A man.
A man who loves a woman.
The realization knocks me sideways. It kills me. Because in this moment, I know what I’m going to do.
Ilya, so often in tune with my misery, grips my shoulder. “I’m sorry, bro.” He forces optimism into his tone. “She may come back. Maybe she’ll even stay.”
After everything that’s happened? I doubt that very much. Only a fool would hope for the impossible.
“She did say she was in love with you,” Ilya says. “That counts for something.”
“Yeah.” My heart isn’t in the word, though. My love is dark. It’s not a fairy-tale kind of love, the kind women dream of in their fantasies.
Even women like my Mina.
“When will you do it?” Ilya asks, correctly assuming my decision is made.
“After the job.” My heart fucking shatters. She won’t come back, I know it. “That’ll be best.”
“Yes,” he agrees solemnly. “Better not rock the boat before. We need our ducks in a row.”
We sit together in the low light on the floor like the brothers we were before. Like during the many cold, hungry nights when I consoled Ilya with a stolen loaf of bread or a not-so-funny joke, he sits with me through my darkest hour.
I dread tomorrow like no other day.
Tomorrow, I’m setting Mina free.
32
Mina
I wake up tense, the nightmare about my parents still fresh in my mind. The sun is breaking through the window in Yan’s room with a soft glow. Normally, the ordinary scene would’ve settled me, but nothing about this day is ordinary.
It’s the day we’re taking out Dimitrov.
I don’t take anything for granted, not the familiarity of the warm light nor the snugness of the cozy covers. Every minute is precious. Every second counts. Yet I can’t find peace in the moment. I can’t appreciate the warmth of Yan’s body that’s pressed against mine or the pretty way dust particles dance in the wedges of sunlight. Unease stirs in my belly, something indefinable poking at my nerves. This is odd. I’m usually calm before a job. The men’s edginess must be rubbing off on me.
Yan’s breathing is rhythmic, his nose buried in my neck, but he’s awake. I don’t need to see his face to know. I’m always in tune with him these days.
“Sleep well?” he whispers against my ear, scraping his stubble down my neck.
I shiver at the delicious friction. “Like a baby.” I feel good this morning, and I say a silent prayer of gratitude for the mercy. I need my strength and wits today.
Turning me onto my back, Yan stretches out over me. The heat of his naked skin makes my body come alive, the hardness of his erection nudging between my thighs lighting an instant fire in my veins. He holds my gaze as he grips my wrists and lifts them above my head. Drinking in my expression, he rubs the head of his cock through my slickness before pushing all the way inside. My breath catches from the thrill of the sudden stretch, and goosebumps break out over my skin, the follicles contracting with intense pleasure and a strange, soothing kind of pain.
“Good?” His voice is lazy and still gravelly from sleep, but his eyes are alert and observant, watching my expression as he pulls out almost all the way and slides back to the hilt.
Biting my lip, I throw back my head. The only answer I can manage is a blink.
He kisses my neck, sucking on the skin beneath my ear. “That’s my girl.”
The approval in his tone makes me melt. The unease drifts away on a wave of passion as he starts to move with an easy pace while lifting his head to study me once more. The way he stares at me with naked hunger, willing me to open myself up and submit to my feelings, is as potent as a physical touch. The way he devours me with a simple regard evokes a pleasure as intense as the stroking of his cock over the sensitive nerve endings inside me.
Being held down like this, taken with his body and eyes, has me responding to him in no time. Despite his leisurely movement, my pleasure builds fast. I’m drowning in need underneath his muscular weight. He’s testing his power over me, how hard he can make my body bow, how long he can hold me on the edge before I lose all sense of time and place. All the while, he scrutinizes me with those jewel-green eyes, reveling in my reaction, reverently observing every gasp and moan.
When I reach my limit, that dark, dangerous place where hearts are stolen and minds are lost, he rewards me with relief. Rolling his hips, he applies just the right amount of pressure on my clit to allow me an escape from the maddening prison of need he’s trapped me in. He unlocks the chains and permits my heart to take flight on a peak of pleasure. The ecstasy is so severe I’m barely cognizant of my name. How easily he takes my reason.
He lets me finish completely before he comes, filling my body with his seed. He pumps until he’s empty, and then thrusts some more. He moves with the feverish determination of a man trying to spill his mark and possession into me. It’s no different from every other time we’ve fucked, and yet, it’s not the same. As he rests his forehead against mine, squeezing my wrists, we’re completely aligned. The last disharmonious note has fallen in tune. Our coupling is perfect.
