Nikolai: Taking Back What’s Mine (Russian Mob Chronicles Book 2)

“It’s beautiful,” Justine murmurs under her breath as she drinks in the sunrise peeking over the buildings neighboring her apartment. “Florida is gorgeous, but I’ve never seen a sunrise like this.”

“It’s the wildfires in California giving it the smoky look,” I reply, pulling her back to rest against my chest.

I took her to the brink more times than I can count last night, but my need to have her skin touching mine hasn’t weakened. I crave her like a drug, one hit only making me craving another.

Just as I tried to do earlier this week, I’m showing Justine the ultimate light show in Vegas. I’ve never been a man who appreciates the beauty surrounding him, but the thirty minutes before sunrise has always held a special place in my heart. It is the only time I’ve had a moment of quiet my entire life. What I said to Justine yesterday morning is true. The devil has never seen a sunrise, so it’s the only time I’m guaranteed not to have Vladimir interfering in my life.

“I wish we could stay here forever, cocooned in our own little bubble,” Justine murmurs into my chest, her breath fanning my sweat-slicked torso.

My cock stiffens, relishing the neediness in her voice. I’d love nothing more than to lay her out and devour her sweet cunt for the rest of the day, but I’m already hours behind the tight schedule I have planned for today.

I had every intention of meeting Roman at 3 AM like arranged yesterday, but my plans altered when I was balls deep inside Justine in the wee hours of this morning. As she quivered through her third orgasm of the night, a brief snippet of my conversation with Asher played through my mind.

Asher and Dominique are practically strangers, but he was concerned enough about her being caught in the crossfires of my takeover, he put his business at risk to ensure her safety. It was in that instant I realized I should be doing the same for Justine.

I crave Justine like a drug, but shouldn’t my desire to keep her safe place my carnal needs on the backburner? I’m not talking weeks, months, or years—just long enough to get Vladimir off her scent. Then, once everything settles, and the throne is mine, she can return to Vegas—she can come back to me without her safety being compromised.

I want to pound my chest and act all macho, declaring no one will get close enough to Justine to harm a hair on her head, but I know how the men in my industry work. I’ve lived amongst them my entire life. When Vladimir discovers how effectively I’ve shut down his crew in a matter of days, he will be gunning for blood. Justine is my only weakness, one I’m not willing to put at risk for anything or anyone.

I pause for a moment, my mind spiraling. If only things were different. If I could dethrone Vladimir without fear of the repercussions many men during his reign have suffered, then I wouldn’t need to give Justine up, not even for a second. But nothing is fair in my lifestyle, so I have no choice. I must let her go.

When I look down at Justine, she glances up at me, her eyes bright and shimmering with lust. My anger frays to the point of snapping, hating that anyone has the power to rule my life. It’s my life for fuck’s sake—mine. And so is Justine.

I stand from the chair we’re sitting on, taking Justine with me. She moans softly, loving my half-masted cock grinding her ass as I move us inside. The Las Vegas heat becomes a distant memory as I stride through her living room, my focus on her outdated bathroom across from her bedroom. I don’t know why I chose the bathroom when her bed was right next to us, but it just feels like the right place to do this. Things changed for us in that bathroom in a way I never saw coming.

Placing Justine on the vanity sink, I peel away the sheet concealing her body from my view. Since this will be the last time I’m going to sample it for days, if not weeks, I don’t want a single inch hidden from my eager eyes.

Justine’s breathing quickens, her eyes flaring with excitement at my aggressiveness. I’m tugging at the sheet so hostilely, the sound of cotton ripping drowns out the mad beat of her heart.

Once I have her uncovered, I lift and lock my eyes with hers. “Stand for me, Ahren. Show me your beauty,” I demand, my voice so husky, my Russian heritage rings true.

Justine hesitates for the quickest second before she slips off the vanity to stand in front of me. Her tiny hands ball into fists at her side as the width of her pupils grows. I know she finds this hard—being exposed and vulnerable—but we need this more than she realizes. I need her to see what she does to me, to feel her quiver under my hand, but more than anything, she needs to know I’m not sending her away because she isn’t perfect. I’m doing it to keep her safe and to save us.

