Page 86 of Born into Madness
“Sasha,” I start to say, but my words are cut off on a sharp intake of breath when he grabs my hand and slowly sucks my ring finger into his mouth. His tongue twirls around my digit, coating it in his saliva before he pulls back and I feel the metal of the ring at the tip of my finger. Using his lips, he very slowly lowers his mouth down until the ring is firmly in place on myleft hand. Pulling back, he sucks hard, making every part of my body throb with need. When he lets me go, there’s a gorgeous engagement ring on my finger and my fiancé is giving me one of his rare, full smiles.
“It’s so beautiful,” I say, running my finger over the marquise cut ruby and the small diamonds that accent it and curve around the sides. The band looks like a black gold, thin and feminine, and the entire thing has Sasha written all over it from the blood-red color of the ruby to the black band and the beauty of the smaller diamonds. It’s the perfect mix of the two of us, and I would’ve chosen this ring out of a million.
His large hand slides under mine, and then he lifts it and with his light-blue eyes on mine, he gently kisses the ring on my finger. “I never thought I’d have a fiancée,” he admits with a soft laugh, “but this ring could only ever belong to you. I could never give my life to anyone else.”
My throat feels tight and my eyes are watery, but I still manage a smile and say in a shaky voice, “You never did ask me, you know.”
His eyes grow heated when he kisses my hand again and says, “I don’t need to,krovinka, because you’ve always been mine. You were born mine, just like I was born yours. The ring is just a visual reminder that you belong to me, and any man who doesn’t respect that will learn exactly how sharp I keep my knives and how long I can prolong a death.”
I can’t resist leaning closer and planting a kiss on his gorgeous, smirking mouth. We definitely need to keep going over the no-kill ground rules, but right now I’m too happy to do anything other than kiss the man I’m going to marry. I cup his face and pull him closer as he settles in between my thighs and threads his fingers into my hair.
The kiss is broken up when Chort whines and shoves his wet nose between us. I start laughing while Sasha tries notto. He scratches the Doberman behind his ears and calls him a cockblocker. Chort lets out another growly whine and puts his paw on Sasha’s arm. Their relationship is adorable and a constant source of amusement for me.
“I think he wants you to throw the ball for him before we leave,” I say, and as soon as Chort hears the B-word, his ears perk up and his butt starts wiggling.
Sasha groans, but I can tell he doesn’t mind. “All right, I’ll wear him out while you get ready.”
I watch them both walk out to the back door, taking a few seconds to admire Sasha’s broad shoulders and firm ass before running up the stairs. It doesn’t take me long to freshen up and grab my purse. I’m about to step out of the closet when I see something on one of his shelves that stops me in my tracks. The familiar skull mask is sitting on its own, and the very sight of it floods me with memories. Watching those men die had been horrific, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still occasionally see the gruesome images in my dreams, but I also remember him wearing this while we shared our first moments together, the way his light-blue eyes looked both eerie and sexy looking out from behind the mask, and the brilliant smile he’d flashed me when he’d lowered it and we’d shared our first kiss.
The truth is I don’t hate the mask. I kind of like it, and without thinking too much about it, I grab it and shove it into my purse. By the time I get downstairs, Sasha and Chort are walking in, one of them giving me a sexy grin and the other with his tongue lolling out. I wait while Sasha gets him fresh water and food, and then we get in the Jeep and I prepare myself for the meeting that’s about to take place.
I’m quiet on the drive, and Sasha doesn’t force me to talk. He rests his hand on my thigh, giving me his comfort and letting me know I’m not alone. I haven’t told him everything about my childhood. He knows my mom and I have a difficult relationshipand he knows I’m not close with my stepdad, but I haven’t told him why yet.
When we’re only a few minutes away, he gives my thigh a gentle squeeze and breaks the silence. “You want to tell me why you’re so nervous? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t mind going in blind, Cyn, but I should warn you that I’m pretty good at picking up on things, so I’ll figure it out one way or another.”
I know he’s right, but I also know I don’t want him going into this with murder on his mind. Well, any more than it usually is. I decide to give him a watered down version of things and say, “My mom and stepdad were alcoholics while I was growing up.” I pause before adding, “It wasn’t all that great for me.”
I feel more than see Sasha tense. I swear every muscle in his body goes rigid at my words. He tries to keep his tone neutral when he asks, “They abused you?”
“I was fine,” I try to tell him. “Sav’s mom was an angel. Grace took care of me when my mom couldn’t. She and Gary were like a second set of parents to me, and they never made me feel bad about it. I’ll always be grateful to them. Anyway, my mom and Billy sobered up a year ago. They go to meetings now. They’re trying their best.”
Sasha makes a noncommittal soft grunt of a noise, so I quickly say, “Things have gotten better between us. I mean, it’s still a bit rough, but I no longer live with them, and that makes things easier. They’re helping me pay for college, which I’m grateful for, and I think we’re slowly figuring out a way to get along.”
It’s obvious I’m grasping at straws, but he’s kind enough to not call me out on it. “I’m sure they’ll love you,” I say, and that makes him laugh.
Threading his fingers through mine, he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “My little Cyn is always so sweet.” Helooks over at me when we hit a red light. “They’re going to see a dangerous, tattooed man and immediately assume the worst. They’re going to hate me,krovinka,but I don’t care. I only care about what you think of me.”
“Well, I love you,” I tell him, feeling everything inside me light up when I see the smile he gives me.
He kisses my hand again. “Then I have everything I could ever want or need.”
I’m always surprised by how sweet Sasha can be, and every time he shows me this side of himself, I know he’s giving me a precious gift, something special that he only reserves for me. It’s a great feeling, and I’m still riding the high from it when he turns the corner and I see the apartment I grew up in at the end of the street. Suddenly nervous again, I feel my palms start to sweat when Billy’s truck comes into view. I’d been secretly hoping someone might have a plumbing emergency this evening, but luck is evidently not on my side when it concerns my stepdad.
Sasha parks on the street, but before we go in, he turns to me and says, “Have you learned how to sayI wantin Russian yet?”
“Yeah,” I say, angling my hips so I can turn and see him better.
“Let me hear it.”
It embarrasses me to fumble my way around words that he speaks so effortlessly, but I ignore that feeling and say, “Ya khochu,” trying really hard to make that kh sound like the Scottish ch sound.
He winks at me. “Very good,krovinka.”
I blush at his praise, making him grin before he says, “Now try this.Ya khochu uyti.”
He pronounces it slow for me, and I try my best to mimic what sounds likeyah kha-choo oo-yee-tee. I say it a few times, and when I feel confident with it, he reaches out and runs his finger along my jaw.
“You’re very sexy when you speak Russian. I love hearing it come from your lips.”
