Page 9 of Nikolai Petrov

The acrid smell of vodka hits my nose and it makes my stomach turn.

“I can’t drink this, I’ll be sick again.” I try to hand it back to him, but he narrows his eyes.

“No, drink. You’re withdrawing from the drugs. This will help. You can wean yourself off the alcohol once you’re done.” The soft fabric of his robe drifts over my foot and it sends a shiver up my back.

“How do you know this will work?” I really don’t want to get sick again, but I slowly sit up and drape my feet over the edge of the bed.

I didn’t really need to, but there’s a piece of me drawn to his warmth.

“I’ve dealt in drugs my entire life.” The bed dips as he leans over me, his face just inches from mine.

Small lines at the edges of his caramel colored eyes deepen as his cheeks tighten in his scrutiny. “Do not make me spank you for being naughty and questioning me.”

I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Either way, it sends a strange thrill through me.

Wide eyed, I throw back the burning liquor. I can’t recall ever having vodka, despite my father’s Russian roots.

Now I know why. It burns like acid going down my throat.

He stands back and laughs, a deep, throaty baritone. “You take the cum of the Motherland well, little bird. There is hope for you yet.” He gestures for the glass and puts them on the bedside table.

Fire works its way across my cheeks. No one has ever talked like that to me.

My stomach knots and drags me back groaning into a ball on his bed. Chills wrack spasms through me, jerking my knees against my chest.

Falling into the pain, I nearly forget where I am.

Chapter Five

Nikolai

She’shuddledintoaball, mewling in pain, and all I can focus on is the soft curve of her ass and the tease of her pussy just inches from my aching cock.

Every little gasping moan makes my nuts twitch.

Having her under me is burned into my skin. Her hips digging into me, the delicate pulse beneath my fingers, it is a brutal reminder of how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman here in my bed.

I’m torn if I should stroke myself off, or slip the pink panties out of my way and sink into her.

Ivanov, what hell have you pushed to my home?

Fucking shit.

I stalk to my dresser and dig out a pair of boxer briefs. I rarely wear them, but tonight I’ll pretend to have couth.

Curling into a ball on my bed, she looks so vulnerable. The fiery wave of her hair falls in sweaty tendrils around her shoulders. A beautiful contrast to the pale skin of her arms.

She’s making resisting her nearly impossible, even as another pained moan crests from her swollen lips and a shiver rips through her petite frame.

“Come, little bird, let us get you warm.” The chill of her body still scorches my chest as I pull her to me. She melts into me, nuzzling her nose into the hollow of my throat, her fingers pressing under my ear as she wraps them around my neck.

Laying her down next to me, she burrows even closer and I pull the blankets over us both.

I have to readjust my cock to tuck it into my waistband. It’s reaching out on its own seeking to impale her.

Leaving the light of my side table on is a logical choice. If left to the senses of the darkness, I’ll roll her over and have her warm my aching dick between her supple thighs.

Ivanov’s daughter.

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