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I wanted this.
This wasn’t a duty to me. The end result, pregnancy, might be the duty for me, but in getting to that point, I was determined for it to be nonstop pleasure.
Slavik slammed inside me one final time, and he was so long and thick, I felt each pulse of his arousal as it flooded me. Moments passed. Seconds turned into minutes before he reached over and picked up some tissues. He pulled out of me and I felt some of his cum spill down. The tissue helped to capture some of it. He cleaned me up even as my face grew hot from the attention. There was no stopping him. He helped me back into my panties, jeans, bra, crop top, and his shirt.
I had no idea what to do, so I stepped away from him, and he didn’t stop me.
Not once had he kissed me.
My lips felt that loss.
The few times he’d taken the time to kiss me, I’d relished every single second. I enjoyed the sex, which was a huge relief as I knew many women in our world didn’t. The sex I’d heard had often been violent and scary. Of course none of the women had known I’d been listening in on their conversations, slowly growing more terrified at the prospect of having my own husband.
The books became a source of comfort. While the ladies in our circles told scary sex tales, the books gave me hope that they simply didn’t enjoy it.
“Cara called again,” Slavik said, breaking through the silence.
Was he uncomfortable?
I turned from the window to look at him.
“She asked me permission to take you to lunch next week.”
“And did you tell her no?”
“No, I didn’t. I said you could go,” he said.
So far, any attempt at friendship Cara had made, he’d squashed. They were supposed to be friends, and it hurt he didn’t want me to be friends with his.
“You did?”
“Yes. I’ve already arranged a guard to be with you. It’s important he stays with you at all times. You leave or don’t follow my rules, you’ll not be allowed to go anywhere else again.”
I nodded. I was happy.
Cara seemed like a nice woman. She held a high position within the Volkov Bratva. She was the first woman I knew who didn’t allow a man to talk to her like she was crap, or allow them to treat her like a piece of property.
My father had always been firm in the belief we belonged to him. We were nothing but pawns to meet his end goals. As much as I didn’t have value, I became quite a useful cog in the peace treaty between our families.
Slavik checked the time. “We need to get going,” he said. “I need you to change.”
The sun had started to set, and I frowned. “Where are we going?”
“To a private event. Exclusive.”
“You don’t have any more details?”
“I’m not sure you’re going to like it,” he said.
“Oh.”
****
Slavik
Noise greeted us the moment we entered the underground facility. The entire setup changed and moved between my cities, the invites going out via text or email. The location nothing more than a set of coordinates. The fights had been going for nearly five years now. In all that time, only two fights had been removed and the location changed because someone decided to cave and give the details to the police.
From my men on my payroll, they’d sent me the alert of the impending invasion, and I’d gotten plenty of time to move myself and the fight to another location. The police had found nothing more than empty space, even with some paperwork about the potential renovations for business purposes.
I was always one step ahead.
The very people who’d ratted the fight no longer had a very comfortable life. One of them was dead, the other lived on the streets, having lost their fortune. The warning was simple, don’t rat us out, and we won’t come after you.
These fights earned a great deal of money. Blood money. They weren’t the standard, organized fist-slamming shown on television. This was a death match.
Many people liked to pay good money to see men fight for survival. The rich loved to be able to wave their cash to get anything they desired, even if they didn’t know exactly what it was they wanted.
The more depraved, the more money.
Aurora’s hand on my arm got even tighter as she saw the ring down below.
The basement of this fight was set out as if we were in a great opera. The space was decent, the crowd going wild.
Everything was safe. No risk of the building caving in on us.
“This is … oh, my God, gross,” Aurora said. She released my arm to grip the railing. The man beside her looked at her, pissed as if she’d ruined it for him. I glared at him. Everyone knew who I was, and Aurora would be protected. “This is all real?” She glanced around the room, and as she took it all in, the frown across her brow deepened.
