Page 76 of Dance of Devils
So needless to say, there’s a reason I don’t have many people close to me in my life. Trust is part of it, but I also simply don’thavemuch family.
Polina, my sister, was saved that night because my father got her to publicly disown our family. She went to live with the family of one of her classmates and eventually married a good man.
They’re both dead now. But her son, my nephew Damian, is very much part of my life. For a while, it seemed like he’d be taking over the Nikolayev empire one day, but he recently married Hana Mori, sister of Kenzo Mori, the leader of the Mori-kai Yakuza. He’s still involved with the Nikolayev organization, of course. But his life is in Japan now, with Hana and the family they’re starting soon.
Then there’s my half-nephew here in New York. We’re close enough, but for various reasons—me thepakhanof a Bratva family, him the don of an Italian one—we’ve decided to keep our relationship quiet. It’s just…easier.
And then there’s Freya, the daughter I didn’t even know about until recently, who’s also married into the Mori-kai family now. Her mother and I only knew each other briefly, when we were barely eighteen. It was a lifetime ago, and ultimately never something I think either of us wanted…and she, too, is long dead.
I take another sip of whisky, setting the photograph down with a sigh.
Needless to say, it would be pretty easy for a shrink to figure out why I stay away from personal relationships.
I have what I need: my nephews, the daughter I’ve reconnected with. Isaak, in a way, but that’s it.
There's been the occasional woman over the years, of course. But I’ve never pursued anything beyond a single night with any of them. When you let people in, they get leverage. Or else they become weaknesses. Vulnerabilities.
I’ve built everything I have on control and discipline. And Brooklyn Ellis is theexactkind of complication that takes that control and upends it.
Whatever fucked-up part of me wants to protect her, to save her from her demons, it needs to be cut the fuckout.
I finish the last of my drink, eyes fixed on the city beyond the window again.
Enough.
This thing with Brooklyn ends, here and now.
For her sake, if nothing else.
17
BROOKLYN
Over the last few weeks,I’ve run the gamut of different emotions as the rehearsal day draws to close, knowing what comes next.
Namely, Kir, and our private lessons.
Nervousness. Apprehension. Fear. Giddiness. Excitement. The urge to rise to his challenges, and the equally strong urge to dump something foul over his head to evokesomekind of emotion other than his strict, at times overbearing authoritarianism. Something to mess up his perfect, gorgeous exterior.
Other times, yes, it’s been a mashup of schoolgirl crush and outright desire.
I mean the man is fuckingbeautiful, with a sinful body and eyes that turn me into a puddle.
But the sensation simmering inside me today as our meeting time approaches is new. It churns inside me like burning fuel, filled with hungry, yearning need.
And it's all down to the fact that last night, things went to a new level, when he bent me over his knees, pulled my shorts down, andspanked me.
Touched me, and rammed his thick fingers into me, making me feel something I’ve never felt before.
I mean that quite literally.
I'm pretty sure I’ve come before. Sort of. But only with myself, and only in a way that feels like the “big O” that everyone raves about has beenwayoverhyped. I mean it feelsgood, I guess, when I rub my clit or grind a pillow between my legs. It’s like a sneeze, but more. It makes me smile after for about five seconds before it just sort of…goes away.
Thatcannotbe what everyone always gushes about like it’s the most amazing thing on Earth. But there’s never been anything I could do about it. What I feel with my fingers or a pillow is as much as I can coax out of myself.
This has, unsurprisingly, led to not much in the way of experiences with other people. I'm sure the various traumas I endured in the foster system didn’t exactly help, but the fact that I’ve never had “that” kind of mind-blowing orgasm has prevented me from really trying with anyone else.
And then all that changed last night, when Kir put me over his knee, spanked me, and tore something out of me unlike anything I’ve experienced before.
