Nikolai: Mine to Protect (Russian Mob Chronicles #4)

Two SUVs lead a fleet of five through the streets of Las Vegas as we make our way to a private airstrip on the outskirts of the city. The number of armed men surrounding us is nothing out of the ordinary—Nikolai is as pedantic about security as he is about fucking me to the brink of insanity—but his silence isn’t a regular occurrence.

He hasn’t spoken a word in over forty minutes. At first I thought his silence centered around my anger over one of his goons rough-handling my brother, but as the minutes ticked by, I realized I had it all wrong. He’s not angry. He’s panicked.

That’s as foreign for him as the pleasure I got from anal penetration.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I have a heap of unknown hormones running rampant through my veins, so additional nerves are bound to be present.

Realizing now is as good a time as any to share the secret I’ve been keeping the past twenty-four hours, I hand Nikolai the box I slipped into my purse upon exiting the courthouse late yesterday afternoon.

He stares at it for several moments, unsure of what it is.

“It’s your birthday present. I meant to give it to you last night, but with everything going on, a suitable time never presented.”

When he gives me a look, attempting to tell me for the tenth time the past twenty-four hours that his birthday isn’t for another two weeks, I cut him off with a glare.

“I can’t hold this secret for another two weeks, Nikolai. I’m shocked I’ve kept quiet this long.”

With his curiosity as piqued as his brow, he pulls off the scraggly piece of string curled around the box before prying off the lid. Time comes to a standstill when he glances down at the white stick with two blue lines glowing in the middle.

“It’s a pregnancy test,” I advise him, unsure if he’s seen one before.

He probably has, but I prefer keeping my head stuck in the sand when it comes to him and any woman he associated with before me. I don’t handle jealousy well.

The longer Nikolai stares at the pregnancy test, the redder his cheeks glow. They match the color Roman’s held when I asked him to purchase me a test while Frederick’s trial was in recess. He wasn’t happy with my request, but when I said he could either purchase the test for me, or I would sneak away from his watch to buy one for myself, he chose the option less likely to have him slayed by Nikolai.

Away from Nikolai and Roman, I am inconspicuous to the media, but when I’m in their realm, I am hounded as viciously as the paparazzi forever tailing Nikolai.

In the beginning, it was great for business. Wrongly believing I had Nikolai’s conviction quashed, clients came out of the woodwork to secure my representation, hoping I’d achieve the same outcome for them. It’s a pity for all involved they didn’t have access to the extremely large lump sum payment Nikolai required to walk free from conviction.

Although I could have accepted the numerous offers handed to me, there is only one set of clients I’ve stepped outside of the Popov entity to help. They are the ones who can’t afford the representation they deserve, boys like Frederick whose hearts were in the right place, but they couldn’t find a legal way out of their situation.

My work is pro bono but the satisfaction I get standing at their side, supporting them, far exceeds any monetary value. Who knows how different Nikolai’s life could have been if Carmichael had helped him instead of going against him when he was Frederick’s age? I understand why Carmichael did what he did—I’d go to any length to save my brothers as well—it’s just unfortunate Nikolai was caught in the crossfire—again.

Nothing will fix the injustices Nikolai suffered during his childhood, but for every second of every day I stand by his side, propping him up, the pain in his eyes dampens as the confidence in mine flourishes.

A king needs a queen at his side, someone strong enough to show him there’s a light at the end of every tunnel. I am that woman for Nikolai. He’s often said once I took my throne, I’d want for nothing. The same can be said for him. I’ll never stop fighting to show him he is worthy of the greatest treasures, that he deserves the gifted life his heir will live. The Bratva made Nikolai a man, but only I will make him a father.

I lick my dry lips before saying something I never in my life anticipated: “It’s a positive pregnancy test. Our positive pregnancy test. We’re having a baby.”

Nikolai’s wintry blue eyes lock with mine, but not a word spills from his lips. Worry stirs in my gut that I jumped the gun too early in our relationship. Nikolai dropped hints numerous times the past few months about his wish to have an heir before he straight up asked me to stop using contraception, so I seized control of our destiny by skipping my pill a good six to eight weeks ago. Now I’m panicked out of my mind. What if I don’t know him as well as I think I do, and his hope to become a father wasn’t an immediate wish?

