Twilight Sins: Chapter 42
Twilight Sins (Kulikov Bratva Book 1)
I was right on the verge of a happy dream. The air is warm and languid, the murmur of the pool lapping at the deckâs edges is pleasant, and all is quiet.
Then a shadow falls over me.
âWhat the fuck are you wearing?â
I yelp and jolt up, just as Yakov pops the strap of my bikini top. I instinctively cross my arms over my chest to make sure the girls donât spill out. âWhat are you doing here?â
More specifically, what is he doing hovering over me like the angel of death? His mouth is twisted into a frown and his eyes are narrowed. Heâs looking at me like Iâm the one who just interrupted his Corona commercial of an afternoon.
âIâm trying to figure out why youâre naked by my pool.â
âIâm not naked. Iâm wearing a swimsuit.â
âIâve seen you naked. I know what it looks like.â His green eyes make a slow study of my body. âIt looks a hell of a lot like this.â
I uncross my arms and lie down again. My back may or may not be slightly more arched than it was a second ago. No one can be sure.
âItâs called a bikini, Yakov.â
He kneels down next to me, still smoldering. âItâs called âtwenty-four hour surveillance.â Do you have any fucking clue how many guards have been watching you sit out here in your âbikini?ââ He drawls the last word with a dose of sarcasm that even Mariya would be impressed by.
I roll my eyes. âIf you canât control your employees, thatâs your problem. Not mine.â
A second later, a towel lands ungracefully on my head.
âHey!â I throw the towel to the ground and stand up. âLast I checked, Iâm free, remember? Unless you have handcuffs and a prison jumpsuit youâd like me to wear instead, Iâm going to wear whatever the hell I want.â
âHandcuffs.â His eyes flash. âThereâs an idea.â
My entire body shivers despite the warmth. âIt was a joke. Donât get ahead of yourself.â
He closes the distance between us, wrapping an arm around my lower back so I canât escape. âAs long as men on my payroll are in the guard shack watching you, youâre not going to run around in nipple pasties and a thong. Cover yourself. Or Iâll do it for you.â
I slap my hands against his chest. He might as well be a brick wall for as much as he moves, but after a moment, he releases my waist and takes a step back.
âWhatâs the new rule then? Is this like a school dress code? Maybe you should write down everything I can and canât wear so I can keep track of it all.â
I plant my fists on my hips. Squaring off with Yakov is laughable. Heâs so broad that when heâs standing in front of me, there isnât anything else. He fills my entire vision. My entire brain.
âHow about I make it easy for you to remember?â A dark strand of hair falls over his forehead and my fingers itch to smooth it away. âIf Iâve put my mouth there and made your knees buckle, no one but me should see it.â
I gulp. Looks like Iâll be wearing a circus tent then.
âMy body doesnât have a âyou break it, you buy itâ rule,â I snap past the embarrassed knot in my throat. âYouâve touched me, but you donât own me.â
I shove against his chest again with all the strength I have out of a sudden, wild impulse to dunk his infuriating ass in the aqua-blue pool behind him. But this time, he doesnât budge. Not even a hair out of place.
Yakov wraps his massive hands around my wrists and peels them off of him with a cruel chuckle. âNice try, princess.â
I scowl. âIt seemed like you needed to cool off.â
âIf I need something, Iâll let you know.â His hands slip to my waist. âYou, however, are burning up.â
âNo! No, Iâm not.â
He runs a finger along my neck. âDripping with sweat.â
âItâs tanning oil, Yakov.â
He shakes his head, dangerous amusement sparking in his eyes. âNo. Youâre burning up, Luna. Very, very hot.â
Yakov picks me up and spins me towards the pool.
âNo! Stop! Donâtâ!â I shriek and flail, but thereâs no loosening his hold on my waist. So I do the only thing I can: I attach myself to him. I throw my arms around his neck and hook my legs around his waist just as he readies to throw me.
It brings things to a grinding halt. Emphasis on the âgrinding.â With his body pressed against mine, the miniscule amount of fabric covering me really does feel like nothing. Especially when I feel the hard length of him against my inner thigh.
Yakovâs eyes are dark. Heâs staring down at me like heâs starving. Like Iâm the only thing he has been craving.
I shouldnât like it as much as I do.
âCheckmate,â I say, my voice shaking.
âYou think I canât still get you wet?â he says in a deep rumble.
Holy hell. Either thatâs a doozy of a double entendre or my brain is filthy.
