Redemption (The Volkov Mafia Series Book 4) (4 page)

I drag my hands up towards his t-shirt and pull it over his head, my fingers itching to explore more of him. The belt buckle is next. I look up through hooded eyes as I pull it open, pop the row of buttons on his jeans and stand amazed as they fall effortlessly from his hips. I gasp a little as I see he is hard for me, thick and long, able to fill the void he left behind from before. It’s a sorry state when after only two hours I’m craving him again.

His mouth traces down my neck and across my collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive spots. His hands hold me in place against the wall and his hips push his cock closer to my tummy. Heat emanates from the tip and I’m getting wetter by the second. I can feel it in between my thighs, warm and wet, just for Alek.

His knee nudges my thighs apart and I spread them freely for him. My arms loop around his neck as his knee pushes me further up the wall. My legs grip onto his hips to keep myself where he wants me. The only thing separating us now is the blue thong, but I have a feeling that won’t matter much longer. His kisses are hungry and full of passion for me, and I’m lapping every bit of it up, not knowing when I will feel like this again.

He grips the side of my thong. I hear the tearing of the fabric and he quickly pulls them off. As my jaw hangs open at the sight before me, he quickly stuffs the blue material inside my mouth.

“This is going to be hard and fast, baby. You’re not going to be able to scream as the house is full.”

I nod at his words as his cock finds my pussy and barrels upwards in one quick stroke, knocking the air from my lungs. The pleasure consumes me as he finds his rhythm. His hips never stop, pistoning hard and fast, rolling on the up stroke to catch my g–spot. It doesn’t take long before I’m screaming into the thong stuffed in my mouth.

My muffled sounds only seem to spur him on. His hands move up my body; one grips onto my arse, and the other is now wrapped around my neck keeping my head against the wall as he pumps faster, taking me to new places. I feel like I’m floating, and the little white spots I see just behind my closed eyes are a blinding moment of release. I open my eyes a little and see his face set in a hard line. Sweat forms on his sexy body, trickling down his pecs towards his pelvis and to where we join. My back feels red raw from sliding viciously up and down the wall.

His movements waver as he gets closer. He drops his hand from my neck and puts it on my clit, squeezing gently at first, then he becomes faster as he is teetering on the edge, his fingers get harder. The pressure is enough to send me over with a muffled scream. He freezes deep inside me as he releases everything he has, coating me, claiming me, branding me.

His mouth finds mine again in a kiss so passionate our breathing becomes laboured. Sweat coats our writhing bodies. He pulls out and drops me to the floor, placing me back on shaky legs.

Chapter Four

Alekzander

“Alek! Alek! Wake up.” The siren’s call pulls me from my nightmare. I wake up with a start, my body doused in sweat.

Her arm is resting on my chest; it feels like a lead weight, pinning me down, suffocating me. I bolt upright in her bed. Her arm drops as she retrieves the duvet to cover herself from me. It’s the same nightmare over and over again; my mother screaming to be saved as they deliver the final blow, but I didn’t see it. My mind has come up with this scenario, formed from the pieces that I could place, all the little snippets that come and go every now and then.

My hands twitch and my mind goes into overdrive. The only way I can prevent this from spiraling out of control is to take my mind off the problem. Normally I would open the laptop and place a few bets just to forget the pain for a little while.

“Are you ok, Alekzander?” Her voice is timid and meek, like a lost little puppy looking for its master.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep, Emma,” I tell her, trying to keep my breathing under control, when all I want to do is climb out of bed, grab the laptop and open up one of the online betting sites. Horse racing, football, formula one, as well as all the casino games; Blackjack, Poker, Roulette. You name it, I can bet on it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks me politely.

“No, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, ok! I told you it was nothing so go back to sleep. Just let it be!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice at her. She flinches at my words and I suddenly feel like a twat. 

“Your right, sorry!” Her tone is anything but sorry, it sounds downright sarcastic. I watch as she scrambles out of the bed like her feet are on fire. She grabs my clothes and throws them at me.

“Get out, Alek. You don’t get to speak to me like that. I’ve had to deal with enough arseholes to last me a lifetime.”