“Nikolai. . .”

My words fall short when our SUV arrives at the side of a private jet. It is probably for the best as I’m honestly lost on what to say. I thought he wanted this. If I knew this was going to be his reaction, I wouldn’t have been so gung-ho to fulfill his every desire.

While a group of heavily armed men create a walkway from our SUV to the lowered stairs of the jet, Nikolai places the lid back on the box then slides it into the pocket of his jacket. Roman gives us the nod of approval to leave the safety of our car not even two seconds later.

Remaining quiet, Nikolai swings open the back driver’s side door, clasps my hand in his, then slips out. I’m not being cunning when I say it would take a missile to get through the guard of honor flanking us. The men who work alongside Nikolai are the highest-ranked in their industry, but their integrity is even more impressive than that. Since they were acquired with honor instead of the fear Vladimir worked with, they’d never let anything happen to Nikolai. They don’t just respect him, they care for him as well.

The heavy stomp of a dozen men follows us up the stairs of the jet, but Nikolai doesn’t pay them any attention. He even waves off the stewardess clamoring for the chance to answer his every whim. She flutters her eyelids at him excessively as the heat raring through her body overrules the blush on her cheeks.

Usually, my hackles would bristle from Nikolai being ogled so intently, but with my mind shut down with worry, I let her pathetic attempts to seduce a taken man roll off my shoulders like water off a duck’s back.

Just like Nikolai, my focus is on one thing and one thing only: the bedroom at the back of the jet. This is not a conversation I want to have in front of his crew. I don’t want to have it at all, let alone while surrounded by men who both love and detest me.

Don’t misconstrue; for the most part, Nikolai’s crew has welcomed me with open arms, but Rory’s punishment last year displayed a side of Nikolai his men have never seen. Half were confused by his protectiveness of me, unsure what it meant for their positions, whereas the other half saw my inclusion in his life as a positive.

The latter now form Nikolai’s innermost circle, their trust rewarded in the greatest way. By revealing his true self to the men who trust him with their lives, Nikolai’s group has grown tenfold the past twelve months. It’s funny how life can change in an instant. Whether a niggle in the gut warning you to end a date earlier than your acquaintance is hoping, or falling in love with a mafia prince, you’ll never fathom the outcome of your decision until it is too late.

One decision a man made five years ago altered my life in a way I never saw coming. It tore my family apart, and it shredded my heart into a thousand pieces, but it also brought me Nikolai. His life is as dark and corrupt as the man who tried to destroy mine, but by accepting him and loving him as he is, I not only had the oxygen in my veins revived, I’m discovering not all men in his industry are like Col Petretti and Vladimir. Whether good or bad, everyone has a place.

Mine is beside Nikolai, and I won’t give up my spot for anyone.

“I know this is daunting, Nikolai. I nearly puked when I saw the results. Not in a bad way. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.”

I stop blubbering, realizing I’m doing a terrible job of explaining myself.

After a big breath, I try again. My second attempt isn’t any better than my first. “It’s kind of scary realizing how quickly life can change. For years, my focus centered on one thing, then you came into the picture and flipped everything on its head. Somedays I don’t even know who the hell I am, so it’s okay if you’re having a hard time registering this. I won’t hold it against you. Just don’t block me out—please. I’m scared, but I know we’ll be okay. We can get through anything if we do it together.”

I stop droning on when a lock sliding into place booms into my ears. I was so fixated on lessening the tension between us, I failed to notice we’ve entered the private sleeping quarters at the back of the jet.

When I attempt to continue my plea for understanding, Nikolai presses his finger to my lips. “Enough talking, Ahren.”

The pulse in my neck twangs when he guides me into the middle of the room. His natural arrogance is at an all-time high, leaving no doubt who is standing beside me. The king is walking the halls, his head not weighed down by the hefty weight his crown carries. His pigheadedness shouldn’t appeal to me; it shouldn’t sing a sweet serenade of love and devotion that has my heart taking notice even more than my pussy, but it does.

