Page 94 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

Giorgos relaxes. "You're a good man, Nikolai."

"No, I'm not," I say. "That's why you're in business with me."

Giorgos tips his head back and laughs, but I just wave Arslan towards the door. I don't find any of this shit funny.

21

BELLE

I’m tied to the chair in Nikolai’s office again. But the ropes are soft as silk, whispering like a breeze across my heated skin.

“You can have anything,” Nikolai whispers in my ear. “Beautiful Belle, just name it and it’s yours.”

He says my name like a prayer, like it’s something sacred and precious. His sinful lips glide up my throat to kiss the tender skin beneath my ear.

I close my eyes and try to contain the fire raging inside of me.

If I don’t, we’ll both burn.

“I shouldn’t,” I whisper. “I’m here to work. I need to… to work.”

“I’ll put you to work,” Nikolai says.

I smile. “That’s not what I mean.”

Nikolai kneels down in front of me, one dark brow arched. “But it’s what you want.”

He pushes my legs apart, and I realize the ties are suddenly gone. So is his office. Instead, we’re now in a dark room, and I’m sitting on the edge of an endless bed. Nikolai presses a firm hand to the center of my chest and pushes me back into the plush mattress.

“What are you—”

Then his hands are behind my knees. He lifts them over his shoulders, and I feel his warm breath between my thighs.

I’m naked. I don’t remember when I took my clothes off, and I don’t care. I can’t remember a single reason why I would deny myself this. Why I would refuse this man.

I ache for him, the blood in my veins thrumming out his name, pulsing for him.

“I can make you forget,” he breathes. He drags a finger down my slit, and I tremble.

“Make me forget what?”

He parts me with his finger, and I can tell by the cool air washing over me that I’m wet and ready for him. He’s barely touched me and I’m already on the edge.

“That I’m the leader of a Bratva,”he snarls in Russian.“And I killed a man with my bare hands.”

When I open my eyes, I’m alone and staring up at the ceiling of my hotel room. But my legs are spread and my hand is inside my panties.

Quickly, I yank my hand away and sit up, trying to shake off the dream.

Or… nightmare. It was a nightmare. Wasn’t it?

“Fuck me,” I groan.

I hear Nikolai’s deep dream voice in my head.That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to fuck you.

I’d say no, but he warned me not to lie.

I throw back the blankets and slide out of bed. My ankle stings when I put weight on it, but it’s already feeling a lot better. Nikolai’s makeshift bandage brought down the swelling, and I took an anti-inflammatory when I got home. Or, back to the hotel, anyway—which, I remind myself firmly, isnothome.

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