Reign (The Syndicate: Crime and Passion Book 2) (5 page)

Then he stepped back.

I reached for him, but only felt air where his body had once been. I lifted heavy-lidded eyes and met his.

“Have a nice morning, Daniela,” he said.

Then he turned and walked back into the house.

S
ergei

F
uck
. I hadn’t planned to do that.

I’d wanted to kiss her, do even more, but I’d intended to keep that desire to myself. Hadn’t been able to, though, not when she was so intent on trying to push me away with her words. I’d seen the glee in her eyes, the way she’d spoken out of anger and then found what she’d thought was a path to force me to end things.

Probably so she wouldn’t have to deal with how much she wanted me. And want me she did. She could pretend, play it off how she liked, but I could see right through her front.

I started smiling despite myself.

My sweet Daniela had thought telling me she wasn’t a virgin would anger me, but it had done anything but. My desire for her hadn’t lessened since the day before; it had only grown. While I knew I would have her eventually, I’d decided to take it slow, figuring Santo had kept her under his watchful eye and knowing none of his men would risk Santo’s anger by fucking around with his kid.

I’d been mistaken, and I was quite curious as to which had had the balls to do so, but even more, I was relieved. Now, I was free to explore the connection between us without worry as to how it would affect her. That kiss had been the first step.

Her lips against mine, her soft body touching me had been better than I’d dreamed. Her eager response had been too. I hadn’t doubted it. That brief time with her had left no doubt of her attraction, but to see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she touched me, was beyond my ability to think.

If I had been less committed to my work, I’d be back there with her now, making love to her on the soft grass, something I planned to do soon.

But for now…

I pulled onto a side street and watched as Adrian seemed to materialize from the side of a building.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“There,” he said, nodding toward the squat building a little farther down the block.

“Do you know who he’s meeting?” I asked.

Adrian shook his head. “Not yet. But I will,” he said.

I didn’t doubt it. Adrian was very, very good at what he did, and soon he’d spill Michael’s secrets.

“Good,” I said.

Then I got back into my SUV and headed to the house where Santo was hiding. Or trying to, and failing. It hadn’t been my idea to take Santo’s house. That had been all Maxim, but I saw the benefit.

Without his little fortress to run to, Santo would have to rely on others, and seeing who offered him help would give me an idea of what he had planned and how he would manage to put that plan into action.

For the moment at least, there didn’t appear to be much to worry about.

I’d parked at a reasonable distance and watched, saw the steady stream of visitors that came to see Santo. I’d see who visited him today and then see who still supported him after tomorrow. Then I’d know who had to be eliminated.

I watched for hours, half my mind watching, the other half with Daniela. I knew without a doubt that I had never met anyone like her, and she was taking me off guard. She was refined, polished in a way I would never be, but I’d also started to recognize something deeper. I saw the temper she fought to keep under control. I saw the way her mind worked, how, unless she was in a fit of some of that rage, she was careful, calculating her actions before she took them.

I respected that, tried to do the same myself, though I’d never manage the level of sophistication Daniela pulled off. I wondered how she’d come to that. Certainly not from Santo, but I wanted to find out.

Wariness was necessary here. I needed to keep my guard up because as polished as Daniela was, I still didn’t know what lay underneath. Maybe she was as ruthless as her father, as ruthless as me, and maybe she was simply waiting to bury the knife in my back when she had the chance. My stomach clenched at the thought, and I hated that feeling.

I had no right expecting anything and certainly didn’t trust her, but the idea of her actively working against me didn’t sit well. It was what I would do, but I couldn’t suppress the wish that things would turn out different with her. The glimpses of her I’d seen so far intrigued me, and it had been a very long time since anything that wasn’t business had done that. For some reason, I found her utterly fascinating, and I couldn’t help but hope I’d get to learn more about her, the real her I hadn’t even begun to know.

Probably wishful thinking on my part. Definitely wishful thinking on my part. Beyond a passing physical attraction, Daniela wanted no part of this, no part of me, and I needed to keep that in mind, no matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise.

That little reminder made it possible for me to refocus, and I watched Santo’s visitors come and go. The only thing notable about them was who wasn’t among them.

During the course of the long day, Michael did not make an appearance. Whether that was because he was getting used to the change in leadership or for other, ulterior purposes remained to be seen. I’d figure it out soon enough.

As the sun dipped low, I finally left, trying to ignore the excitement at seeing her again.

