Twilight Sins (Kulikov Bratva Book 1)
Twilight Sins: Chapter 42

I was right on the verge of a happy dream. The air is warm and languid, the murmur of the pool lapping at the deck’s edges is pleasant, and all is quiet.

Then a shadow falls over me.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

I yelp and jolt up, just as Yakov pops the strap of my bikini top. I instinctively cross my arms over my chest to make sure the girls don’t spill out. “What are you doing here?”

More specifically, what is he doing hovering over me like the angel of death? His mouth is twisted into a frown and his eyes are narrowed. He’s looking at me like I’m the one who just interrupted his Corona commercial of an afternoon.

“I’m trying to figure out why you’re naked by my pool.”

“I’m not naked. I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“I’ve seen you naked. I know what it looks like.” His green eyes make a slow study of my body. “It looks a hell of a lot like this.”

I uncross my arms and lie down again. My back may or may not be slightly more arched than it was a second ago. No one can be sure.

“It’s called a bikini, Yakov.”

He kneels down next to me, still smoldering. “It’s called ‘twenty-four hour surveillance.’ Do you have any fucking clue how many guards have been watching you sit out here in your ‘bikini?’” He drawls the last word with a dose of sarcasm that even Mariya would be impressed by.

I roll my eyes. “If you can’t control your employees, that’s your problem. Not mine.”

A second later, a towel lands ungracefully on my head.

“Hey!” I throw the towel to the ground and stand up. “Last I checked, I’m free, remember? Unless you have handcuffs and a prison jumpsuit you’d like me to wear instead, I’m going to wear whatever the hell I want.”

“Handcuffs.” His eyes flash. “There’s an idea.”

My entire body shivers despite the warmth. “It was a joke. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He closes the distance between us, wrapping an arm around my lower back so I can’t escape. “As long as men on my payroll are in the guard shack watching you, you’re not going to run around in nipple pasties and a thong. Cover yourself. Or I’ll do it for you.”

I slap my hands against his chest. He might as well be a brick wall for as much as he moves, but after a moment, he releases my waist and takes a step back.

“What’s the new rule then? Is this like a school dress code? Maybe you should write down everything I can and can’t wear so I can keep track of it all.”

I plant my fists on my hips. Squaring off with Yakov is laughable. He’s so broad that when he’s standing in front of me, there isn’t anything else. He fills my entire vision. My entire brain.

“How about I make it easy for you to remember?” A dark strand of hair falls over his forehead and my fingers itch to smooth it away. “If I’ve put my mouth there and made your knees buckle, no one but me should see it.”

I gulp. Looks like I’ll be wearing a circus tent then.

“My body doesn’t have a ‘you break it, you buy it’ rule,” I snap past the embarrassed knot in my throat. “You’ve touched me, but you don’t own me.”

I shove against his chest again with all the strength I have out of a sudden, wild impulse to dunk his infuriating ass in the aqua-blue pool behind him. But this time, he doesn’t budge. Not even a hair out of place.

Yakov wraps his massive hands around my wrists and peels them off of him with a cruel chuckle. “Nice try, princess.”

I scowl. “It seemed like you needed to cool off.”

“If I need something, I’ll let you know.” His hands slip to my waist. “You, however, are burning up.”

“No! No, I’m not.”

He runs a finger along my neck. “Dripping with sweat.”

“It’s tanning oil, Yakov.”

He shakes his head, dangerous amusement sparking in his eyes. “No. You’re burning up, Luna. Very, very hot.”

Yakov picks me up and spins me towards the pool.

“No! Stop! Don’t—!” I shriek and flail, but there’s no loosening his hold on my waist. So I do the only thing I can: I attach myself to him. I throw my arms around his neck and hook my legs around his waist just as he readies to throw me.

It brings things to a grinding halt. Emphasis on the “grinding.” With his body pressed against mine, the miniscule amount of fabric covering me really does feel like nothing. Especially when I feel the hard length of him against my inner thigh.

Yakov’s eyes are dark. He’s staring down at me like he’s starving. Like I’m the only thing he has been craving.

I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.

“Checkmate,” I say, my voice shaking.

“You think I can’t still get you wet?” he says in a deep rumble.

Holy hell. Either that’s a doozy of a double entendre or my brain is filthy.

