Fractured Souls: Chapter 18

“Are you sure, Asya?” I ask as I hold the car door open for her.

“Nope.” She takes my hand and exits the car “But I need to do it anyway.”

“Okay, baby.”

With Asya’s hand clasped in mine, I head toward the back entrance of Ural. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to come to the club during the hours it’s open to the public. It’s not the same as going to the mall. Here, there will be more people in a smaller space, all crammed together. And since Ural is a more upscale place, most of the clubgoers will be wearing classy clothes, including suits on men. I know she needs to face her fears, but I don’t like the idea of her getting stressed for any reason. I want to shield her from harm. But Asya has been insisting for two weeks, so I finally caved.

We leave our jackets at the coat check and enter the main space. There are already more than a hundred people inside. Asya wraps her arm around my forearm and leans into my side, but she doesn’t falter as we head around the dance floor toward the opposite corner, bringing us near the stairs that lead to the upper level. I told the staff to remove the tables from that spot. We’re halfway to our destination when a man waves at me from one of the VIP booths and then heads in our direction. Damian Rossi. The Chicago don’s brother. He navigates through the crowd and meets us near the stairway.

“Pavel, I’ve been looking for you. How does renting this place for a night work?” He grins and looks over at Asya, offering her his hand. “I’m Damian.”

“Hi,” she says quietly but doesn’t make a move to shake his hand.

I’m barely containing my urge to tell the Italian to go to hell, but Asya seems fine. I don’t want her to think I doubt her ability to deal with the situation. She said she can handle it and, unless I notice distress, I won’t interfere.

“Rentals are limited to the Bratva members only,” I say. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing special. Some friends and I would like to throw a party, and we’re looking for a venue.” He shrugs, then turns back at Asya and his smile widens. “Would you like to come, bellissima? I didn’t get your name.”

Asya’s hold on my forearm tightens.

“Leave, Damian,” I say in a curt tone.

“What? I was just—”

I grab the front of his shirt and shove my face in his. “Turn around and leave. Right fucking now.” I snarl through my teeth.

He blinks at me in confusion and raises his hands. “Okay, man. No need for a spat, especially in front of a lady.”

I let go of his shirt and watch as he walks back to his booth.

“Do you want to leave?” I look down at Asya.

“I’m okay.” She offers me a small smile. “Let’s stay for a bit.”

When we reach my intended spot, I lean against the wall and pull Asya to stand between my legs with her back pressed to my chest. She’s wearing jeans and a simple sleeveless top with a high neckline. The fabric is soft lightweight wool and it’s in the same shade of brown as her hair.

“All good?” I ask as I wrap my arms around her waist.

“Yeah.”

We stand in silence and people watch for about ten minutes. She seems relaxed at first, but then leans more against me. Her hands come up to cover mine, squeezing my fingers.

I dip my head until my chin lands on her shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“I’m okay. Just a little uneasy. There are a lot of people.”

“Want to leave?”

She seems to be undecided for a few moments but then shakes her head. “Not yet. It’s a bit unnerving, but I can handle it. I want to experience this a bit longer.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t want her around anything that makes her uncomfortable. And I certainly don’t like the fact that she’s feeling unsettled. If she wants to stay, okay. But it’ll be under my new conditions. I spin her around, grab her under her thighs, and lift her.

She yelps in surprise and locks her feet behind my back. “Pasha?”

I face the wall, bracing her on it and letting her see the dance floor.

“Now you can keep checking things out,” I bite out.

Asya arches her eyebrows at me and smiles. “I like the new view even better.” She leans forward and presses her lips to mine. “So much better.”

I nip her lower lip. Asya sucks in a breath and tightens her legs around me. My cock swells. I can feel the heat of her pussy next to my hard length, and my dick hardens even more when she grabs at the back of my neck and sinks her teeth into my chin.

“Maybe we could head home after all,” she says into my mouth. “What do you say, Pashenka?”

I don’t reply, just turn around and carry her toward the exit.

I almost trip trying to get out of my pants without letting go of Pasha’s neck. My shoes and top are somewhere in the living room, along with his jeans and T-shirt. I’m not sure, but I think our jackets may be in the hallway in front of the elevator. Finally free of my jeans, I walk backward to the bed, trying to unclasp my bra with one hand. Pasha slips off his boxer briefs, grabs me around the waist, and throws us onto the bed. I end up sprawled on top of his chest.

“I want us to try something,” I say and nip at his chin. “I saw it online.”

“What?”

“Umm . . . it’s a position.” I smile sheepishly and scrape my teeth over my lower lip.

Pasha lifts an eyebrow. “Oh? Something specific?”

His hands slide down my back and squeeze my ass. In his hands, every inch of my skin feels as if it’s been zapped by a live wire. I still find it hard to believe how much I enjoy him touching me. Kissing me. Making love to me. I was afraid, at first, that I might freak out at some point, forgetting who he is, and flinch at his touch. The idea that it may happen was constantly present in my mind for a while. I loathed the possibility of unintentionally hurting him if I involuntarily recoiled, making him think he did something wrong. I’m not afraid of that anymore. Both my body and my mind recognize him, no matter what’s going on. Even when he’s rough. Even when he pushes me against the wall and takes me from behind. There’s not a speck of fear. Just mind-blowing pleasure.

“Yes.” I smirk and feel the heat in my cheeks.

Pasha moves his hands up my back, then takes my face between his palms, pulling me in for a kiss. “Turn around.”

“You know what I have in mind?”

“Based on how red your face is, I’m pretty sure I do.” He bites at my lip. “Come on, give me your pretty pussy.”

I flip and face his cock, leaving my pussy exposed to his mouth. Pasha grabs at my butt cheeks, pulling me closer, and buries his face between my legs. His tongue circles my entrance, then slides inside, making me gasp. As I reach for his cock, my hands are trembling from the overwhelming sensations. I squeeze his hard length and take the tip into my mouth. Pasha changes his tempo—slow licks and kisses turn frenzied—eating my pussy as if it’s dessert. The combined feeling of his tongue on my pussy and his cock in my mouth isn’t comparable to anything I’ve ever experienced before. He adds his fingers and then pinches my clit, and I come all over his face.

It takes me a few moments to recover from the high, and then I take him deeper into my throat as he keeps lapping up my juices. His breathing is labored. I can tell he’s close. I leisurely ease my mouth off his hard length and turn around to face him. Locking my eyes with Pasha’s, I position myself over his straining cock and slowly lower myself, marveling at the feel of him filling me up. Pasha’s hand shoots up, grabbing me behind my neck, and stays there as I rock my hips while he stares into my eyes, unblinking. Strained breaths leave his lips, and the muscles on his chest are taut under my palms, but it’s the look on his face that holds my attention. His jaw is clenched, his lips flattened. It seems like he wants to say something, but he’s holding back.

“What’s wrong, Pashenka?” I ask as I lift my ass, then drop back down, gasping as his cock drives deep into me.

His hold on my neck tightens, but he doesn’t utter a word. Just slams into me from below so hard that my mind goes blank. The next moment, I find myself on my back with Pasha’s body over mine. He continues to grip my neck while thrusting so fast that my body shakes and I can barely get enough air into my lungs. I love when he lets go of his steely self-control and fucks me with all his power. There’s nothing better than having him screw me until we come at the same time. It makes me feel strong, fearless, and happier than I’ve ever been. I grab his arms and shout out his name as another orgasm erupts.