Alexi presses his lips against mine in a fierce kiss, moving faster and sending his cock deeper than I thought was possible. “Milk me,” he says hoarsely, “squeeze the come out of me into your fiery little cunt.”
So, I do.
The room is silent, aside from the sound of our panting. I hold him tighter, my face buried in the spot when his neck meets his shoulder. When he put my hand over his heart, I’d hoped for one stupid moment that he was pledging himself to me. Instead, he pledged my safety. As if I’m another one of his duties.
Kissing his sweaty skin, I fight off the familiar feeling of worthlessness that haunted most of my past. He may not love me yet, but even the Angel of Death has a heart, and I’m going to find my way inside it.
Chapter Eighteen
In which we learn that the phrase “holiday spirit” is an unknown one to Alexi.
Lucya…
Two weeks later…
“Could we get a Christmas tree?”
Alexi looks up from his laptop and frowns. “A tree?” He says it with complete incredulity, as if a Christmas tree is something so outrageous and offensive that he can’t believe I uttered the words out loud.
“Well, yeah.” I gesture around the living room. “I recognize it might disturb the symmetry of your all-black home decor, but maybe I could find lumps of coal to hang on it instead of ornaments.”
He spreads his long arms over the back of the couch, eyeing me with interest. “Are you saying that my-ourhome looks like the inside of a cave?”
Is thishumor?His gorgeous face rarely changes expression so it’s hard to tell. “Well,” I flounder, “I know we won’t celebrate Christmas until January seventh in St. Petersburg, but we live in Boston, so you know… when in Rome?”
“If you like,” he looks down at his laptop again.
“What about a couple of wreaths, maybe?” I don’t know if I’m pushing my luck.
“You’re welcome to decorate however you like,” he says with a hint of a smile. “Unless you want those hideous inflatable things. None of those. Ah, that reminds me.” He takes an envelope from the desk drawer and hands it to me.
It’s a black credit card with my name on it. I can tell from the look of it that it’s one of those,‘I have no limit so buy the most expensive thing on the planet… hell, buy the planet’type of cards. “I don’t need something like this,” I say, trying to hand it back. “I don’t even want the responsibility of having it in my wallet.”
His hand goes around the back of my neck and he pulls me closer. “You’ve been struggling for the last four years, working yourself to the bone to support your sister’s spending habits. I doubt you’ll come home with a Lamborghini and a pet tiger - though with that credit line, youcouldbuy them.”
I have to laugh. “No pet tigers. Well, there goes your Christmas present.”
Looking mildly bemused, he says, “I don’t need any gifts.”
“It’s Christmas!” I’m scandalized. “You must have gifts! What does your family do?”
“We don’t do anything,” he says. “My brothers and I occasionally give each other a good bottle of vodka or scotch.”
“That’s so…” I want to say incredibly depressing. I want to say that it sounds lonely and miserable. Instead, I say, “That’s different. Is it all right if I give you a present or two? You don’t have to get me anything,” I hasten to add.
Alexi shrugs as if the concept of a warm, loving holiday is impossible to process. “If you wish.”
“You really weren’t kidding about the security thing, were you?”
Alexi takes me downstairs, clutching my black card, where I find four men standing by a black Maserati SUV. I recognize two of them from that night when Alexi and I had sex.
Brushing that thought away before my face turns an unattractive tomato shade, I give them a nod as he introduces each man.
“This is Artur, David, Ioann, and Pyotr.” Each man is wearing a dark suit with their hands folded in front of them. They all look like they could tear a grown man’s head off with their bare hands if necessary, which I guess is a comfort. “Pyotr will be your personal guard.”
“Skuchat' Dubrovin, Miss Dubrovin, it is an honor,” Pyotr intones. He’s a little older than the others with silvered hair and a serious amount of bulk. He and Alexi must be eating raw meat and lifting tractor tires together. To be honest, it doesn’t really look like he thinks it’s an honor, but he nods politely and I smile back.
“I’m pleased to meet you all,” I say, “I’m very boring, so I won’t be making your job any harder than it has to be.”