“Not without soaking yourself, too.”

He smirks and I feel the heat of it in my toes, my fingertips, everywhere.

“Oh, solnyshka… that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Then Yakov turns and jumps in the pool.

We hurtle through the air for what feels like forever, but I’m snug against Yakov’s chest. Even when we crash through the water, he doesn’t falter. We sink down together and rise up quickly, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.

When we reach the surface, I don’t even have time to inhale before Yakov’s mouth is over mine.

His hand curves around my neck. Possessive, brutal. He parts my lips with his tongue and slides deep. It’s like I’m still underwater. Like I’m sinking in him, happy to drown in this.

He tugs on the tie around my neck and my flimsy bikini top falls. Yakov brushes his thumb over my ribs, shifting higher with every stroke. If he keeps getting me hot and bothered like this, the pool water is gonna start boiling.

His hand slips to the tie at my hip and pesky reality breaks through.

“The guards,” I breathe, pulling back to look at him. “You said the guards⁠—”

“No one is watching. My men know better.” He sucks on the soft curve behind my ear while his hands knead my ass.

“But… you said there were guards watching me.” He walks me to the edge of the pool and pins me between the tile wall and his body. The brush of his cock against my inner thigh makes it hard to think. “I thought I was under ‘constant surveillance.’”

His voice goes hoarse. “You are. But I warned all of them what I’d do if they looked at you for any reason other than what was strictly required for protection.”

“You told them not to look at me?”

“They were probably breaking their necks trying to look away when you walked outside wearing this.” He undoes the tie around my back, freeing me of the top entirely.

“Why?”

He knows exactly what I mean. Why would he do that? Why would he bother to tell his men not to look at me?

“Because,” Yakov explains, massaging his hands up my thighs until his thumbs stroke the last thin strip of fabric covering me, “no one else gets to enjoy what is mine.”

I want to tell him I’m not his. Actually, I want to want to tell him that. The reality is that every word out of his mouth is one more nail in the coffin of my dignity.

At least it died for a good cause. A good-looking cause, rather.

“How do you do that?” I whisper. “You say things like that… Things that should terrify me. But instead, they just…”

His thumbs circle higher, closer. He’s sweeping over my slit, dragging delicious friction over my clit. “Just what?”

I lick a drop of water from his neck and press my lips to his ear. “They make me really, really wet.”

A growl rumbles through his chest. He tugs my bottoms to the side and presses the tip of his dick to my entrance. “I know what you want, Luna. And you know only I can give it to you.”

Then the time for talking is over with. He presses into me slowly, letting me adjust to the size of him. I tip my head back against the lip of the pool and let out a long, broken sigh. He keeps going for what feels like an eternity. I’m taking and taking him until I can barely breathe. That sigh slows to a whimper, then to nothing at all.

When he’s fully seated in me, he draws back and fills me again. The water slows his thrusts so I have no choice but to feel every single inch of him sliding against me. It’s a slow, devastating drag in and out. The heat and strength of his body, cool pool water lapping at my nipples—I’m burning up and freezing at the same time.

His hand dips below the water and then his thumb is on my clit. He pulls and pinches until I’m vibrating.

“You might as well get the first one out of the way,” he advises with a dark laugh. “No point in delaying the inevitable.”

I squeeze my eyes closed. My mouth falls open and a string of moans and jumbled thoughts pours out of me as I pulse around Yakov. By the time I’m done coming, I’m drooling.

Yakov kisses my neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful when I make you come.”

I peek one eye open to see he’s watching me. His pupils are blown so wide that his eyes are nearly black. I literally just came, but the look in his eyes makes me immediately want to do it again and again.

As long as he’ll keep looking at me like that, I’ll do anything he wants.

I wrap my arms around his neck and angle my hips until he fills me all the way again. “Am I still beautiful when I make you come?” I tease.

Yakov spins around so he’s the one against the wall. It takes every muscle I have to impale myself on his cock again and again. He made it look easy. No surprise there.

As I grind up and down his throbbing cock, he presses his forehead against mine and murmurs, “Only one way to find out.”

That’s when I kick the turbo jets on. I ride him as hard as I can, panting between kisses, stroking my fingers through his damp hair, until finally, Yakov goes rigid.

