yes!” she panted, her hips moving upward, seeking relief. “The handcuffs make it more intense. I can’t focus on anything else,” she nearly wailed.

  I smiled—that was the point. “You want something else to focus on?”

  I didn’t wait for her to answer. I popped back up on my knees to straddle her chest. I grabbed my dick, giving it a quick squeeze to get myself under control, and tapped her lips. “Open your mouth, kotyonok.”

  Her green-gold gaze leapt with fire, her mouth opening unquestioningly. She was obedient—for once. Thank fuck. I rubbed the head of my cock against her bottom lip, a thought occurring to me. “Never done this before either, right?” I asked lightly, but I already knew the answer. I just liked hearing her say it.

  “No,” she answered, her hot breath skating over my dick. Her answer made my balls tighten with the need to take her virgin mouth. There was something about her innocence that drove me fucking insane.

  “Good.” I slid my stiff cock in her hot, wet mouth and watched her eyelids drop shut, a look of lust and intense curiosity on her face. I gripped the top of the headboard as I slowly glided in and out of her soft lips, hissing when her tongue tentatively swirled the underside of my cock.

  The vibrations from her soft moans had me gritting my teeth against the urge to slam my dick down her throat. I twisted my hand in her hair, guiding her mouth back and forth in rhythm with my hips knowing it wouldn’t take me much to get off in her mouth.

  I pulled my wet cock out of her mouth and nearly came when her tongue tried to chase it. I needed to squeeze the base as I watched her lick her swollen lips, knowing it was me that she was tasting.

  “Drago…” she pleaded.

  I knew what she wanted. I slid down the bed until I was between her spread thighs. I was captivated by the pale, unmarked flesh of her inner thighs and found myself unable to resist sucking and biting her soft skin. Her hips jumped again, though I wasn’t sure if it was in pleasure, surprise, or pain.
I wanted to brand her with me, fill her senses, so all she knew was my scent, my touch, my complete possession.

  I moved on from her inner thighs, pushing them farther apart so I could focus on her wet pussy. Her pussy was so pretty, so delicate, with only a small amount of red-gold hair at the top of her sex. I slid my tongue from the bottom of her opening and ended by strongly sucking her clit. Her body jumped as if she had been electrocuted.

  “Oh my god,” she gasped as my mouth struggled to stay on her wriggling body. I laid my forearm across her lower stomach to keep her still as she cried out in pleasure. My thumb rubbed just outside her opening, taunting her by withholding the penetration she was desperately seeking. I wanted her out of her mind by the time I fucked her.

  “Drago!” she said, her voice full of frustration and admonishment. I smiled around her clit, my tongue moving at a significantly faster pace and plunged two fingers deeply inside, curving them slightly. Katya came unglued, pulling and tugging at the chains holding her wrists in place, screaming out her pleasure. Her thighs widened as she pushed back against my thrusting fingers.

  I couldn’t stand it any longer—I had to fuck her now, or I was going to come on the bed. I wrapped an arm under each of her thighs, holding them open, then reached down and lined my leaking cock up with her wet entrance.

  I had her legs over each of my arms, holding her open as I pounded into her body, barely able to process the incredible pleasure I was experiencing. Katya’s head was tossing on the pillows as she panted, her bright hair sticking to her sweaty forehead as she groaned and pleaded with me to fuck her harder. She was completely out of control, mindless with pleasure and need, and I reveled in it.

  I slowly pulled out, preparing to give Katya exactly what she was begging for when I realized I’d made an unheard-of error. I wasn’t wearing a condom.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, reluctantly withdrawing from her wet warmth, causing Katya to groan with dismay, perhaps thinking I had pulled out to torment her further. I pulled the nightstand drawer open and grabbed a condom, my cock feeling the bite of the cooler air.