Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Maybe things have changed, Alyona. It's been a couple of years since you.
My inner voice is an asshole and so are those fucking twins. They should have told me they had a girlfriend. A freaking girlfriend. I’m going to puke.
“You look a little green there, Alyona.” The girlfriend says my name and I shake my head to clear it. So, she remembers who I am too. Great, someone else I need to hope doesn’t let slip to people back home.
“Honey, we're home. Don’t be alarmed. Z is naked. We had to burn his clothes.” Rodion’s voice follows the beeping of the alarm being disengaged and I count the pulse throbbing in my neck to keep my composure.
As soon as he rounds the doorframe, he freezes, like a deer caught in the headlights. The stunned look on his face would be comical if I weren’t rotting from the inside out. This is what dying must feel like. Scooping up Roza, I flee.
After pulling Roza’s blankie up over her chest, I stroke her cheek. Her eyes closed as soon as I put her down. I wish I could still take naps.
Busying myself collecting some of her stuff, I quietly close her bedroom door, go to the room I’ve been using, and throw a few of my things into one of the small suitcases I brought here with me.
I can’t fucking stay here. No way. I won’t run but I won’t stay here either. It’s about time I got us our own apartment. Viktor will give me work and the twins and I can co-parent like normal people do. Tears burn my eyes, and I swipe them angrily from my cheeks. If they’re fucking her down there, I might die for real. Rubbing at the ache in my chest, I take a second to steady my breathing. This isn’t anger, its grief, and it’s overwhelming.
Grief for what we were, what we could have been. Sadness for having left them in the first place and causing this crack in us all. Sadness for hoping we could mend it.
A startled screech flees my lungs when the door crashes open and bounces off the wall. Rodion enters followed by Z. “What the fuck are you doing?” Z snarls, dipping his eyes to my suitcase. He’s only wearing boxer briefs and shoes, he looks absurd and gorgeous.
Damn him.
“I’m not running, Z. I was just going to stay with Vika to give you all some space,” I lie, scrubbing my eyes. I’d rather stay on a park bench than with Vika.
“The fuck you are,” Z growls, snatching my suitcase and tipping the contents out all over the floor.
“Was that necessary?” I blanch.
“Yes,” they both say in unison.
This room feels too small with them in it, caging me in. A determination radiating from them both is leaving the air too thick to draw breath.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” Rodion takes purposeful steps toward me, crowding his full body over mine and making my heart leap. “You live here. This is your home.” His intense gaze bores into me. “Is that clear?”
“What about your girlfriend?” The word girlfriend almost sticks in my throat.
“Nikita works for us. She’s here to do a job at the club, nothing else.” His breath brushes against my skin sending a wave of goosebumps over my flesh.
“But you were fucking her.” I swallow hard and chance looking up into his face. The air squeezes from my lungs. There’s no color in his eyes, just shrouded black smoke from his blown pupils.
“And you were fucking some small-cocked, weak-spined asshole, but that was then and this is now.”
Touché.
“And what is now?” I ask, hearing the vulnerability crack in my own voice.
“Now, we show you how much we fucking missed you.”
My mouth pops open in surprise, but before I can articulate a single thought, his large palms cradle my face firmly. In an instant, he crashes his lips against mine, in an all-consuming kiss that feels both crushing and electrifying. The heat of his tongue battles with my own, igniting a fire deep within me. The world around us fades and all that’s left is raw, desperate need. I lose myself to the kiss, to him. He fucks my mouth with his tongue like it’s his life mission, devouring all the moans he elicits from my body.
Pulling back, he drinks me in, lips swollen, eyes glassed over, chest panting and then Z’s hard body is behind me, twisting my hair in his fist, tilting my head back so I have no choice but to look up at him.
“We’re going to show you how much we fucking love you,” he confesses and euphoria washes through my bloodstream. My body trembles with anticipation.
This is real.
This is happening.
Rodion’s mouth nips and licks down my neck, his palm splaying at the base of my throat in ownership, while Z sucks and tastes the skin over my shoulder, neck, and back. It’s a full assault on the senses. Our movements are hurried and desperate as we remove the boundaries of clothes between us. When I’m bare between them, skin-to-skin, my eyes lock with Rodion, and he grasps me under the arms, lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, memory, and there’s no waiting, no teasing, we all fucking need this now. He maneuvers me straight down onto his thick, firm shaft, gliding me down the full length, stretching me around his girth, making us both hiss from the delicious contact.