âNot without soaking yourself, too.â
He smirks and I feel the heat of it in my toes, my fingertips, everywhere.
âOh, solnyshka⦠thatâs a sacrifice Iâm willing to make.â
Then Yakov turns and jumps in the pool.
We hurtle through the air for what feels like forever, but Iâm snug against Yakovâs chest. Even when we crash through the water, he doesnât falter. We sink down together and rise up quickly, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.
When we reach the surface, I donât even have time to inhale before Yakovâs mouth is over mine.
His hand curves around my neck. Possessive, brutal. He parts my lips with his tongue and slides deep. Itâs like Iâm still underwater. Like Iâm sinking in him, happy to drown in this.
He tugs on the tie around my neck and my flimsy bikini top falls. Yakov brushes his thumb over my ribs, shifting higher with every stroke. If he keeps getting me hot and bothered like this, the pool water is gonna start boiling.
His hand slips to the tie at my hip and pesky reality breaks through.
âThe guards,â I breathe, pulling back to look at him. âYou said the guardsâ ââ
âNo one is watching. My men know better.â He sucks on the soft curve behind my ear while his hands knead my ass.
âBut⦠you said there were guards watching me.â He walks me to the edge of the pool and pins me between the tile wall and his body. The brush of his cock against my inner thigh makes it hard to think. âI thought I was under âconstant surveillance.ââ
His voice goes hoarse. âYou are. But I warned all of them what Iâd do if they looked at you for any reason other than what was strictly required for protection.â
âYou told them not to look at me?â
âThey were probably breaking their necks trying to look away when you walked outside wearing this.â He undoes the tie around my back, freeing me of the top entirely.
âWhy?â
He knows exactly what I mean. Why would he do that? Why would he bother to tell his men not to look at me?
âBecause,â Yakov explains, massaging his hands up my thighs until his thumbs stroke the last thin strip of fabric covering me, âno one else gets to enjoy what is mine.â
I want to tell him Iâm not his. Actually, I want to want to tell him that. The reality is that every word out of his mouth is one more nail in the coffin of my dignity.
At least it died for a good cause. A good-looking cause, rather.
âHow do you do that?â I whisper. âYou say things like that⦠Things that should terrify me. But instead, they justâ¦â
His thumbs circle higher, closer. Heâs sweeping over my slit, dragging delicious friction over my clit. âJust what?â
I lick a drop of water from his neck and press my lips to his ear. âThey make me really, really wet.â
A growl rumbles through his chest. He tugs my bottoms to the side and presses the tip of his dick to my entrance. âI know what you want, Luna. And you know only I can give it to you.â
Then the time for talking is over with. He presses into me slowly, letting me adjust to the size of him. I tip my head back against the lip of the pool and let out a long, broken sigh. He keeps going for what feels like an eternity. Iâm taking and taking him until I can barely breathe. That sigh slows to a whimper, then to nothing at all.
When heâs fully seated in me, he draws back and fills me again. The water slows his thrusts so I have no choice but to feel every single inch of him sliding against me. Itâs a slow, devastating drag in and out. The heat and strength of his body, cool pool water lapping at my nipplesâIâm burning up and freezing at the same time.
His hand dips below the water and then his thumb is on my clit. He pulls and pinches until Iâm vibrating.
âYou might as well get the first one out of the way,â he advises with a dark laugh. âNo point in delaying the inevitable.â
I squeeze my eyes closed. My mouth falls open and a string of moans and jumbled thoughts pours out of me as I pulse around Yakov. By the time Iâm done coming, Iâm drooling.
Yakov kisses my neck. âYouâre so fucking beautiful when I make you come.â
I peek one eye open to see heâs watching me. His pupils are blown so wide that his eyes are nearly black. I literally just came, but the look in his eyes makes me immediately want to do it again and again.
As long as heâll keep looking at me like that, Iâll do anything he wants.
I wrap my arms around his neck and angle my hips until he fills me all the way again. âAm I still beautiful when I make you come?â I tease.
Yakov spins around so heâs the one against the wall. It takes every muscle I have to impale myself on his cock again and again. He made it look easy. No surprise there.
As I grind up and down his throbbing cock, he presses his forehead against mine and murmurs, âOnly one way to find out.â
Thatâs when I kick the turbo jets on. I ride him as hard as I can, panting between kisses, stroking my fingers through his damp hair, until finally, Yakov goes rigid.
âFuck, Luna.â His fingers dig into my hips as he jerks and spills into me. The strain in his voice as he says my name is enough to send me over the edge with him.
