Scarred Monster Page 6

  She moaned in assent, still unable to speak, as he grabbed the pillow and placed it under her belly. Liliana pushed her ass upwards at him in offering, aware of how exposed she was, but she’d shed any sense of embarrassment a long time ago.

  Caleb slid off the bed, only to return, lube in his hand. She felt his fingers applying the cool, thick liquid inside her asshole a moment later. Liliana rested her cheek against the pillow, wiggling her buttocks suggestively at him only to receive a playful swat.

  She was glad that from this position, he wouldn’t be able to see her blushing hard. He added a second digit, impossibly patient with the task. Caleb must have finally deemed her ready, because he replaced his hand with his dick. Gripping her hips, he pushed a few inches in her. She gasped at the sting, clawing at the sheets, but the burn was soon replaced by his fingers rubbing at her pussy, her clit.

  “Will you take this for me, baby?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Slowly, he made his way deep inside her, until his balls brushed against her ass cheeks. Then he began to move. The sensation was strange, different, but he didn’t stop fingering her cunt. Liliana was wet in moments, and he picked up the pace, finally letting out a gasp, and filling her ass with his seed. A pinch to her clit undid her. The vision of the charming little inn room fell away from her line of sight, as she came once more, screaming out his name.

  Liliana collapsed on the sheets, content. She closed her eyes, then felt Caleb’s weight off the bed and a towel between her legs a moment later. He joined her soon after, tucking her body close to his.

  “I love you,” she told him simply, her heart swelling with tenderness for the man she’d waited for a very long time.

  He hugged her tighter. “I fucking love you, too, baby.”

  Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  Caleb closed the front door behind him, nice and careful with the intention to surprise his wife. He’d taken half the day off from work and had gotten his partner, Garth, to cover for him at the security firm. Hearing the sound of Ben crying in the nursery, followed by Liliana’s soothing voice, made him smile.

  He leaned against the door for a moment, still holding onto the bouquet of roses and box of her favorite chocolates in one hand. It was hard to imagine that a scarred monster who came home in pieces finally had everything he wanted.

  Caleb knew he wasn’t the easiest person to deal with. A couple of times, he’d wondered if Liliana would leave, slamming the door behind her and never come back, but she’d stuck with him, through thick and thin. Even during the worst of his PTSD, she always reminded him he wasn’t alone, that they could battle his inner demons together.

  He was getting better, and now went once a week to his therapy sessions. Caleb was a lucky bastard. He had a wife, a son, a home. Liliana and he traveled all over the country for a while, before settling on a small, remote town where no one knew or cared who she was.

  There was no instant cure, no magic eraser to wipe all he’d seen and done during his time in the army, but he was doing all right.

  “Caleb? Is that you?” Liliana called from the nursery.

  Caleb was about to walk over to her and Ben, when he noticed the little device on a piece of tissue paper on the coffee table. He set the flowers and chocolates down and picked up the pregnancy test, heart racing.

  A positive.

  When Liliana announced she’d been pregnant with Ben, she’d been so apprehensive and shy, because they’d only been officially together for a month. Caleb recalled the fears he’d harbored, how he’d never be a good father because the one he got had been more interested in using his fists and drinking himself to death. When Liliana told him she had doubts, too, because her parents had raised her in such an indifferent matter, he realized they were in the same boat.

  “Hey there, so you saw the kit,” Liliana said by the doorway of Ben’s nursery.

  She stood there, barefoot, wearing that light blue sundress that was his favorite, her hair unbound, like silken waves behind her. Since Ben was no longer crying, Caleb guessed she must have rocked him successfully to sleep.

  “We’re having another baby?” he asked, just for confirmation.

  She bit her lower lip and approached him closer. “Are you mad?”

  “God, why would I be?” Caleb pulled her close to a hug, sealing his lips over hers. She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I think we did all right with Ben.”

  “You’re so great with him, you know that?” she whispered.

  He’d never thought in his entire life he’d hear those words.