“Kneel, Ahren,” I command, noticing the direction of her gaze hasn’t veered far from my cock the last twenty seconds.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins hard and fast when she kneels in front of me without pause, bringing her mouth to within an inch of my cock. She licks her dry lips before raising her chin, her eyes locking with mine.

The throb in her throat increases when I gather her hair with my fist to pull it away from her face, exposing the bite marks she hides with her long, wavy locks. My cock thickens more, smug as fuck at the beautiful image of my woman kneeling before me with her eyes sparked with hunger.

“See what you do to me, Ahren? What your body does to me? You’re not even touching me, and I’m struggling not to cum.”

Justine groans as she licks her lips again, her desire to taste me evident on her face. I grip her hair tighter, fighting to express myself before my morals are led astray by my desires.

“You want this, Ahren.” I’m not asking a question; I’m stating a fact.

I swipe the crown of my cock across her plump lips, eliciting a husky moan from her throat. “You want to suck my cock as desperately as I want to keep you safe.” The lust in her eyes is exchanged for worry when I mutter, “But we can’t have both; it isn’t possible.”

My balls clench when my swollen crown dips between her parted lips. I know I shouldn’t use her attraction to me against her, but when I’m running on empty, I use what I can.

Eager to please, Justine opens her mouth for me, but she keeps her hands resting at her side. I told you she was smart. She knows this is more than just me wanting my dick sucked.

“I can’t keep you safe if you remain here, Ahren. I can’t keep my promise if you stay in Vegas.” Her eyes well with moisture, partly from my cock ramming into the back of her throat, but most of it from unshed tears. “I want to keep you safe, Ahren. I need to keep you safe.”

Justine attempts to talk, but I rock my hips forward, stuffing her words back into her mouth with my cock. Her husky moan vibrates against my knob as her tears moisten my shaft.

Thrusting more shallowly, I coerce the pain in her eyes to switch to lust. Call me conceited, but I know I can bend Justine’s seemingly impenetrable wall with nothing but my body. She is as defenseless to my touch as I am to hers.

Although the pain in her eyes remains, Justine works her lips up and down my shaft, sucking my cock like a woman born to bring me to heel. She swirls her tongue around my knob before trailing it down the vein feeding my cock.

My head falls back, and my eyes close when she increases the power of her sucks. I try to remember she’s not kneeling in this erotic-scented space to get my rocks off. I’m supposed to be using my body to lower her defenses before I inform her of my plans to ship her back to Florida today. I’m also hoping she will remember the energy bouncing between us when she discovers the secret I’ve been keeping from her.

The heat of her mouth and the firm grip of her hand has my climax building shockingly fast. I roll my hips faster, the need to cum so overwhelming, I make Justine gag. I shouldn’t love the sound of her choking on my cock, but I do.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, Justine takes me to the base of her throat. The rush of heat over my sensitive knob is too intense for me to ignore. I grip her hair with fury as cum rockets out of my cock, coating her mouth and throat. She moans unintelligibly before her throat works hard to swallow my spawn. She doesn’t miss a single drop with her greedy sucks.

I nearly cum for the second time when her tongue licks the underside of my knob, but I hold back the desire, suddenly recalling my objective.

A popping noise sounds from Justine’s mouth when my cock breaks free from her suctioning lips. She groans in disappointment, the glistening between her legs revealing how close to the brink she is.

Unable to deny the silent plea in her eyes, I lift her the vanity, then burrow my head between her legs. She calls out hoarsely, whispering my name between each pleasurable cry. I spear my tongue inside her insatiable cunt, not the least bit deterred by the fact my cum was inside her mere hours ago. I eat her like I’m starving, knowing this could be my last taste for weeks.

“Nikolai. . . oh. . . god,” Justine pants between moans, her thighs tightening around my ears as her screams grow louder.

I slide two fingers inside her before quickly switching it to three. Her screams turn ear-piercing, thickening my cock to a point it is almost painful.

While pumping in and out of her, my tongue flicks at the sensitive bud of her clit, arousing it more with every stroke I inflict. Within minutes, she is quivering through a frenetic orgasm, her grip on the vanity so tight, her knuckles go white.