I make a move to stand. I watch as her eyes roam my body as the clothes drop to the floor. I could change her mind — it wouldn’t take much — but I think right now that would only make it worse for both of us. I scoop up my clothes and make my way to her bedroom door, naked. I’m not ashamed of how I look, and the chance of finding anyone out of bed at this time of the morning is very slim. So I pull open the door and walk out.

If that’s the way she wants to play it then so be it. She will cave before I give in to her. But no sooner I get into my room and remove my clothes, I miss her warmth already. For months now she has been the only woman that I’ve wanted to fall asleep with, but I’m not going to dwell on that. I have something here that will take all the pain away and will never give me shit.

I open the laptop and load up the favorites page. I know exactly what I will see as soon as it loads the login page. The details are already saved so all I have to do is hit enter, and I’m in. 

I place a couple of small bets to take the edge off, nothing huge, though. I can’t take that risk again.

I hit the roulette first, I always play the zero. That’s just my number, sometimes it pays sometimes it doesn’t. Tonight, however, it’s not paying, and before I know it I’ve made a few too many bets and spent near enough all of the credit I had gained on the account.

Good job I know my bank card details off by heart; time to make a little deposit to try and get me back in the game.

It’s about eight o’clock in the morning when I finally close the laptop, and I’m now in a worse mood than I was before. I just couldn’t help myself, I had to try and win it back. This was exactly how I was with mum, and when shit really hit the fan, I swore to Damien I was done, that I didn’t need to gamble anymore, that I wouldn’t ever put his family at risk again.

There is something seriously wrong with me if I can’t do something that should be so easy, to keep the family that took me in safe. They saved me when I needed it most.

I look down at the screen that holds the fate of my family and realise I’ve done it again. There will be no coming back this time; he will kill me if I hurt them again. Not just him, he has Malc as well. He won’t hesitate to put me down. To take me out like some sick dog on its last legs.

Do you ever wish you could have a do over in life? Well, right now I wish I could have one. That first time I ever gambled, I would’ve simply stopped myself. I would have been stronger. I would have walked away.

But no. I had to go and get myself in all this shit and bring trouble. It’s like history repeating itself. I just can’t seem to stop.

I’ve found someone else to loan me the money. Granted, not as much as Ivan did, but it’s a start. I must owe him 10k by next week. I’ve had two months to pay it off, but I haven’t got a penny of it. I blew everything I had on a stupid bet because I was sure I would win. That’s the choice you make when you gamble, pussy on tap. No one can twist your arm. Just when you think it’s all over and you finally try to come to terms with the new life you have now, you always have to do something to fuck it up! It’s like we have our own self-destruct button, that every time we sense a bit of relief or that happiness is coming our way, we inadvertently fuck it up.

Well that’s what I’m doing now: I’m digging my own grave, and using the biggest damn shovel I can find.

I can’t see how I’m going to get out of this one. I can’t ask Damien for money. He would kill me if he knew I was gambling again. He told me last time I needed to get my shit sorted or I was out, that he would wash his hands of me for good. I can’t say I like that idea, not because of losing Damien, hell no! It’s the thought of not seeing Emma every day; the smile she gives me in the morning as she sits in the kitchen drinking her coffee, or when she’s getting ready for the day as I’m about to leave for work. Those are the little moments that keep me grounded, knowing that someone has had it worse than me and their not cowering behind some damn laptop screen looking for their next fix, so to speak.

I’m the coward who can’t control his urges, who hides behind the pain and grief. I will never get over the death of my mother. I’m weak and give in to temptation. I wish I was hooked on something or someone else. Emma makes it better when I’m around her. She calms the storm that’s brewing deep inside.

I need to see her. I need to see her sat in that chair in the kitchen drinking her coffee. I need that smile. Whether I get it or not is a different matter, especially after what I said to her early this morning. But I have to try ...

I quickly jump in the shower and wash myself. No sooner I get in, I’m out just as quick. Opening the wardrobe, I pull out a nice, crisp, white shirt, and a pair of black trousers, and slip them on. The fit is a little tighter now that I’ve been working out several times a day. I roll up the sleeves to my elbows, putting my tattoos on show, hoping to entice her with the ink I know she loves.

Leaving the top two buttons undone, I grab my shoes, put them on and make my way towards the kitchen. I will see that smile even if she doesn’t want to give it to me freely.