  “It’s because I have an amazing partner,” he told her.

  “Is that so?” She pressed her breasts against his chest, and he groaned. The little minx knew what kind of an effect that had on him. His cock pulsed in his jeans. “So, what brings you home early, baby?”

  He nuzzled her neck, nipping at the bite mark he left there this morning. “It’s our anniversary, or did you forget?”

  She laughed, the sound musical to his ears. Some days, he still couldn’t believe this beautiful woman was his, that they had a son together, managed to build this gorgeous home.

  “Of course I did. Your favorite’s roast in the oven and…” She trailed off. “And, I’m wearing something nice for you under this dress.”

  His cock thickened. Caleb could take her here and now. He raised his eyebrows instead, ran his hand down her side, lifted the hem of her dress and found what he sought. His fingers touched silk and lace. Caleb let out a rumble. “You know how I love seeing lace on you.”

  “I know.” His wife wore a tempting smile, then had the gall to bat his fingers away. “But, we’re having dinner first.”

  She was about to head back to the kitchen, but he grabbed her shoulder, spun her, and pulled her in close for a kiss. Caleb closed his hand on the back of her neck, taking her slow and tender, as if they had all the time in the world. Caleb reached for her breasts and gave her left nipple a tug. Liliana let out a muffled moan.

  Once he was done, she panted, her eyes wide.

  “No fair,” she whispered. “You know how lethal your kisses are.”

  “It’s your fault, for teasing me.” Caleb licked his lips.

  “Oh, I recognize that wicked glint in your eyes, Mister,” she began, but didn’t stop him from edging her towards their bedroom.

  “I’ve decided,” he told her.

  “What’s that?” she asked, voice a little breathy.

  “That I want to have dessert first.”

  The End

  www.evernightpublishing.com/winter-sloane

  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  THE HITMAN’S OBSESSION

  Ivanov Crime Family, 1

  Winter Sloane

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Dimitri took another round about the room, his footsteps quiet despite his size. He was a big motherfucker and could hit like a truck, but as muscle for the Ivanov family, he knew how to move silently in a crowded room.

  Cigarette smoke clouded the room. Loud and brash voices were occasionally interrupted by screams and pleas. Cocky grins soon turn to agonized wails. Dimitri couldn’t count the number of times he’d seen arrogant bastards fall.

  The moment they realized they’d lost everything, gambled their most precious possessions—car, pretty wife, and offspring, to the Ivanov family for a good hand of cards.

  They disgusted him, yet Dimitri depended on these scum to keep his job. Good for fucking and killing, nothing else, his father told him once. Maybe that was true for all the men in the Ivanov family.

  Sensing someone approaching, Dimitri turned, hand resting on the hilt of his modified Beretta. The lackey in the cheap suit took a step back from him, gaze lingering on the grinning skulls and crossbones of his signature weapon.

  “Problem, Johnny?” he asked. Johnny had worked under him, a good kid. Well, Dimitri called all newbies that. Johnny worked hard, played hard, a
nd was loyal as hell. These days, loyalty was hard to come by.

  Johnny relaxed. “It’s time, Dimitri.”

  Dimitri nodded, hooded eyes lingering on the floor. “Keep a watch on the blackjack table number three. You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

  Johnny’s eyes widened. “Not Anatoli?”

  Dimitri shook his head. “Not after he screwed up the Rossi job.”

  Striding away from the main casino floor, he headed to the door with the sign “Employees Only” on it. The two men on guard gave him a curt nod, letting him pass. Dimitri took a left turn. More guards stood watch here. The boss merely wanted him to oversee procedures, to ensure this fucker Mitch Wyatt coughed up all the money he borrowed, plus interest.

  Dimitri wasn’t the family bookie, but according to Vasily, this rat bastard needed watching. Wyatt had slipped from their radar once, not wanting to pay back what he owed. No one fucked with the Ivanov family and got away with it.