The fire in Nikolai’s eyes, the sneer on his face, even the slight flex of his fists as his eyes rake my body reveal truths I’ve heard many times the past twelve months. Men want to be him; women want to bed him, but there is only one person worthy of the king’s time. The woman who spoke to the king inside of him long before he took his reign: his queen.

Goosebumps prickle my skin when Nikolai slides the straps of my free-flowing shirt off my shoulders. The lightweight material rolls down my quivering stomach until it comes to a stop at the frilly skirt I’m wearing. With summer in full swing, I chose a light, breezy outfit to go from a dry Vegas night to a humid Florida morning with ease.

Air hisses between Nikolai’s teeth when his eyes take in my scarcely covered breasts, but it’s barely a blip on the radar compared to the heavy incline of his chest when his eyes lower to my stomach. I’m only a few weeks along, but I have no doubt he has spotted the slight curve in my stomach I noticed while dressing this morning.

I never believed in instant love, but Nikolai and our baby have made a fool out of me twice in under a year.

Wanting Nikolai to see the entire picture, I tug on the waistband in my skirt. I’ve barely yanked it past my panties when Nikolai’s impatience gets the better of him. With barely a grunt, he shreds my clothes off my body, their sturdy material no match for his strength.

Even though I heard a lock click, my eyes rocket to the door to ensure it is closed. My confidence has grown to a point I never thought achievable, but there are a handful of neuroses I’m still working through. My most driven is subjecting Nikolai’s crew to the ugliness of my scars. The last thing I want is for them to think Nikolai sacrificed everything for a marked-up mangy mutt.

All the stupid thoughts clouding my mind leave in an instant when Nikolai falls to his knees. He stares at my stomach for several long seconds before lifting his strong, firm hands to cup my barely existent baby bump. “Привет мой малыш.” Tears burn my eyes from him greeting our baby as his. “Твоя мать спасла меня от адских глубин. Теперь ты воскресишь мои вены кислородом.”

I attempt to correct him, to tell him the oxygen in his veins will be revived long before our little bundle joins our duo, but the quickest flash of his eyes steals my words. He truly thinks I saved him from the hell he was living in, and that our baby will be his final reward for the years of turmoil he suffered during his childhood.

His eyes also reveal the reason for his earlier silence. Although his crew has seen a different side of him the prior twelve months, they’ve never seen him like this. His heart is open and exposed for the world to see. He’s the most vulnerable he’s ever been.

“благодарю вас.”

I dip my chin, wordlessly advising him his thanks is not required. I’m the one truly blessed here.

Before I can assure Nikolai of that, he cups my cheeks as tenderly as he did my stomach then presses his lips to mine. I want to say the warm and fuzzy sensation fueling our exchange keeps our kiss at a PG rating, but there isn’t a single thing about Nikolai that could be called innocent. His kisses are like a thunderous summer storm—deadly and awe-inspiring. He doesn’t kiss gently or tease me to highlight what I’m missing out on; he just takes as much as I’m willing to give, then gives back even more.

His kiss steals the air from my lungs as quickly as his attention rebuilds my confidence. By the time he pulls back, I’m utterly breathless, and my panties don’t have a chance in hell of hiding how aroused he makes me.

I’d never hide, though.

Not from him.

Not even when I should.

He saw the butterfly too scared to escape the cocoon she sheltered herself in long before anyone else, so shouldn’t he reap the benefits of her metamorphosis?

My lips arch high when Nikolai roughly yanks my lower lip with his teeth before growling, “Now I wish I had sent thirty men instead of ten.” His warm breaths flutter my kiss-swollen mouth. “Your news also explains your insatiable appetite of late.”

He’s not referring to food. There is only one thing I’ve craved the past week. It’s the same thing I’ve desired relentlessly the prior twelve months: him—my prince of darkness.

When I tell him my greedy urges have nothing to do with my pregnancy and everything to do with him, some of the pride in his eyes shifts for lust.

“How far along are you?” he asks while guiding me to the bed squashed against the side wall.

I shouldn’t really say “squashed,” but compared to the monstrous four-poster bed that sits in the middle of our chamber-like bedroom, it’s a little underwhelming.

The rest of the features though. . . I only have one word: wow.