Had it ever been this way for me? Sure, I’d had fun, fucked my fair share of beautiful women, but I’d never had this feeling before, pure excitement at the prospect of seeing someone. But I was excited and only got increasingly so as I got closer to Santo’s house.

I nodded at the two men stationed outside and then drove up, making sure that no outward sign of my desire to see her showed, but feeling it nonetheless. When I entered the house, I instantly knew she wasn’t there.

I bit back the immediate feeling of loss, deciding I should confirm that she wasn’t, though in my gut I knew she was gone. A quick search of the house revealed that what I had suspected was true.

Daniela was gone.

D
aniela

I
’d had to leave
.

There’d been no other choice.

The entire day, one that had been longer and more grueling than I’d anticipated left me wrung out, and leaving the house had been the one way I knew I could avoid facing him, worse, facing my desire for him.

There had been visits today, mothers and wives dropping by to congratulate me on my marriage and gather gossip for the others. No surprise there, and I’d been expecting it. These visits were the types of things I’d been groomed for my entire life, and none of them were of any note.

But Sergei… Sergei had haunted my thoughts, haunted my every moment, and by the end of the day, I’d known I was powerless to deny my attraction to him, and that powerlessness scared me.

I tried to remind myself of what my role was, remind myself that he was the enemy, but it was a failing effort. Because with every reminder came a counter that brought with it a memory of his smile, the way I’d felt when he’d been so close to me. The feeling of his lips on mine.

I was exhausted by the effort, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision, I had retreated. I’d worried that someone would stop me, but none of the guards, Sergei’s men and not my father’s, said anything. I’d considered a hotel, but the lure of my house was too strong, which was how I found myself there.

I showered, and then threw on a T-shirt, not lingering for a look in the mirror. I didn’t need a mirror to know that the muscles around my face were tense, that my eyes were clouded. At least here, I’d get a good night’s sleep without the risk of having to see him, and maybe tomorrow I’d be stronger. I went to the kitchen to get water before I fell into bed.

Leaning against the counter, I drank, staring into the living room, my mind both humming and exhausted, and filled only with thoughts of him and not my plight as it should have been.

A few moments later, the glass slipped from my hand as I watched the door in horror. My door, the one I had locked and chained, was unlocked.

Someone was coming in.

My heart leaped into my throat as I wildly looked around the kitchen, searching for a weapon. I grabbed a knife from the butcher block and looked at the door. If I had any sense, I would run, but Nora hadn’t raised a coward.

I wouldn’t run, and I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

So I stood there, knife in hand, as the chain, the one that had only minutes ago seemed sturdy, gave. The door creaked and then flew off its hinges.

And in walked my new husband.

S
ergei

T
he first thing
I saw was the smooth stretch of creamy brown thigh and small patch of black satin that covered her pussy.

The second was the gleam of the sharp knife she held.

“Ready to kill me so soon after the wedding?” I asked as I walked farther into her house. It was polished, rich-looking, just like her.

I’d never seen her like this. Her dark hair was down, the curls brushing her shoulders. I didn’t look lower, but the glimpse of her thighs and panties were enough to start my blood flowing south.

“Knocking wasn’t an option?” she asked as she put the knife down on the counter and then crossed her arms in a defensive motion that only brought more attention to her full breasts.

It had only been hours since I’d last heard her speak, but again I was reminded of how different her voice was than I had thought it would be. When I’d first glimpsed her, I’d thought her voice would match her outside, sharp, polished, but the sound that came out of her mouth was soft, warm, friendly, and it immediately put me at ease like it had every time I heard it.

What the fuck was that? I hadn’t experienced anything like it before, and I had no idea what to do about it. So instead, I answered. “Nope.”

She scowled, which only made me smile harder.

“I’m tired and want to get some sleep. What do you want?” she said.

That question took on an entirely different meaning when she stood barefoot in panties, but I didn’t think my very lovely bride would appreciate me pointing that out. Instead, I kept my eyes on her as I walked closer, impressed when she hadn’t moved an inch or changed her expression.

“If you’re tired, you should be at home,” I said, not telling her that sleep was the last thing on my mind, and given the way she stared at me, angry but also full of desire, it was the last thing on hers too.

“I thought I was,” she said.

I laughed. “I expected more, Daniela,” I said.

She frowned, the question clear in her face even before she spoke it. “What do you mean?”

“You lied to me just now. You know your home is with me,” I said.

She frowned slightly but didn’t deny it. “Sorry to disappoint you,” she said sarcastically.

“You didn’t. I know you’re still adjusting. I hadn’t expected you to hide though,” I said.

