His hands captured mine in a bruising grip, the wild, feral glint in his eyes shot right through my chest and coated my heart. The muscle in his jaw ticked and ticked. One hand pressed both of my wrists above my head, holding them against the cold white wall behind me.
He dropped to his hunches in front of me, keeping his gaze on my face. He inhaled deeply through his mouth as he moved the hair from my face, his nostrils flaring.
"My pretty baby," his voice was rougher than ever, the faint English accent you barely heard was crystal clear now, it did something to my composure. His free hand smoothed over the wet, plumped skin of my bottom lip. "My pretty, pretty girl. I want to ruin you, hm? Your pretty little mouth- Can I? Can I be rough with you, angel?"
My skin tingled with a hot blush as I nodded my head. He leaned forward then, taking my chin in his rough, dominating hand. His lips crashed down onto mine, a quick, bruising kiss.
But then, he pulled away and said, "Open,"
To which I obeyed.
Kirill rose up to his height but bent at the hips, tilting my chin up as he rose. His gaze flickered down to my mouth, and then he sat on my tongue.
I didn't even have enough time to process what he had just done, because he pushed the head past my lips and to the back of my throat. I inhaled sharply through my nose, a sound of protest leaving the hollow pit of my throat. His groan was music to my ears, more so the way he dipped his head back.
Slow and steady, he started rolling his hips forwards. He went deeper than before, and I felt the incoming gag crash against me but he pulled out, a line of spit connecting my lips and the tip of his cock.
I panted, heaved blinking my teary eyes up at the god that stood above me. His palm smoothed over the top of my head, "You like that?" his voice was low, his words slow and shaky. I nodded my head vigorously, and he smiled down at me and pushed into my mouth again.
The silver barrel skimmed over the wetness of my tongue, sliding in and out. His hips jutted forward, faster and faster until the grip on my wrists tightened, and the grip on my hair. He fucked my mouth relentlessly, a dark curl slipping out from his bun and casting a dark shadow against his eyes.
"Fuck," he groaned, "Fuck, Dream. Just like that, baby. God, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,"
I squeezed my thighs tight together, throbbing around nothing. I made a sound around him, to which he inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. The hand on my hair weakened and moved to the wall above me, and he leaned forward, towering further over me.
I mewled as he pressed deeper into my mouth, filling the entirety of it to the brim with him. The clean shaven skin right above his cock pressed against my nose, and salty tears cascaded down my cheeks in flowing rivers.
Yet his gaze was gentle, and passionate on my face.
He pulled out right as I gagged, and a wad of spit rand down my chin, and he smiled so beautifully at me. He pushed in again, fucking my mouth in a rhythm that was perfectly slow, perfectly deep. His cock was ginormous, doing nothing to betray the size of the man it was attached to.
His hips moved faster, and his eyes closed as his head dropped back, and his groaned was deep, and throaty and it passed through me and right to the spot between my thighs.
"I'm gonna come," he whispered, his thrusts paused as he looked down at me, "You want it, hm? You want me to come in your mouth?"
I nodded, but his smile was far too teasing and I knew he'd make me embarrass myself.
"Say it," he pulled out of my mouth, his large hand closing around his thick cock.
"Please," I whispered hoarsely.
"Again," he ordered.
"Please come in my mouth," I wheezed out, and his smile was full of approval and adoration as he pushed past my lips again, and with a single thrust, I felt his warm, slightly salty come hit the back of my throat. His eyes shut, and his jaw clenched so tight I feared it might snap in half.
"Fuck," he moaned, "Jesus." he pulled out, and let go of my hands in one movement. He tugged his trousers up, used both of his hands to move the hair out of his face before he crouched in front of me, his head tilted to the side.
"Swallow," he whispered the order, his voice soft and breathless and beautiful. I obeyed, and showed him. His smile was instantaneous, and he pulled the same blue handkerchief out of his suit pocket and wiped the spit from my chin, he pocketed it again before wiping my tears off with his hand.
"You're the sweetest, most precious girl ever." effortlessly, he picked me up by my armpits and I curled my shaking legs around his waist. One arm was around my waist, the other opened the door and slammed it shut. The same hand moved to below my butt and covered the exposed skin with a protective, large hand.
The soft mattress dipped below me, and the warm embrace left me and I heard him close the door. He leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling to a slow, rhythmic tempo. He stood there, watching me as he regained his breath and composed himself.
His strides were slow and controlled as he advanced towards me, and slowly, he pulled up his trousers at his thighs, crouching down in front of me. His knees connected with the tiles below us, and when I sat up straighter, his hands cupped both of my cheeks.
"I would do everything," he whispered gently, his voice deep and rough and addictive, "I would set the world on fire for you. I would leave everything behind, I want to take care of you every day, all day long."
He bent forward, his lips moving slowly over mine. My heart shattered in my chest as I kissed him back, the gentle smile that broke from his mouth against mine was the sweetest of feelings. I held onto his wrists, moaning softly as his lips moved from mine and to my neck.
"Move in with me,"
The world screeched to a halt around me. I paused, and so did he. He found my eyes, his large hands moving the fallen tendrils of dark hair from my gaze, smoothing them over my head. "Move in with me," he repeated, "I'll come home to you every night, take care of you. You can bring your dog, you-"
"Kirill," I stopped him, my voice a whisper that floated around the room, silencing both the voices and the world around us. My mind raced furiously, adding the cons and pros.
There were no cons.
"Okay," I mumbled, "Okay," I repeated, firmly this time.