  Giving the two suits a nod, Dimitri entered Vlad’s office. Cigarette smoke slipped out, along with the stink of fear. The source came from the thin balding man. Dimitri noticed all the signs—sweat soaked shirt and the way Wyatt’s trembling hands held onto a leather suitcase for dear life.

  Wyatt took up the couch facing the desk. The young woman sitting beside him caught Dimitri’s attention. Frowning, he leaned against the door.

  He made sure to keep his suit jacket unbuttoned, so the rat bastard had a perfect view of his guns. Threats always worked well. Fear drove men to do the right thing. One look at Wyatt and Dimitri understood why the boss man wanted him present for this meeting.

  Who did Wyatt bring with him, collateral damage? Dimitri only had eyes for the woman. She must be in her early twenties. Her white-blonde hair had been tightly constrained in a long single braid that fell over one bare shoulder. Her heart-shaped face looked stiff, blue eyes staring carefully at nothing.

  Dimitri raked his gaze lower, from the tempting curve of her luscious lips to the generous swell of her breasts, peeking from her top. Fuck, but he could imagine those pouty lips wrapped around his cock, those tits bouncing while he fucked her senseless. She had fine curves, too, under that thin top. Dimitri bet she had a shapely ass, too.

  Fuck.

  It wasn’t just her body that kept him mystified, but the way she held herself. Unlike Wyatt, she didn’t cower, or slink in defeat. She turned his head, as if noticing the brunt of his stare.

  Eyes he’d thought were blue turned out to be bi-colored. The other iris was a bright emerald green. Both blue and green blazed with hatred, then wary resignation.

  Dimitri knew absolutely nothing about this woman, but he saw the steel in her spine. She bit down on her lower lip so hard it began to bleed. Looking away from his gaze, he noticed her rubbing her palms over his jeans. Anger surged through him.

  Something so pure, so blindingly hard to look at, didn’t belong in a place like this.

  What was going on with him? Dimitri shouldn’t lose his mind over a woman. He never married, never committed to any kind of relationship. No time for something like that and besides, emotions made a killer weak. Yet seeing this mystery blonde put strange suggestions in his head.

  “Why is the Ivanov Hound here?” Wyatt asked, looking nervously at him. Wyatt couldn’t hold his gaze for long. Most people flinched, seeing the scars.

  “Calm down, Wyatt. Dimitri is merely here for security’s sake, to make sure you wouldn’t run again,” Vlad stated, rubbing his hands together.

  “I won’t think of it.” Wyatt gripped the handle of the suitcase harder. “That’s why I brought my daughter along.”

  Dimitri didn’t like the way Vlad looked at the woman, like a man appraising his new conquest. Then again, Vlad looked at all women that way. Vlad represented humanity’s worst, but Vlad was Vasily’s brother, therefore untouchable.

  Dimitri cracked his knuckles, and the popping sound made Wyatt jump in his seat. Vlad threw him a glare, but didn’t tell him off. The fucker knew better than that, given Dimitri was the family’s best bogeyman.

  Dimitri didn’t like the fact Wyatt never referred to his daughter by name, as if he wanted to disassociate himself with the filthy deed he was about to do.

  “What’s her name?” he practically barked.

  Wyatt’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  The woman lifted her chin and met his gaze again, undaunted by his scars, size, or the gun peeking from his jacket. “Sonia.”

  Vlad chuckled, as if this was all some comedy show to him. “Never seen the Hound so unsettled by pussy.”

  Dimitri’s fingers twitched. It would be so easy to wrap his fingers around the comforting handle of his gun and shoot several holes into Vlad’s body. Calming his temper, he settled for crossing his arms instead. What the fuck? Dimitri had been this close to signing his own death sentence over a stranger.

  Vasily Ivanov might value his skills, but the Bratva had iron-clad rules about family. Vlad was blood, and despite all of Dimitri’s contributions, he wasn’t a real Ivanov. His father, brothers, grew up by the gun and died by it, too, leaving Dimitri an orphaned killer.

