“Fuck…” He growls when I loop my leg around his and rub my cock against his thigh as I stroke his through the pants.
“You feelsogood.” I kiss his lips, his chin, his jaw, his throat. “I’m always so fucking feral for your taste, the way you feel, I want to devour you whole.”
He bites my jaw, moving his thigh, pressing it until my cock hurts with both pent-up pleasure and pain. “Now, stop. We’re not doing this here, where anyone can walk in.”
“We can lock the door.” I chase his lips, rubbing his cock until it’s so hard, he’s struggling to speak.
“I said no.” He shoves me against the wall and steps back, his hand grabbing my arm. “This is about the last and most dangerous place we could be hooking up in. Seriously, stop thinking with your dick.”
I wince, pain exploding across my back, but I force a grin. “Tell that to your hard cock.”
Vaughn doesn’t get the joke, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”
“Blue balls. Want to kiss it better?” I start to unbuckle my belt.
Vaughn steps toward me and I expect him to stop me, but he pulls my shirt up, and his eyes harden when he sees the purple bruises on my abdomen.
Well, fuck me sideways, I didn’t actually want him to see those.
The last thing I want is for Vaughn to realize how insignificant I am or that I’m a complete fuckup in Dad’s eyes. Maybe he’ll see me differently—as a weakling.
I try to pull the shirt down, but he shoves my hand away and lifts it higher, his eyes further narrowing and darkening the more marks he sees.
“Who did this?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I push him away, tucking my shirt into my pants, all my libido kind of disappearing at the reminder of Yaroslav’s heavy hand.
“No one would be able to hurt you like that, not even in your silly fights,” Vaughn says calmly. “Your dad still hits you.”
My fist tightens as I put my gun back in its holster. “How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“How do you know my dad hit me, let alone still?”
He swallows. “It’s not important.”
“Don’t fuck with me.” I stand toe-to-toe with him, grabbing him by the hair. “Do you pity me, is that it? Am I one of your recent charity projects?”
“That’s not?—”
Whatever he has to say is cut off as the sound of gunshots blares from the event hall.
My heart surges as I grab my gun and run, only one thought filling myhead.
Alina.
21
VAUGHN
This is about the worst timing for an attack.
The worst place, too.
Who would evendareto get on the Bratva’s bad side at such a meeting?
I don’t know, and I don’t have the time to find out right now.