I lie my head on his chest as I finish. His heart is thundering at the same rate as mine.
Back inside, I wait for Yakov to abandon me for his office. Heâll find some excuse to leaveâa meeting, a call. But he follows me down the hall to his room. Our room, for all intents and purposes.
I bend down to find a pair of jeans from my bottom drawer and Yakov growls.
âThat fucking bikini.â He pulls his damp shirt over his head, and just like that, Iâm the one biting back a groan. It should be illegal for him to look that good and glisten. I half-expect his hair to start blowing in a nonexistent breeze.
âYouâre so dramatic.â
âYouâre gonna kill someone in that thing.â
âI canât tell if you love it or hate it,â I remark, padding into the bathroom to change. I shouldnât be embarrassed changing in front of him, but it feels too domestic for whatever it is thatâs happening between us.
âIt depends who youâre wearing it for.â I hear drawers opening and closing in the bedroom. âIf youâre wearing it for me, I fucking love it.â
I bite the corner of my mouth to hide a smile. âAnd if itâs for someone else?â
Iâm sliding on my jeans when Yakov appears behind me. I catch the flex of his jaw in the reflection of the mirror. He cups his hands over the bikini top, crumpling the fabric in his hands. âIf itâs for someone else, then Iâm going to shred it, burn it, scatter the ashes to the wind, and then cuff you spreadeagled to a bed so I can remind you that no other man will ever touch you the way I do.â
As good as that sounds, I canât lie. The growly, snarly, no-one-else-should-ever-fucking-dare possessiveness in his voice has wiped my brain completely clean. Iâm not capable of giving him anything except the truth.
âItâs for you,â I whisper. âThereâs no one else.â
He nods, satisfied. âGood.â
Then Yakov turns and retreats back into the bedroom like nothing happened.
Meanwhile, I grip the edge of the sink and dunk my face in the cold water. Suffice it to say that he and I handle sexual tension in very different ways.
My legs are still unsteady when I walk out a few minutes later to find Yakov fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Whatâs happening here? I want to ask. What am I to you?
But I canât force the words out. Iâm afraid whatever I say will break this tenuous balance weâve found. If I ask the wrong question or push too hard, the walls of this sandcastle weâre living in will crumble.
âI heard you spent the day with my sister.â
There it is. The familiar hot-and-cold teeter-totter. Melt my skin with naughty words one second. Interrogate me about your sister the next.
I arch a brow. âHow do you know that? You said I wasnât being watched.â
âYouâre always being watched, but never looked at. Thereâs a difference.â Yakov illustrates that difference by taking his eyes on a slow, thorough tour of my body. If he likes what he sees, he shows no sign of it.
I wrap my arms around myself self-consciously. âMariya and I didnât get off on the best foot this morning and I wanted to fix things. I kind of latched onto her when she got back from the mall. I guess it worked. She asked me to sit by the pool with her.â
âYou wore that to sit with my sister by the pool?â He blows out a ragged breath.
I decide right here and now to never tell Yakov that his sister originally bought the bikini for herself. Heâs been through too much trauma as it is.
âShe thought it was very cool. Body positivity is all the rage with the teens.â I shrug. âBut she opened up to me a bit. About⦠everything.â
âNik talked to her for half an hour this morning and she didnât say a word, but she opened up to you. Un-fucking-real.â
I chew on my lower lip. âIâm sorry. I didnât want to overstep, butâ ââ
He waves me off. âWhat did she say?â
âI think it all boils down to her being lonely. She missed you and Nikandr when she was away. Sheâs happy to be back and she wants to feel welcome here.â
âThat would be a lot easier if Iâd had a single goddamn clue she was coming.â Yakov drags a hand down his jaw. âShe showed up out of nowhere and expects life to stand still for her. Nik and I have shit to do.â
âShe knows that.â
Yakov gives me a sharp look.
âIâm not picking sides,â I tell him hurriedly. âIâm just saying⦠Mariya wants to know you and Nik. She wants this place to be her home. Can you blame her?â
âHardly.â
âI see the confidence streak runs in the family.â
Yakov smiles and then stands up with a sigh. âWell, keep talking to her. Right now, youâre the only person Mariya even remotely likes. If sheâs going to talk, Iâd rather it be with someone I trust.â
Yakov trusts me.
Ka-boom. There goes another bombshell.
I bite back a smile and nod. âAbsolutely. Whatever you want.â