  The head of the Ivanov family took him in, taught him loyalty, and gave him an identity. Dimitri had vowed to give Vasily Ivanov his loyalty until his death. He could endure scum like Vlad.

  Looking disappointed Dimitri hadn’t reacted to the comment, Vlad returned his attention to Wyatt. “Let’s get on with business.”

  Shaking, Wyatt unclasped the case. Dimitri frowned, watching the man closely, in case Wyatt might be stupid enough to pull a fast one on them. The chances were small, given his daughter was beside him. Dimitri made it point to never underestimate people so he could never be surprised.

  Desperate men did foolish things. Period.

  Stacked dollar bills lined the case. Wyatt began laying in all out on the paper.

  “Dimitri, let Tommy in. He’s my counter,” Vlad said.

  Dimitri opened the door. “Tommy. Vlad needs you.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to call Vlad “boss”. That title Dimitri reserved for Vasily. Vlad had a long way to go before earning Dimitri’s respect or that of his men.

  One of the two muscle heads entered and quickly counted the bills.

  Tommy traded a look with Vlad. Dimitri already knew Wyatt didn’t bring it all.

  “Missing the eight percent interest,” Tommy announced.

  Dimitri continued watching Sonia, who dug her nails into her palm so hard, skin bled. Her pathetic excuse of a father had known, he realized. Wyatt had no intention of bringing her back home with him.

  “Y-you said if I bring my daughter, we can forget about interest. She’s still a virgin,” Wyatt said, as if that last bit helped.

  Dimitri quietly seethed.

  “Why don’t we see for ourselves, eh?” Vlad pointed out.

  “Dad, what’s happening?” Sonia whispered, leveling frightened eyes at her father.

  Wyatt didn’t tell her a thing. That only fueled Dimitri’s rage. What kind of father gave up his daughter to Russian mafia, to men like Vlad who didn’t give two fucks about rules?

  Tommy started transferring the pile of cash into a small black duffel—clearing the desk, Dimitri realized. He had a bad feeling he knew what was about to take place, and it turned his stomach. Before Vlad took over the family book keeping, they’d never dealt with flesh.

  Dimitri had never signed on for this kind of distasteful shit.

  Wyatt was halfway out of his seat, but Dimitri moved to block the door, lips peeled back to a snarl. Sonia remained in her seat, looking like a pale doll as the truth finally dawned in her eyes.

  “Good job, Dimitri,” Vlad called, like he was some dog the asshole could order around.

  Needing to unleash his rage on someone, Dimitri shoved Wyatt back in his seat. Gunfire erupted, making him jump back. Sonia screamed, toppling out of her seat until her back hit the wall.

  A neat bullet hol
e found itself at the center of Wyatt’s forehead, except the wound wasn’t neat. Chunks of skin and face had been blown off. Vlad pretended to blow off smoke from his gun.

  “What the fuck, Vlad?” Dimitri demanded. “We kill clients now? We lend people money, they pay us back. We’ll lose out if word gets out.”

  “No one will know. Bring the girl to me,” Vlad said, licking his lips. The disgusting son-of-a-bitch set his revolver on top of his desk and began jerking his zipper down. Tommy finished putting the last wad of cash in the bag.

  Vlad raised an eyebrow when Dimitri didn’t move. Sonia started to make little pained noises. She slumped against the wall. Specks of blood splattered her face and the front of her top, all of it belonging to her father.

  “Shut the bitch up. Dimitri, don’t make me repeat myself. If you’re not man enough, I’ll ask Tommy.” Vlad spoke in a bored voice, but his face told Dimitri otherwise.

  Vlad took sick pleasure in claiming Sonia in front of Dimitri, knowing full well Dimitri had been entranced by her. Tommy took a step towards her, halting when Dimitri held out a hand.

  “I got this.”

  “Don’t worry. I share my possessions among my men. Just wait your turn,” Vlad told him with a sneer.

  End of sample chapter

  http://www.evernightpublishing.com/hitmans-obsession-by-winter-sloane

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