I walk into the kitchen and my heart plummets; she’s not sat there. I quickly look around and notice there is no scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. I can’t even smell her perfume. I know she’s not been down this morning. I can’t say I blame her after what I said earlier.

I’m not leaving this house until I’ve spoken to her. I don’t want her to shut me out, or for things to change between us. I walk out of the kitchen and head upstairs to her room.

Knocking on the door gently, I wait, hoping that she answers.

“What do you want, Alek? I have nothing to say to you,” I hear her sweet voice through the door, and it’s like music to my ears. Her words, on the other hand, make my fists clench at my sides. I want to bust the door down and make sure she fucking talks to me. But I don’t; I hold back knowing that brute force is not what’s needed right now.

“I just want to say sorry, Emma … it wasn’t anything you did. I just have a load of shit going on and, with everything that’s happened, I still struggle to cope sometimes.” I try to be honest and soften my tone for her.

“I only asked if you were ok, or if you needed to talk about it, but you shut me out and spoke to me like a piece of shit. Don’t you think I’ve had enough of men treating me like that?”

I know she is closer to the door now because her voice sounds much louder. I just hope this time she lets me in.

“Open the door, Emma. Can we talk about it now?” I ask, hoping my tone is sincere.

She doesn’t reply, but then I hear the unmistakable sound of the lock on the door being opened.

She pulls it open ajar and looks at me for a moment before moving out of the way to let me pass.

“You need to talk to me. If you want a shot at this then you have to be honest, and if you ever speak to me like that again I will cut your fucking balls off while you sleep.”

I take a step back and my balls tighten at her words, but the odd thing is that my dick starts to twitch at her tone … fuck, her talking back and demanding has me getting hard for her.

“Look, I can’t tell you everything right now. Trust me, if I did you would run, and you would never look at me the same way again, but I will tell you why I woke up like I did.”

I hope it’s enough. I know if this gets serious then I’m going to have to tell her more, but not right now. I don’t think I could handle it if she walked away from me. I couldn’t stay in this house knowing she was here, not being able to talk to her, touch her or fuck her.

“Talk,” she demands.

“I have the same dream most nights, about my mother, like I was there while they beat her. I watched her take her final breath, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to help her. Worst of all is the guilt that eats away at me knowing that it’s all my fault.”

I rush through as quickly as possible, not wanting to dwell on my thoughts, but needing her to see that I’m trying to give her what she needs.

“Why would you be ashamed of telling me something like that? If you would have said that to me when you woke, do you think I would have kicked you out of here? No, I would have held you and told you that your mother’s death wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done anything to stop Ivan, but he got his just rewards, your brother made sure of that. That’s what families do, and you need to trust that yours will always have your back.”

Her words don’t make me as pissed as I thought they would, but she doesn’t get it. My need to gamble caused all of this. My own addiction was my downfall. My arrogance, thinking that I could run, got my mother killed. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I might as well have loaded the damn bullets.

“It’s hard to admit something like that, it’s like admitting your own weaknesses. You can’t do it if you’re not ready to make the change and conquer what’s bringing you down, and for months now I haven’t been ready,” I tell her.

“Alek, I get that, but after everything you said to me — before you got in my pants — you became as cold as ice, shutting down so that no one could get close. You’re like a chameleon, only showing people what you want them to see.”

Normally I don’t really give a shit what people say, but for some reason this girl just gets through.

“Look, Emma, I have tried to give you the best explanation I can. I don’t want to push you away like everyone else, but you can’t expect me to be perfect overnight.”

I can see it in her eyes that she knows what I’m saying is true. I wouldn’t stand here and let anyone else talk to me like this; if this was someone at work, I would have wiped the floor with them the second they tried to answer back.

“I know,” she whispers.

Even though we don’t talk much, she has been around me for months. She knows what I’m like, just like I know her. I always absorb everything I can about her. I have it all stored away for a rainy day.

“Look, I have to go to work, but are we ok picking this up tonight when I get back in? I don’t want to leave you, but I have to right now,” I say, hoping she can see the truth in my eyes.

She nods her head and, looking up into my eyes, she gives me what I need to be on my way. I get my smile …