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34
MILA
THE HOME SAT AS STILL as a grave while I stood beneath the staircase and stared at the elaborate woodwork that hid a door from sight—the one Albert and Viktor just vacated before leaving the house. I expected the entrance to be locked or require a special passcode like it would in any decent spy movie, but it opened right up to reveal cement stairs leading down to hell.Nerves shook in my hands as I hesitated at the threshold and listened for the tortured screams of damned souls, only to be welcomed by silence and a cold draft. A sane person wouldn’t go down there, but it seemed I was losing my grasp on rationality with the rest of the house.Closing the door behind me, I rubbed a hand over the goose bumps on my arm and headed down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, I pretended the room was any other unfinished basement with mortared stone walls and a dampness thickening the air, but the fallacy grew harder to accept each time I viewed a blooRelated chapters
Lost in Moscow's Secret 35
MILAI SHOULD BE QUESTIONING MY life choices, searching for a key to Ivan’s cell, or doing anything remotely constructive. Instead, I sat in the drawing room and watched the sun sink below the horizon with the Bible on my lap. The book was in Russian and was therefore incomprehensible, but the words didn’t matter. It was the divine support I needed—similar to a crucifix or a garlic necklace.Je hais Madame Richie. Tu hais Madame Richie. Nous haïssons Madame Richie. I was beginning to hate the fortune-teller more each day. I put all the blame on her for setting something in motion I couldn’t stop. I would take credit for my stupidity, but she needed to fess up to the spell she’d put on me to enjoy asphyxiation and the touch of darkness. Lack of college education notwithstanding, I knew nobody in their right mind longed for less oxygen.The front door shut quietly, but it may as well have been slammed, the soft click sending an edgy vibration to the tip
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“It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” My voice shook. Each step he took toward me, I mimicked in the opposite direction until I stood behind the couch, a simple piece of furniture the only divider between us.“Mm. We don’t know each other that well yet, but we will.” A shattered piece of porcelain crunched beneath his boot.“You act like it will be memorable for me,” I retorted, forced to the front of the couch when he stepped around it.“I’msure it’ll be different than your experiences with pampered college boys.”Frustration tunneled beneath my skin. That was the exact thought that led me into D’yavol’s arms, putting me in a position to be circling a couch to stay away fromhim.“Ivan isn’t a college boy.” There Madame Richie went again, throwing Ivan under the bus.His eyes narrowed dangerously as he braced his hands on the back of the couch. “Maybe not, but he is a pussy.”“You don’t even know him,” I accused.
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I didn’t have the breath to tell him he was speaking Russian. All I knew was, if he kept fingering me, he could have anything he wanted: my heart, my soul, anal—whatever. So I hoped he sought a “yes” response, and I nodded.He abruptly pulled his fingers away. The budding release crashed, and desperation seared through me in waves.“No. Please,” I begged, my eyes flicking open. “Please—”He covered my mouth with a hand and pushed into me with one hard thrust that tore a cry of pain from my throat. It felt like a lance of fire, burning so intensely tears pooled in my eyes. I gripped his forearm for something to hold onto, my blunt nails digging through his shirtsleeve. Reflexively, my back arched in an effort to shove himout, but he was too heavy to remove.Ronan’s heart pounded against my chest, every inch of his body tense. “Kotyonok . . . yesli ya—” He clenched his teeth and tried again in English. “If I pull out, will I have blood on my cock?”
Lost in Moscow's Secret 38
RONANDARKNESS CAST THE ROOM IN shadow, though a golden sheen surrounded Mila’s sleeping form like a halo. The strange glow could be a trick of the light, but the night was a moonless one, meaning there wasn’t any fucking light. With a sense of annoyance, I realized I needed to get my vision checked.My gaze narrowed as it swept down her body—fromher cheek resting on a curtain of long blonde hair, to the shallow breaths escaping parted lips, to the rise and fall of her breasts, and the sliver of visible skin that trailed to her navel. The view was a painter’s wet dream; the girl too flawless to be real.I wanted to slap her.The thought was the only thing that explained the slight tremble in my hands. I slipped them in my pockets, unsure of the bizarre reaction considering my throat tightened in revulsion at the idea of actually following through with it. Though slapping some sense into Mila may benefit her. Maybe then she wouldn’t apologize to men who k
Lost in Moscow's Secret 39
I was relieved to see the dining roomsat empty except for a single filled plate in my spot at the table. After grabbing the dish, I slipped on my boots and coat and stepped outside. The men no longer went silent in my presence, now used to me traipsing around in the snow. Pavel even came over to greet me, following my steps to the kennel while trying out some of the English he was attempting to learn. It was awful, but I’d never tell him.Albert barked something at Pavel, who gave me an apologetic smile. “I leave now. Boss teach mehow . . .” As he scratched his head in thought, a weird sense of anticipation ballooned in my stomach at just the mention of Ronan, knowing he was the only one referred to as “boss” around here. Unable to come up with the word, Pavel moved his hands like they were on a steering wheel.“Drive?” I supplied.“Yes. He tell me I suck ass.”A laugh escaped me. Pavel should probably stick to letting Ro
Lost in Moscow's Secret 40
MILAJUST AS I REACHED THE kennel’s exit, the door opened to reveal a stern-faced Albert. I took a step back, hid my wrist in my coat sleeve, and forced an innocent expression. His suspicious gaze slid from mine to take in the roombehind me.“What are you doing in here?” he asked. “Digging an escape hole into the woods.”Albert was either used to my sarcasm or I was the most pathetic captive in town. He didn’t even consider the possibility I was trying to escape, his eyes narrowing on the only dog in the building.“What are you doing here? I thought you left to go kill people in Moscow.” My stomach tipped when I realized if Albert was here, Ronan probably was too. They’d left the house together. I wondered if they forgot the keys to the underworld and turned back for them.“So you wait to do the things you are not supposed to after we leave?”I frowned in thought. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” He grumbled something in Rus
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MILAINKED FINGERS SLID DOWN MY legs, and the roughness of his hands left goose bumps in their wake. My breath caught when he pushed my thighs apart. My skin was so sensitive, the lightest touch hummed below the surface. His mouth trailed down my neck, sucking and biting a path to my breasts. An emptiness pulsed in my core, begging for pressure and friction—Athump snuffed out the flame inside of me like a candle.My eyes shot open to see the noise was due to the book falling off my lap. I exhaled a ragged breath and, with a sense of disgust at the immoral daydream that sucked me under, I got up from the window seat to pace my room.It was after eleven, but I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, a restlessness played beneath my skin, stretching my body thin. The pull of the moon was working its magic on my newly defiled state. I wished that was all it was, but my fantasies had nothing to do with carnal rituals and lesbian trysts in the woods.
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RONAN “WHEN SOMEONE CALLS YOU A whore, you get the fuck out of their bed,” I growled. “It’s called having a little self-respect.”Did I have to teach this girl the basics before she went home to Miami and let men degrade her? Simply the thought sent a violent fire up my back, searing me with the claim only I was allowed to degrade her.“I don’t need your respect.” Her soft American accent crept beneath my skin, slid downward, and grabbed ahold of my cock just as I imagined her hand would.My gaze hardened. “You don’t know what you need.” “Maybe not, but I do know what I want.”It was clear what that was, but I found myself asking anyway. “And what do you want?” “Right now . . . you.”Fuck. That wasn’t what I expected her to say. I anticipated a silent blush or for her to ask for an orgasm. Not me, her goddamn kidnapper. And right after I insulted her no less—which was a reflex to get her out of my bed before I took wh
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