Page 37 of Dark Possession
“Alina,” he murmurs, my name on his lips, a sigh.
He kisses me then, slow and unhurried, as if we have all the time in the world. His lips are soft, warm, moving against mine with a patience that sends warmth unfurling low in my belly. There is no rush, no battle for control—just the quiet, steady press of him, the way his hands frame my face like I’m something fragile, something precious.
I melt into him, my fingers threading through the dark waves of his hair, holding him closer. His body shifts, settling between my thighs, his weight a consuming, steady presence. The heat of his skin against mine sends a shiver through me, not from urgency but from something deeper, something that makes my chest ache.
Lev slows even more, as if he’s savoring this, savoring me. His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then lower, trailing heat down my throat, over the dip of my collarbone. Every touch, every kiss is deliberate, unrushed, like he’s learning me inch by inch.
My breath catches as his hands slide over me, as he moves in a way that feels less like claiming and more like worship. There is no desperation here, no fight for dominance. Just Lev and me, tangled in warmth and quiet longing, in whispered breaths and soft sighs, in the way he holds me like I’m something he’s afraid he’ll break.
When he notches the head of his cock against me and seats himself within me, it’s not fire and recklessness—it’s something deeper. It’s the slow, aching slide of his body against mine, the way his forehead presses to mine as he moves, as he whispers my name like it’s a prayer.
Time stretches, bends around us. The world outside ceases to exist, leaving only the steady rhythm of our bodies, the quiet gasps and murmured words between kisses. And when I finally shatter beneath him, it’s not violent—it’s soft, an unraveling, a quiet surrender to this thing between us.
Lev follows me over the edge, his arms tightening around me, his breath warm against my temple. He doesn’t pull away when he finishes. He doesn’t let go. He simply holds me, his fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns over my back, grounding me in him.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel lost.
I feel found.
Later, lying in his arms, my thoughts wander to my family. I see my mother’s tired face, etched with years of struggle, and I imagine her finally getting the care she deserves. I picture my sister, bright-eyed and full of potential, walking onto a college campus with the future wide open before her.
And then there’s me. My future.
I glance up at Lev, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my cheek. I’ve spent so long running, so long surviving, but for the first time, I want to stop. To stay.
Falling for him wasn’t something I planned. It’s something that’s happened, piece by piece, moment by moment.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let myself fall.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lev
IVAN LEANS BACK in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. His smile is thin, calculating, his cold eyes raking over me like a man sizing up a weapon—determining whether I’m sharp enough to be wielded or dull enough to discard.
“You were clever to buy the girl and use her as bait,” he muses, his voice smooth but edged with something unreadable. Approval, yes. But there’s always something more with men like him. A test beneath the praise. A warning behind the compliment.
I take the words for what they are and nod, as if this had been my plan all along. It hadn’t—not exactly—but correcting Ivan would be a mistake. Men like him respect results, not explanations. This is my moment, my chance to carve my place beside him in this brutal world.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice steady, emotionless. “I always aim to do what’s best for the family.”
Ivan studies me, his gaze steady, unblinking. He’s measuring, weighing.
“Good.” A beat of silence, then—“Now, I have someone I want you to meet.”
A faint creak of a door. Heavy steps. A presence behind my chair. I keep eye contact with Ivan. Whoever it is was waiting for their moment to enter.
Dimitri Volkov steps around and into view. The name alone sends a ripple of tension through my chest. He’s more than just one of Ivan’s men. He runs the casinos, controls the Romanov Bratva’s money flow, and from what I’ve heard, bodies drop in his wake without a sound. He’s the kind of man you don’t cross unless you’re ready to disappear.
“Dimitri will be your new handler.”
The air changes, thickening like a storm rolling in.
Dimitri doesn’t react to Ivan’s words, but I don’t miss the flicker of irritation in his ice-blue gaze. He sits beside Ivan, both of them facing me. He’s tall. Powerfully built. His dark hair is neatly combed back, the sharp cut of his suit flawless, concealing the monster lurking beneath. There’s a controlled violence about him, a quiet kind of ruthlessness that doesn’t need to be announced—it’s simply understood.
His gaze locks onto mine.
For a moment, the room feels smaller, like the walls are pressing in.