His eyes drowned in mine, and the most perfect smile crossed over his mouth. He smiled at me, and kissed me and made a deep, rough sound of approval against my mouth. He rose to his feet, towering over everything. He took the phone from the dresser behind him and pressed a single button, held it to his ear and started speaking In his serious voice, all the while standing between my legs and smoothing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip.
I parted my lips, something that was becoming a habit. His thumb snaked into my mouth, his eyes lighting fire trails across my face.
"Book a flight for tomorrow morning at eight," he said, ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed.
His weight pressed me into the bed as he crawled on top of me, and his head dipped and he nipped at the naked skin on my throat before he moved to my lips, and kissed me hard.
"My beautiful, beautiful Dream. What a sight you are, hm? Mine. All fucking mine. Mine to touch, mine to take care of, mine to fuck. But most importantly, mine to ruin."
x X x
The water was scorching hot and enveloped me to my abdomen, yet it nearly came close to the man across from me's belly button. Both arms, long and thick and tattooed, rested over the edge of the white, oval shaped bath. His beard, black and starting to get fuller, ticked with the clenching and unclenching of his straight, sharp jaw.
He brought he butt of a white, smoking cigarette to his mouth as he hung his head back, his wide chest moving as he inhaled, deflating as he exhaled. His fingers tapped a beat on the porcelain, his blue eyes closed as he heaved out a deep, content sigh.
His legs were on either side of mine, and mine were out on top of his. I had never been fully naked in front of Kirill, and the moment I got into the bath, he walked in and started undressing right in front of me.
"Daddy?"
His head lifted and he looked at me with a hazy, half-lidded tired gaze. He tilted his head to the side, "Hm?" he hummed deeply, watching me.
"What do you do? For a living? I know there's more to your business...but I wanna know. Everything,"
His gaze turned away from me and to the floor next to the bath, I could practically see the cogs turning in his head. He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip before he found my eyes. He cleared his throat gently, took a deep inhale from the cigarette, and then finally spoke.
"I-" he stopped himself, sighing deeply. This information weighed heavily on his shoulders, it was clear to me now.
"I am God of Russia," he said, yet there was not an ounce of pride in his words, "There is nothing I can't do, or have or kill. Amongst the world's mafia's, Bratva is one of the strongest."
Confused, I cocked my head, "Mafia? You're-you're in the Mafia?"
His lips cocked into a smile, one that tasted bitter on my tongue. He shook his head as he lifted his chin, "No," he said with a snarl in his lip, "I am the Mafia, darling."
I paled, as white as the bath. I parted my lips to say something, but his voice stopped me and more so his words, too. "When my father died, the crown of Bratva was given to me. I didn't want it, I despised the mafia. It was a cruel, heart breaking organization- it still is. I did everything I could, and I moved away. I left the mafia for seven years- when I was twenty three."
"It was good for a while. I only dealt with the legal side of Bratva. There was no killings or deals that came from my hand, nothing went through me. Katerina was the leader of the Bratva for seven years. But the crown was never meant to be hers, it was always just me,"
Watching Kirill speak about this was like watching a child speak about a traumatic event. It was breaking my heart; seeing him truly mean every word. Bitterness clawed at my throat for him, I suddenly despised the world for darkening a man like him.
"I left, but the failed assassination attempt of myself and Katerina calls for me to join again. Someone tried to kill me in my own home, tried to kill me and my sister and ultimately, you. Bratva is a dark, inhumane place, my darling. It has rotted over my heart. I'm a bitter, bitter man, Dream. I kill, torture, burn. It is no place for a girl like you, and I fear I might spread my sickness onto you,"
He tipped the cigarette, and found my gaze. There was nothing sympathetic behind his eyes, he meant every word he said. He meant it because it was the truth. Yet, I knew he didn't care. He didn't care if he spread the sickness, maybe because what he felt was more important than that. More important than his logical feeling.
"I have to go back," he said, gaze hardening, "I will not be disrespected in my own home, more so, nor will the women in my life. I've killed people," he nodded slowly, watching me with hooded eyes, "I haven't killed in a while, but I will have to soon. Once I find the men who tried to end my reign, I will kill each and every one of them. I will torture them. Mercilessly."
"How do you feel about that, Dream? This is the return of Kirill Ivanov, darling. If you want to leave, you need to do so. The moment we step back onto English land tomorrow morning. You will either run as far away from me as you can, or you will stay. And I will allow you the world in the palm of your hand,"
He had leaned forward, closer after every word. So close I could smell the cigarette and mint on his breath. His eyes fell to my lips before they found my eyes again, his question lingering on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed hard.
Kirill promised he would never let anything happen to me, he promised he'd always be there. And he has, every time. I felt a sharp tug at my heart, the pumping of the organ deafening in my ears.
"Stay," I whispered, and the corner of his mouth tilted up. "Good. I wouldn't have let you leave me either. I'm glad I don't have to make you stay,"
"Possessive much?" I joked, and his pearly blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he smiled at me. "Oh, very. From your beautiful head to your toes, you belong to me, hm? I'll get you a collar that says 'Property of Kirill' on it some day."
I laughed.
But he wasn't joking.
x X x
an:
HEY GUYS HEHEHEHEHE
mkay so, i need your thoughts on this chapter. it's kinda half assed, but I wanted to explain the title & overall idea of this book.
also, regarding the questions about Alexander being the next book,
no. this will not be a series.
I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!! thank you for the support on this book so far, it means a lot to me & I adore each & every one of you.
yours always
delida