Those words got the anticipated reaction, and she stood up straighter, her movement drawing my eye to her bare thighs before I managed to again look at her face.

“I don’t hide,” she said, and then she pursed her lips into a thin line that practically screamed her offense. The desire to kiss that look away nearly stole my breath.

But I recovered and continued. “Don’t you? What do you call this?”

“So I’m a prisoner?” she said, even more haughty now, only solidifying my certainty that I was on the right track.

“Daniela, you can make this about me if you want, but I know the truth,” I said, stepping even closer to her.

“And what’s your truth?” she asked.

“You’re scared,” I said.

The frown on her face deepened, and then she looked up at me with fire in her eyes. “I’d be stupid if I wasn’t scared of you.”

I huffed, put my hand on her hip without breaking our gazes. “You’re not scared of me, Daniela,” I said.

She pursed her lips, again making me notice how plump, how delicious they looked.

“What do you think I’m scared of then?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.

“Yourself,” I said. Then I trailed my fingers down, settled them at the apex of her thighs, her sex scorching through her thin panties, the fabric drenched.

I stroked my fingers back and forth, watching her as her breath deepened, feeling the wetness as it gushed from her.

“And you’re scared of how much you want me,” I said.

I kept stroking between her thighs, kept watching her as she breathed even harder, saw the faint sheen of sweat break out on her skin, felt the faint shudder of her pussy clenching.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I said, latching my other hand against her hip to hold her in place. “Do that, and I leave you here. You’ll be mine in name only, but I won’t see you again. Just say the word, Daniela, and you’ll be rid of me.”

My cock was stone, and I would have traded anything to be inside her, but I didn’t press. When she looked up at me with hooded eyes, I froze, knowing that this moment would change everything.

“You’re not wrong,” she said.

D
aniela

A
fter I spoke
, I watched him, the part of me that could still reason afraid that he would follow through with what he’d said, leave me here alone, not ever having the chance to fulfill that desire that had thrown me off balance.

That was what I should have wanted, what I had told myself I did. He’d given me the opportunity to prove it, had given me the chance I had thought I so desperately wanted, that I had hoped for.

But I hadn’t been able to make my mouth form the lie. His fingers between my legs driving me to distraction were a part of it. But there was more. I acted on facts, tried to calculate the best move, but some part of myself that I couldn’t name told me that if I didn’t admit the truth, I would regret it for the rest of my life. And I couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk not ever having him.

He continued to stroke between my thighs, his fingers gliding along my slit, thumb putting just enough pressure on my clit to make me want more. I couldn’t say that out loud though, so I shifted, dropping my hips down to increase the pressure.

Sergei’s hand on my waist stopped me, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out in frustration. I lifted heavy-lidded eyes to his and saw the knowing smirk there.

“Bastard,” I muttered.

He laughed. “I’ve been called worse, but never by anyone more beautiful,” he said. “Now take your shirt off.”

He pulled his hand from between my thighs, forcing out yet another moan, this one of disappointment at the loss of his touch, and then stepped back, staring at me.

“I…”

I lifted my gaze to the door, the now absent door. Sergei followed it and then grabbed my arm and led me down the small hallway and to my bedroom. He closed the door and then stood in front of me, eyes dark with desire as he watched me.

“Take your shirt off,” he repeated, his voice huskier now, deep.

I started to burn with embarrassment, but I reached for the hem of the T-shirt, lifted it up and over my head, and then let it drop. Then, after a breath, I met Sergei’s eyes.

Desire, deep and dark, lit them, and I heaved out a deep breath, unable to do anything in the face of his reaction. I’d made love before, but I’d never had someone look at me so intently, caress me with their eyes. But Sergei was doing so now, letting his gaze trail against my collarbones, down my large breasts, lingering at my nipples, which I knew were pulled tight, hard little buds because of the cold air and Sergei’s heated gaze. Down further over my rounded stomach to rest between my thighs, the place I wanted him to be.

My sex clenched tight, fluttered around emptiness that I wanted him to fill.

“Panties,” he said, his voice even lower now, sounded almost as if he had to fight to push the word out.

I understood.

My entire body trembled with desire that was as shameful as it was strong, the want for this man making me incapable of thinking of him as an enemy or as the man I’d been forced to marry. Here, now, all I saw was the man I wanted inside me.

Fingers trembling with the force of my need, I hooked them in the waistband of my panties and pulled until they fell down to pool around my ankles. My sex was wet, getting wetter with every second, and I knew that Sergei could see the evidence of my desire because my thighs were coated with it.