My jaw falls open as my eyes absorb the luxurious fittings I was too twisted up in knots to appreciate earlier. If money talks, the Popovs won’t be silenced for centuries to come. White and gold-print bedding contrasts against the dark wood lining the walls. A partially cracked-open door on our right displays a bathroom fitted with the same pricy features, but the stark white towels are missing the gold emblem the bedding has. Although, I don’t see that being an issue. I can forgive plain towels when I have access to a walk-in shower.

The opulence of the jets leaves no doubt of Nikolai’s wealth. This ride is truly worthy of a king.

When Nikolai growls my name, reminding me I failed to answer his question, I shrug. “I have no clue. I had an inkling yesterday morning, so I took a test just before we left for the restaurant. . .”

I stop talking when Nikolai’s shocked gaze collides with mine. His Adam’s apple bobs as he struggles to maintain his composure. I stare at him in silence, utterly lost on what has caused the quick shift in his composure. Five seconds ago, he appeared as if he had the world at his feet. Now. . . now he has the same expression his face held when he discovered me with a noose wrapped around my neck. He’s genuinely mortified.

He works his jaw side to side before easing out his next words, “You mean you knew when I. . . when we. . .”

“Fucked?” I fill in.

I try to hide my smile at his uncomfortable swallow; my efforts are less than stellar. I’m not a goodie two shoes who despises swear words. I just never get a chance to use them. Between Nikolai and his crew, a lifetime of profanities are depleted in a week.

Nikolai tries to act annoyed at my rare use of a curse word. His acting skills are as poor as mine. He can’t help but smirk while warning, “Watch your tongue, Ahren. Now that my cock has achieved its goal, I won’t hesitate using it to wash out your filthy mouth.”

“Please,” I murmur before I can stop myself, more turned on by his threat than concerned about it. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

His groan is the equivalent of foreplay to my body. We’ve been sexually active four times in under twenty-four hours, but my hunger for him is still rampant. If I wanted to excuse my nympho tendencies, I could blame new hormones for my syrupy veins, but anyone who knows me knows that is a lie. Nothing we’ve done the past year has been against my will. Not even the wickedly naughty events of last night.

Although painful, last night was beyond enjoyable. Not only did I see a new side of Nikolai, I fell in love with him even more deeply than I thought possible. He was tender and loving while rocking my world as he always does. If last night was a true indication of what anal sex will be like with him, I have no doubt his cocky remark about me begging him to take me that way more regularly will occur. I should have trusted him sooner. Done right, everything with Nikolai is pleasurable.

I’m pulled from my wicked thoughts when an even more desirable view enters my peripheral vision. Nikolai is undressing. His pace is as reckless as it was when he shredded my clothing as if it was tissue paper. He throws his shirt over his head, exposing his rippling abs and tattooed torso to my view. His jeans are next to go, their swift removal unearthing the dragon tattoo that began my downfall a little over a year ago.

I can’t believe I stupidly fought my feelings for him. It was a battle I was never going to win, so I don’t know why I bothered. Some would say I never truly tried, but they couldn’t feel the confliction that stirred in my gut every time I thought about him. I was genuinely torn between what I thought I knew and what was right.

Nikolai soon showed me the way.

The speed at which our relationship progressed is unnatural, but it is the most worthwhile thing I’ve ever done. Without sacrifice, we’ll never have anything, and with Nikolai having more than his share of unfairness, it’s only fair that he discovers what it feels like to be the center of someone’s world. I’ll give him that—our baby and I will give him the world.

Within seconds, Nikolai’s clothes sit on the floor with mine, as tangled and messy as he forever makes my heart. As his cock reacts to the undeniable heat teeming between us, he removes my bra and panties before guiding me onto the bed.

Panic floods me when he handles me as if I’m a fragile piece of glass who could shatter at any moment. Although my first thought is my scars, not once in the past twelve months has he treated me delicately, so it can’t be that.

My spine straightens as reality zaps down it. There is only one thing that has changed between this morning and now: he discovered we’re having a baby.