I wait for every shudder in her body to be exhausted before I line my cock up to the entrance of her slicked canal. We groan in sync when I take her to the hilt, ramming every inch inside her. I still for a moment, drinking in how good she feels. There isn’t a drug in the world that could replicate the high I get when I’m balls deep inside her. She is the sweetest substance I’ve ever sampled.

When Justine clenches around my cock, begging to be consumed, I draw all the way out to the tip before ramming it back in. My thrusts are so furious, Justine’s head smacks into the mirror I forced her to stand in front of last week. I can’t believe that was only a week ago. It feels like a lifetime.

The urge to drive Justine to the brink engulfs me when I catch the quickest glimpse of my reflection in the mirror cupping her skull to protect her head. My eyes are wide and full of life; my lips are swollen and glistening with her arousal, and my skin is flushed. If I didn’t already sweep Justine’s apartment three times tonight, I would have believed an intruder has snuck into her bathroom, that is how different I look. I don’t recognize the man staring back at me. He is a stranger, one I never thought I’d see again—one I haven’t seen in over thirteen years.

The sound of skin slapping skin booms around the room as I fuck Justine without restraint. I drive her to the brink of ecstasy, unraveling her as forcefully as she does me. Just like it is every time I’m inside her, my mind is blank, clear of any negativity.

“Nikolai. . .oh. I’m going to come. . . again.”

I smile a smug grin at the shock of her last word. If you had told Justine last week she was only days away from a record-breaking number of orgasms, I’d doubt she would have believed you. I knew from the instant I laid my eyes on her that something intense was about to happen, but even I had no fucking clue how phenomenal it was going to be.

The chances of holding back my orgasm are lost when Justine’s pussy clamps around my cock. She sucks me into her deeper, begging for the heat of my spawn to add to the sensation rolling through her.

I pump into her another three times before the temptation becomes too great. “Fuck. . .” I roar, filling her to the brim. “Do you feel that, Ahren? My cum inside you? Filling you. Marking you. Claiming you.”

“Yes,” she answers, her one word quivering. “I feel you, Nikolai. In me. On me. Everywhere.” She locks her eyes with mine, the moisture in them doubling. “I feel you everywhere, even when you’re not with me.”

A tear glides down her flushed cheek as she stammers out, “But that doesn’t mean you can send me away. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here with you. Fighting at your side.”

I brush the tear off her cheek, hating that I’m causing her pain. I’ve made grown men cry like babies without feeling any remorse, but one tear out of Justine’s eyes feels like a knife stabbed into my chest.

I continue pumping into her, knowing she won’t give my suggestion an ounce of consideration unless I’m balls deep inside her. “You don’t have a choice, Ahren. My decision is not negotiable. You’re flying to Florida this afternoon. Roman has made all the arrangements.”

Justine’s anger rises from her gut to her face, replacing the lusty heat on her cheeks with fury. Flattening her palms on my chest, she pushes me away from her. She tries to shut it down, but I see the quickest flare of disappointment dart through her eyes when my cock slips out of her snug channel.

“Justine. . .” I growl in caution, warning her I’m not up for negotiation. My decision is final. Nothing she can say will change it. “It’s time for you to go home. With you quitting your job, you’ve got no reason to stay here anymore.”

On a wobbly pair of knees, Justine covers herself with the sheet, hiding her body from my view. “Don’t tell me what to do, Nikolai,” she sneers, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’m not a child, so stop treating me like one.”

“I spent all night proving you’re not a child, Ahren. That fact has already been established.”

She snarls, baring teeth, unappreciative of the way my eyes are slowly raking her body. “This isn’t the time for stupidity, Nikolai. You’re in for the fight of your life, and you are acting like it’s a game.”

“You don’t think I know what I’m up against, Ahren?! Why the fuck do you think I’m sending you away?”

‘Because you’re scared! Because you’re worried I’m getting too close,’ she shouts, her voice shrilling around her outdated bathroom.

“Nothing scares me, Ahren. . . except losing you,” I admit, hating the weakness of my words.

The anger on her face fades as more tears fill her eyes. “Then don’t send me away,” she begs, her plea low and tainted with sorrow.