He stepped closer, pushed a finger between my thighs. I moaned at the touch of his calloused fingertip against my most sensitive skin, moaned again when he began to stroke me, working that fingertip through the moisture that flowed from my pussy freely.

His huffed-out breath drew my attention and I looked up, saw the self-satisfied smile on his face. That gave me the urge to open my eyes, face him, not be so blatant with my need, but his rough finger against my clit took that ability away.

Where I had wanted to pretend he wasn’t affecting me so deeply, didn’t have me on the edge of desire, one push from completion, his touch took that ability away. Instead of standing stronger, I reached out for him, wrapped my hand around his strong biceps to hold myself up because with each rasp of his finger against my clit, my knees got a little weaker.

“Serg—”

I bit my lip, desperate not to say his name. He was touching me, could feel how tightly I held his arm, could see my nipples pebbled hard, feel the ever-growing rush of moisture that coated my sex. Could probably smell my arousal. There was no hiding how much I wanted him, but I wouldn’t beg.

Instead, I trailed my fingers across the hard ridge of his cock, proud when he flinched, again moaning when he flicked my clit. Touching his hardness was a reminder that I wasn’t in this alone. Driven by that awareness—and the desperate need to touch more of him—I loosened my hold on his arm and worked his shirt up and over his head.

His chest was as perfect as I remembered it, only made better by the fact that I could touch him, and touch him I did, letting my fingers curl in the light hair that covered his pecs, pressing my thumb against the flat nipple, letting my fingers move down over the peaks and valleys of his abdomen.

That touch had been almost playful, but when I reached his pants, the playfulness was gone. He seemed to agree for he dropped his hand from my pussy and watched as I fumbled with his belt, finally getting it open after long seconds that seemed to stretch an eternity. I was much quicker with his pants and soon opened them and pushed them down.

His cock thudded against my thigh when it was no longer trapped, and I sighed hard when I felt his hot, silky skin, the little drop of wetness left behind where his cock had touched me. I locked eyes with him, saw that his were low, heavy-lidded, and gave him a smile of my own.

He returned it, his eyes light with something like a dare. Feeling as turned on as I was, I took it, and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, squeezing his thick length. He moaned, and I squeezed again, then loosened my grip to stroke up and down his long length, gathering the precum that leaked from him to smooth my path.

With my free hand, I gripped his soft sac, and then, feeling more powerful than I ever had, more than I should, I stroked him, watching as his big body shivered with machinations, his expression growing tighter as his cock hardened even more in my hand.

“Enough,” he said a few minutes later, his eyes dreamy and a soft smile on his face. “When I come, I’ll be inside you.”

My pussy clenched at his words, the sound of his voice, and I moved back as he stepped forward, only stopping when I reached the edge of my bed.

I sat and then lay, and an instant later, Sergei was with me, his long, strong body trapping my softer one between him and the bed. I was surrounded by him, every part of my body touching some part of his. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever felt.

Or was until I met Sergei’s eye, saw the unfiltered desire in them. I arched involuntarily, the need that was driving me insane keeping me from holding still. We were so close that my lips brushed his chin, the rough stubble there sending yet another shiver through me.

I kissed his chin again, but soon he tilted his head and brought our lips together. At the first contact, I sighed out deep, a breath of relief I hadn’t known I had been holding coming out. But then relief was drowned out by passion as Sergei kissed me hard, his lips rough against mine, yet so tender, I thought my heart would burst.

As he kissed me, his fingers, which had somehow ended up entwined with mine, moved lower, raking over my skin and making me shiver. He brushed one finger along the crease of my thigh and then found my hot core, which was dripping for him.

He pushed his tongue into my mouth as he pushed a finger into my pussy, and I almost came. I was wet enough to take him but it had been a long time since I’d had anything but my own fingers inside me, so his thick digit stretched me, worked me open as he teased my mouth with his lips and tongue.

“Please,” I said on a harsh breath. I was close, so close, and the need to feel him had my heart pounding.

“Please what, Daniela?” he said, his warm breath against my ear.

His voice had deepened, changed with his own desire, but he seemed to have some control, something I didn’t. I’d said I wouldn’t beg, but now, the need was too great.

“Please fuck me, Sergei,” I moaned, uncaring of my dignity, uncaring of anything but having him.

He chuckled low, but the sound was cut short as he removed his fingers and nudged his cock against my opening.

“Please…” I said, no longer able to wait, not able to withstand teasing.