Before I can assure him nothing we did the past twenty-four hours could have harmed our little cherub, Nikolai places a peppering of kisses down my neck, across my torso, and over my rapidly swelling chest. His pace is slower than we’ve gone before, but it is out-of-this-world perfect. His nibs and licks remain the same; his steady pace just awards me more time to appreciate every seamless bite, lick, and suck.

My chest inflates to accommodate my swelling heart when Nikolai places a succession of kisses on the basically non-existent bump in my stomach. He refers to our baby as “his greatest gift” before his attention drops a few inches lower.

I can barely contain my excitement when his heavy-hooded gaze makes the wetness between my legs sizzle. I am bare and exposed, yet I feel more beautiful than I’ve ever felt. The precum pooling at the crest of his cock advises he likes what he sees, much less than admiration in his lowered-with-need gaze.

Scissoring my legs together, I ease the tingling sensation stimulating my pussy. My clit is throbbing so fiercely, I’m confident it won’t take much for me to come. One touch and I’ll be freefalling into pure bliss.

When Nikolai’s eyes rise to mine, the beautiful ruckus sitting low in my gut stirs. His eyes speak words his mouth doesn’t need to verbalize for me to hear. “Now watch me eat the tastiest cunt I’ve ever eaten.”

My back arches off the bed when his tongue spears the folds of my pussy not even two seconds later. He consumes me with the same dedicated sweeps of his tongue, grazes of his teeth, and sweet movements of his lips he used on my chest and stomach, but his pace is slower, less aggressive.

His self-control doesn’t dampen my excitement in the slightest. If anything, it makes me more unhinged. I’m quivering in orgasm only minutes later, its strength stealing the last of the air from my lungs.

The weightlessness of our bodies from the jet taking off adds an excited thrill to my climax, extending it from a mind-hazing orgasm to a body-paralyzing one. I still as excitement rips through my body, equally devastating and exhilarating me.

It is too good, almost too perfect.

The thrill of knowing this is the only time Nikolai will ever let me fall is unconceivably liberating. I broke five years ago, but I’m confident the only time I will shatter from here on out will be when I’m trembling beneath my king.

Nikolai maintains his slow, dedicated pace. His lazy licks and gentle sucks bring me back from hysteria with the same controlled tempo he used to instigate it. He eats me as if I’m a meal fit for a king, like he’ll never crave any woman but me. Only once every muscle-exhausting shudder has been extinguished does he rise to his knees.

“Nikolai,” I murmur half-breathless, half-laughing.

Confirmation of my earlier assumption rings true when he uses his cock as a measuring stick to gauge the distance between my pussy and belly button. He’s panicked out of his mind that sex will harm our baby.

An adorable crinkle pops between his dark brows when his cock extends well past my tiny bump low in my stomach. “Where does the baby sit?” His tone is deadly serious since it’s infested with confusion.

I’m as lost as him, but it doesn’t stop me from saying, “On the right. Somewhere around here.” I point to the very far right of my stomach.

Nikolai’s lips curl into a lusty grin. He knows I’m lying, but he’s pleased I’ll say anything if it guarantees him being inside of me—again.

When my lie fails to immediately grant me my wish, I try another tactic. “Nine months.” Nikolai’s confused eyes drop to mine. “That’s how long pregnancies last. Are you willing to wait nine months before coming again?”

He cocks a brow as his grin picks up. “Why can’t I come? Your hand, mouth, and tight little ass aren’t out of commission until our baby is born. Just your pretty pink cunt.”

His filthy words make my clit throb, but I keep my focus on the task at hand. “If I’m being denied my every desire while pregnant, so the hell are you. This is our baby, Nikolai, which means we both suffer any consequences associated with him or her.”

“Ahren. . .” His growl is more in warning than lust. “Nothing about our baby will be done in suffering. Just like his mother, he’s a gift. He’ll never be a burden.”

Ignoring his assurance our peanut is a boy, I reply, “A gift who’ll make me miserably depressed if I’m denied having you. We’ve fooled around more the past twelve months than I thought I’d achieve in my lifetime, but I still need more, Nikolai. I need you.”

When he remains quiet, I realize I’m getting through to him. Nikolai is only ever silent when he’s contemplating.

“Please. I assure you it is safe. He’s well protected in there.” I purposely say “he,” hoping his belief our child is a boy will assure him he’ll never come to any harm. “He has his daddy’s blood, meaning he’s already as strong as an ox.”