I step closer to her, praying she won’t pull away from me. Although she watches me cautiously, her feet remain planted on the ground. “I’m not sending you away because I’m afraid of what you’re doing to me. I’m sending you away because it is the only way I can keep you safe. You’ve got me so unhinged, Ahren, I don’t recognize the man I’ve become. That’s dangerous. It could get me killed. It could get you killed.”

Justine startles from my confession, but her determination remains strong. “A fight shared is a fight halved.”

“It’s. Not. Your. Fight,” I grind out, pausing dramatically between each word, the tiresome week causing my fuse to grow ever shorter. “It is my fight; one I intend to win without a woman standing at my side.”

Justine shakes her head as her face lines with disgust. “So that’s what this is all about? I’m just a woman.” She spits out her last word like it scorched her tongue. “A poor defenseless woman who needs a man to rush in and save her?”

Not thinking, I nod, my protectiveness of her too strong to hear the underlying message in her question.

My back molars slam together when Justine’s open palm connects with my left cheek. Her slap is so weak, I barely register receiving it, but it’s strong enough for me to react.

I clamp my hands around her wrists, my anger reaching its boiling point. “Don’t fucking hit me. I told you not to hit me.”

I had unimaginable things done to me my entire childhood, but none stung as badly as my mother slapping me when she recalled my true birthright. She hated me because I wasn’t Vladimir’s son, yet she was the one who laid with his enemy and birthed him a child. I didn’t choose to be born. I didn’t choose this fucking life. Just like I wouldn’t choose to have Justine away from me unless it was completely necessary.

I grew up despising my mother nearly as much as I hate my father. That is why I walked out of the restaurant the night she killed herself. I knew what she was going to do, but I didn’t stop her. If that makes me a monster, so be it. She deserved to die. Justine doesn’t.

New tears spring down Justine’s cheeks as she mumbles a string of unintelligible words. Although I can’t understand a thing she is saying, I know she is apologizing, as her eyes are full of sorrow.

I want to draw her into my chest and promise everything will be okay. I want to wipe away the tears streaming down her face, but more than anything, I want to keep her safe. So instead of crossing off the first two items on my wish list, I lock my eyes with hers and say, ‘Pack your bags. Roman will be here in an hour.’

She won’t look at me. She hasn’t made eye contact with me in over two hours. I fucking hate it. I feed off the sneaky glances she gives me; they stroke my ego and boost my attitude, but she won’t look at me, not even for a second.

“Don’t block me out, Ahren. I’m trying to keep you safe,” I say in Russian, knowing Roman isn’t bilingual like Justine and me. “You can be angry at my decision, but also accepting of it.”

Justine’s thigh quivers, revealing she heard my mumbled comment, but her eyes remain on the scenery flying past her window.

“Justine,” I try again, knowing she always reacts to me calling her by her real name. “Look at me.”

She doesn’t. She ignores me with the stubborn determination I’ve been fighting to unleash in her since the day we met. This is the grit she should have showed Col when he sentenced her to death; this is the woman I saw behind the shield. I crave the persistent, beautiful woman who could bring any man to heel with nothing but a sideways glance, but right now, I need her to be a woman with understanding. I’m not doing this to hurt her. I’m doing this to save her.

Pretending I can’t feel Roman’s watchful eye glancing at me over the newspaper he is reading, I unlatch Justine’s seatbelt and pull her into my lap. She kicks and thrashes against me, but I remain holding her tightly, my determination spurred on by the driver taking the exit for McCarran Airport.

“Fight me, Ahren,” I growl into her ear, hating that her last thought of me will be me yelling at her. “Scratch me, hit me, slap me, but know when clarity forms, you’ll regret this exchange as much as I will. I’m not the enemy, Justine. I’m the man keeping you away from him.”

“By sending me back to the place that stole my freedom to begin with,” she retaliates, her voice as hot-tempered as her face. “How chivalrous of you.”

Her reply shocks me, maiming me more than her silence the past two hours. “Your family lives in Hopeton—”

“But my heart doesn’t,” Justine interrupts, her reply loud enough to gain the attention of both Roman and the driver. She locks her eyes with mine, the moisture in them killing me. “God—Nikolai. Can’t you feel it? Don’t you see it? I can’t be the only one feeling the crazy connection we have.”