He thrust then, fed me his cock in a slow, strong push that stretched me to my limits. I didn’t care about the sting of pain, though. It was nothing in the face of having his hard cock inside me, pulsing in time with the thud of his heart.

“Oh God,” I cried when he moved, thrusting easily at first but then picking up speed.

Then I said nothing, could do nothing but hold him, rock against him as I chased the climax that was on the verge of exploding through me.

“Come for me, Daniela,” he whispered as he put his hands between our bodies and squeezed my clit.

His touch, his words, made it impossible for me to deny him, so I didn’t even try. I let go, let the climax take me, so intense that blood rushed through my head and thrummed in my ears and my vision blurred. I was faintly aware of him hardening even further inside me, his breath against my face as he moaned through his climax, the splash of his cum warming me from the inside out.

I let my body collapse against the bed, too worn out to do anything else, but Sergei stayed where he was, keeping us joined until his softening cock slipped out of me. He rolled me onto my side and then curled his body behind me, and before I could even think to stop myself, I melted against him, savoring the warmth of being in his arms.

As the minutes ticked by, the reality of what had happened came over me. Bad enough I had given myself to him, begged for him, I wouldn’t compound that error by staying here cuddled against him like we were real lovers, real husband and wife, despite how I may have wanted to.

I pulled away, and his arm tightened around me. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest.

“I…the door,” I finally said.

He shifted me in his arms and looked at me through dark eyes. Kissed me softly against the lips. “Trying to hide again, Daniela,” he said.

The words weren’t a question, but I heard one anyway. I kept my eyes on his and then, finally, shook my head. “No,” I said, relaxing again.

I lay back, he curled his body around mine, his strength, his warmth enveloping me, making me feel safe, satisfied, like I was home. “I’m not hiding.”

S
ergei

I
held
Daniela as she slept, unable to keep myself from staring at her, and even more unable to process what had happened. I curled my arms tighter, brought her soft body closer to mine.

That wasn’t true. I could definitely process what had happened, couldn’t wait for it to happen again, the passionate woman that Daniela was drawing me in.

But my response to being with her, that I had one at all, left me off balance. Yes, I’d known we’d end up in bed, would have bet good money the sex would be fantastic. But this…how even now as she slept I wanted to kiss her, how I wanted to hold her and never let her go… I didn’t know what to do with those feelings.

She stirred in my arms, and I saw the precise moment she came awake. The precise moment she realized it was me who held her. The smile that ghosted across her face when she did.

“We should go,” I said.

She nodded, and then got up, but not before I kissed her softly. I watched as she dressed, hardly able to take my eyes from her. But I did and dressed and then led her outside.

She frowned as we approached the SUV.

“What?” I asked after we got in.

“Where are your men?” she said.

I shrugged.

“You don’t travel with them?” she said.

“No,” I said. I’d never seen a need to. I could handle whatever trouble I might face. That might need to change, though. I had her to think about now.

“How many visitors did you have today?” I asked as we left her driveway.

I couldn’t see her because my eyes were on the road, but I heard her soft laugh. “Your…associates didn’t fill you in?”

They had, and she knew it, but I appreciated her subtlety, the way she asked the question without quite asking. “I’d like a firsthand account,” I said.

Again, she laughed softly. “Seven dropped by to personally offer congratulations,” she said.

“Condolences you mean?” I said, laughing myself at how everyone had likely fawned over poor Daniela who was now with the hated enemy.

She giggled this time, the sound light. “Pretty close. They were all shocked I wasn’t in a dungeon or something,” she said.

“Are you shocked?” I asked. I hadn’t really thought about how Daniela might have worried about her physical surroundings and my treatment of her. Senna’s words came back to me and I now saw the wisdom she’d been trying to impart. Because having Daniela afraid of me, having her believe I would mistreat her was something I didn’t like at all.

The slight frown on her face told me that my voice had given away more than I’d anticipated, but I was curious, hopeful that maybe now I’d shown that I never intended her any harm.

“May I be honest?” she asked.

“Always,” I said.

She exhaled, her knee brushing my leg as she shifted in her seat. “I am. I thought…I don’t know what I thought…” She shook her head. “That’s not true,” she said.

“So what’s true?” I asked, able to guess but wanting to hear the words in her own voice.

Though I kept my eyes on the road, I could feel hers searching my face, examining me. “I thought you’d be more like him.”

There was no doubt who the “him” was. I squeezed the wheel tighter, the thought of being compared to Santo requiring me to do something, to control the sudden anger.

“Did he hurt you?” I said, vowing that Santo wouldn’t see another day if he had.