My lower lip drops to a pout when Nikolai scoots off the bed. With his hooded gaze locked on me, he shoves his feet into the opening of his jeans before yanking them up his thighs. Once he has the zipper pulled up to cover his cropped pubic hairs, he scans the bedding puddled around my feet.

The low hang of his brows doesn’t budge an inch until the dark bed sheet covers my naked frame. Happy all my naughty bits are covered, he throws open the highly varnished door separating the main cabin of the jet and our room. He speaks to his crew in Russian. Although I’m bilingual, I don’t hear a word he is saying. Lust is raging through my body too hard and fast to hear anything except my pulse shrilling in my ears.

I get the gist of his conversation when Dok enters the room a few seconds later. He startles when he notices me splayed on the bed, my post-orgasmic face incapable of hiding my flaming cheeks.

Dok stops glancing at an imaginary dot on the wall when Nikolai asks for the statistics of babies being injured in the womb from “vigorous physical activities.”

Yes, that’s precisely how he said it.

“You’re pregnant?” Dok’s face holds the same shocked surprise Nikolai’s held when he peered down at my positive pregnancy test

Smiling, I nod. I’m still in shock, but for once it’s a positive surprise.

“How far?”

“We don’t know,” I answer, bringing Nikolai into our conversation.

What I said earlier was true. This is our baby—not mine.

“Is there a way we can find out?”

Dok’s brisk nod makes me dizzy. “There are a few ways. Do you know when your last period was?”

I grimace. I stopped paying attention to my cycle months before Nikolai suggested I quit taking birth control pills. My monthly bleed didn’t interfere with our relationship. It just meant we had to be more inventive for a few days each month, so it never held much importance.

“Around twelve weeks ago,” Nikolai answers on my behalf.

He gifts me a wink, revealing he appreciates my bugged eyes. I don’t know why I’m surprised. He knows all aspects of my life, so I shouldn’t be stunned he keeps up to date on my period.

Dok pulls a phone out of his pocket. After a few taps of the screen, he lifts his eyes to me. “Okay, that will make you due around the seventeenth of January, but we’ll schedule an ultrasound when we return to Vegas. It will give us an exact date to work with.” He exchanges his phone for a notepad he stores in the breast pocket of his suit. “You should start prenatal vitamins and iron tablets as soon as possible. We’ll do a blood work up when we land to see if there’s anything else you’re lacking.”

My wide eyes bounce between Dok’s when he hands me a prescription for the vitamins he recommends. “Okay.” I’m equally stunned and surprised. I thought Dok was a nickname Nikolai’s crew called him because he stitches up their wounds. I had no clue he’s an actual doctor.

Suddenly worried he’s overstepped his mark, Dok returns to his post at the door before locking his eyes with Nikolai. “Was there anything else you needed?”

He shouldn’t be panicked. Nikolai is as thankful for his diligence as I am. It’s nice knowing we’re not the only ones on our baby’s side.

“Only for you to answer my original question.”

The need in Nikolai’s reply reddens my cheeks with heat. I’m not embarrassed. I love that his sexual appetite is as intense as mine.

Dok’s face turns the color of a beetroot, matching mine to a T. “No harm can be done to a fetus during. . . sexual activities.”

My lips tug high from the uncomfortable delivery of his last two words. Dok is a handsome man. Blond surfer boy locks float around his ears; his face is both handsome and well-carved, and his body could rival Nikolai’s if I could ever demand my eyes drink him in. Although he doesn’t have a dangerous aura like Nikolai, he handles himself well around members of his crew who are more built than him, so to say I’m shocked about his shyness would be an understatement—a major one.

My smile enlarges when Dok’s answer coincides with Nikolai pushing him out the door. He slides the lock back into place before spinning around to face me. If the gleam in his heavy-hooded gaze is anything to go by, he doesn’t just trust Dok with his life, he’ll also place our unborn baby’s life in his hands as well.

He slowly bridges the gap between us, his walk as arrogant as ever. It is a cocky swagger that reveals my every desire is about to be answered.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tickled pink by the idea.