“Fuck, Luna.” His fingers dig into my hips as he jerks and spills into me. The strain in his voice as he says my name is enough to send me over the edge with him.

I lie my head on his chest as I finish. His heart is thundering at the same rate as mine.

Back inside, I wait for Yakov to abandon me for his office. He’ll find some excuse to leave—a meeting, a call. But he follows me down the hall to his room. Our room, for all intents and purposes.

I bend down to find a pair of jeans from my bottom drawer and Yakov growls.

“That fucking bikini.” He pulls his damp shirt over his head, and just like that, I’m the one biting back a groan. It should be illegal for him to look that good and glisten. I half-expect his hair to start blowing in a nonexistent breeze.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re gonna kill someone in that thing.”

“I can’t tell if you love it or hate it,” I remark, padding into the bathroom to change. I shouldn’t be embarrassed changing in front of him, but it feels too domestic for whatever it is that’s happening between us.

“It depends who you’re wearing it for.” I hear drawers opening and closing in the bedroom. “If you’re wearing it for me, I fucking love it.”

I bite the corner of my mouth to hide a smile. “And if it’s for someone else?”

I’m sliding on my jeans when Yakov appears behind me. I catch the flex of his jaw in the reflection of the mirror. He cups his hands over the bikini top, crumpling the fabric in his hands. “If it’s for someone else, then I’m going to shred it, burn it, scatter the ashes to the wind, and then cuff you spreadeagled to a bed so I can remind you that no other man will ever touch you the way I do.”

As good as that sounds, I can’t lie. The growly, snarly, no-one-else-should-ever-fucking-dare possessiveness in his voice has wiped my brain completely clean. I’m not capable of giving him anything except the truth.

“It’s for you,” I whisper. “There’s no one else.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good.”

Then Yakov turns and retreats back into the bedroom like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, I grip the edge of the sink and dunk my face in the cold water. Suffice it to say that he and I handle sexual tension in very different ways.

My legs are still unsteady when I walk out a few minutes later to find Yakov fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. What’s happening here? I want to ask. What am I to you?

But I can’t force the words out. I’m afraid whatever I say will break this tenuous balance we’ve found. If I ask the wrong question or push too hard, the walls of this sandcastle we’re living in will crumble.

“I heard you spent the day with my sister.”

There it is. The familiar hot-and-cold teeter-totter. Melt my skin with naughty words one second. Interrogate me about your sister the next.

I arch a brow. “How do you know that? You said I wasn’t being watched.”

“You’re always being watched, but never looked at. There’s a difference.” Yakov illustrates that difference by taking his eyes on a slow, thorough tour of my body. If he likes what he sees, he shows no sign of it.

I wrap my arms around myself self-consciously. “Mariya and I didn’t get off on the best foot this morning and I wanted to fix things. I kind of latched onto her when she got back from the mall. I guess it worked. She asked me to sit by the pool with her.”

“You wore that to sit with my sister by the pool?” He blows out a ragged breath.

I decide right here and now to never tell Yakov that his sister originally bought the bikini for herself. He’s been through too much trauma as it is.

“She thought it was very cool. Body positivity is all the rage with the teens.” I shrug. “But she opened up to me a bit. About… everything.”

“Nik talked to her for half an hour this morning and she didn’t say a word, but she opened up to you. Un-fucking-real.”

I chew on my lower lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to overstep, but⁠—”

He waves me off. “What did she say?”

“I think it all boils down to her being lonely. She missed you and Nikandr when she was away. She’s happy to be back and she wants to feel welcome here.”

“That would be a lot easier if I’d had a single goddamn clue she was coming.” Yakov drags a hand down his jaw. “She showed up out of nowhere and expects life to stand still for her. Nik and I have shit to do.”

“She knows that.”

Yakov gives me a sharp look.

“I’m not picking sides,” I tell him hurriedly. “I’m just saying… Mariya wants to know you and Nik. She wants this place to be her home. Can you blame her?”

“Hardly.”

“I see the confidence streak runs in the family.”

Yakov smiles and then stands up with a sigh. “Well, keep talking to her. Right now, you’re the only person Mariya even remotely likes. If she’s going to talk, I’d rather it be with someone I trust.”

Yakov trusts me.

Ka-boom. There goes another bombshell.

I bite back a smile and nod. “Absolutely. Whatever you want.”

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