Page 73 of Cruel Russian King
Shit. Had our moment slipped away already?
I swallowed. I needed to still try.
“Can you please stop the revenge plan against my family? It’s affecting all of us. It's tearing us apart. I just…I just want things to go back to the way they were before.”
My words lingered in the air for a few minutes before Artyom spoke.
“Ninel…can we please just enjoy this? Enjoy us? I don’t want to think about anything else.”
The plea in his voice twisted me. I nodded and snuggled into him. I knew I couldn't push him. He didn't want to talk about it now and I'd respect that. For now, I'd focus on the man next to me.
This was us, in this moment, being who we wanted to be without judgment, away from the world. And I had planned to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
Chapter 21 - Artyom
Ninel and I stayed two days hidden away in the bunker before we returned home. I fucked her everywhere I could reach, and every time I did, it softened something in me that made my blood roar.
Outside the bedroom, she was fierce, stubborn…and fucking defiant. Yet, in the bedroom, beneath my touch…my mouth…my words…she surrendered wholly to me. That contradiction fucked with my head in a way that I'd become addicted to.
Ninel’s morning sickness had eased. Though I’d fucked her hard and unforgiving, I gave her the rest she needed, brief respites between my claiming of her. Not once was she allowed to wear clothing. Every inch of her was mine to see, taste and touch. And I made sure she knew it.
We ate together, took showers together, and fell asleep in each other’s arms like some twisted parody of a real married couple. Moments of normalcy, fleeting but fucking intoxicating.
As soon as I stepped through the front door, I received a call from Lev demanding a meeting. Now I sat next to Yegor and Zahkar, facing Lev, Jaroslav, and Marten once more. And I wasn’t hearing a damn word anyone said. My lips tingled, and my fingers itched, at the memory of her under me. My cock is so hard I wondered how the fuck I was going to walk to my car when this meeting was done.
Two uninterrupted days with Ninel wasn't enough.
I wanted more.
More days of being intimate with my wife.
More days of her falling asleep in my arms.
More days of her looking at me as though she understood me.
I wanted a real marriage.
But, what would that even look like? At age forty-two I had never had a real relationship. I'd fuck women, get my fill and never look back.
Could I be a man she could admire, or even tolerate, outside the bedroom? In the bedroom we were like a lock and a key. But, outside the bedroom? We were like fire and a fucking dry forest…disastrous.
Vera and Katya gushed over their husbands. I’d seen the longing in Nine, Kira and Mariya, the desperate hope to find husbands like Lev and Jaroslav. Somehow, they'd found a way to balance Bratva business and family life.
Could Ninel help me become something more than a manipulative, ruthless killer in a Bratva suit? Could I balance that and be a good husband and father? Could she really love me? In my entirety?
Nobody ever had.
But, I wanted her to, not because it was demanded of her because of Bratva tradition. I wanted her to willingly open up herself to me, to want me…as much as I wanted her, inside and outside the bedroom.
But, the only chance I had of getting that from her would be to settle the negotiations and stop waging war against her brothers.
Her desperate pleas to stop my revenge plan haunted me. If I stopped…would she choose to stay?
I exhaled slowly. There was only one way to find out.
“Yes,” I blurted out, ready to be done with this meeting.
“Yes? As in you'll give us total access to your information brokerage system, ten percent of your Bratva monthly drug revenues plus the pharmaceuticals we can't get access to and access to the smuggling route from New Jersey to Shanghai?” Lev asked suspiciously.