She stares into my eyes, begging for me to concur with her admission, to acknowledge how fucking crazy she makes me, but I can’t, because if I give in to one plea in her eyes, I won’t stop. I’ll keep granting wish after wish until every foundation I laid the past six hours is undone. Furthermore, I promised to keep her safe. For the first time in my life, I’m going to keep my promise.

“Your flight leaves from gate fourteen; Roman will ensure you return home safely.”

Justine stills as her eyes lock with mine. She doesn’t breathe, move or speak. She just stares at me like she can’t believe the words that just left my mouth.

“When things settle down, then you can come back.”

“Come back?” she struggles out, her two words expressing way more than any sentence ever could. “Why would I come back, Nikolai? You said it yourself, I have nothing keeping me here, so why would I come back?”

With the mask she was wearing the first day we met firmly slipped into place, concealing her beauty from a man she no longer deems worthy of seeing it, she shimmies off my lap. When she throws open the door with force, it is the fight of my life to keep my ass in my seat. The only reason I do is because I know this industry better than anyone. My chances of dethroning Vladimir are already slim to none, but if he discovers I have a weakness, it will be non-existent, not only putting my life at risk but also Justine’s. That is not something I will settle for. I’ll kill any man who stands in my way of protecting her—even myself.

When Roman clambers onto the sidewalk on Justine’s heels, I hear her mumble to him, “I thought Dimitri was a coward, but Nikolai just stole his title.”

Glancing down at my feet, I fight to keep my anger at bay, my fists clenching the only indication I heard her grumbled comment. Acting ignorant is pointless; I slide across the seat in under a second, my focus on one thing and one thing only—proving to Justine I am more a man than Dimitri will ever be.

“No,” Roman commands, pointing his index finger at me while blocking my exit with his body. “Finish one battle before you start another.”

“I won’t have anything to fight for if I lose her,” I reply, shoving him out of my way.

He fists my shirt, stepping over a line I deem acceptable. If he were any other man, my knife would already be pressed against his jugular, but since he is like a father to me, I keep my knife in my back pocket.

“She’s not going anywhere, Nikolai. She’s angry, so she’s lashing out. Give her some time, and she’ll realize you made the best decision you could for the shitty situation you’re in.”

Noticing my anger is simmering, Roman lets go of my shirt. “We discussed every possibility this morning; this is your only option. She’ll understand, Nikolai.”

“She said she has no reason to come back.” My teeth grit, hating the panic in my voice.

Roman’s brow quirks. “She wouldn’t have fought you like she did if you aren’t who she wants. She’ll come back. I’m so confident, I’ll put money on it.”

I take a moment to consider what Roman is saying. He’s been married for thirty years, so he should have some idea of how this shit works, but it doesn’t make his knowledge any easier to absorb.

Scrubbing my hand across my unshaven jaw, I slump into my chair. “Look after her, Roman. Treat her like your own daughter.”

My eyes lift from my knuckles when the scent of heated skin streams through my nose. “If I did that, I’d have to kill you. No one touches my girls—not even you,” Roman mutters, glaring at me.

My lips tug at his reply. I should be annoyed, but all I’m feeling is gratitude. If Roman protects Justine as if she is family, nothing will happen to her. Roman isn’t as highly ranked as I am in our industry, but his kill count is just as high.

“Give her this once you’re thirty thousand feet in the air,” I request, handing him an envelope from my back pocket.

Nodding, Roman places the envelope in the breast pocket of his jacket before shutting the door. I wait for Roman to guide Justine into the terminal before racking my knuckles on the privacy partition separating the main cabin of my car from the driver, requesting for him to go.

As my SUV chugs into action, I scan the heavy foot traffic, hoping to distract my thoughts long enough I don’t demand that the driver stop. As much as it kills me to admit, Justine will be safer in Hopeton. By shipping her home, Vladimir will think I’ve grown bored of her just like I did Malvina.

The soothing effect I was hoping to achieve from people watching is undone when my eyes lock in on a dark-haired man exiting the arrival terminal. My temples pound against my skull when I shake my head to clear my vision, certain I’m not seeing who I think I’m seeing.

It can’t be him.

He’s dead.

My brother Rico is dead.