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Uncle Kristian is always there, helping me, driving me to meetings, backing me up when I need it. Since Yuri’s birthday party, men in the Bratva are becoming less likely to automatically start talking to my uncle and ignoring me. I don’t attend meetings with Uncle Kristian. He comes along with me.
Officially, no one knows who murdered Yuri and blinded Jozef, but there’s a rumor going around that Yuri told Jozef to assault me to make me the laughingstock of the city, and Uncle Kristian violently thwarted them. I’m pretty sure I know who started that rumor, and it’s had the benefit of fewer men looking at me like I’m meat.
I’m doing so well at not lusting after my uncle as well, until a week after we had sex, I slip.
And Uncle Kristian is there to catch me.
We’re at the Silo late at night sorting through a shipment of counterfeit twenty-dollar bills that’s been hidden among bags of pet food. Uncle Kristian tears open a box, and he’s showered with dust and fragments of cardboard.
“Ah, fuck,” he mutters, brushing dust from his designer black shirt and drawing my attention to his body. Not on purpose, I’ll admit. There’s nothing sexy about getting dusty, but my body apparently doesn’t agree because suddenly I’m biting my lower lip and drinking in his every movement. The long, muscular lines of his body. His hand on his chest where I wished my hands were right that moment.
Uncle Kristian chooses that moment to look up and catch me staring at him. His eyes sharpen and his nostrils flare. He wipes his hands on the seat of his pants and prowls toward me, intent on my lips.
“We should probably…” I begin, backing up because the hungry expression in his eyes is making my stomach flip. He’s gone from zero to a thousand in a split second.
He grabs me and slams his mouth over mine, parting my lips with his tongue and sweeping it into my mouth. I moan as he keeps devouring me, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pulling my hips against him. I can feel his rapidly hardening cock against my stomach and my core lights up with desire.Uncle Kristian wants to fuck you. Let Uncle Kristian do whatever he wants because it will be so, so good.
“I need you now or I’m going to lose my goddamn mind,” he growls, sliding his hand down my ass and pushing it between my thighs to rub my sex.
I melt in his grip, no longer in control of my own body. Instead, I’m wrapping my arms around him as he lifts me onto a box and pulls my underwear aside. One swipe of his fingers across my sex shows him how wet I am.
I’ve been soaked for hours and denying it to myself the entire time.
Everything starts moving so fast, and I’m swept up in the electric feeling I get whenever he touches me. There’s the clank of his belt and the sound of his zipper. I feel the thick head of his cock bump against me, and then he thrusts into me, swift and deep. I cry out and clutch his shoulders. Uncle Kristian’s ferocious expression is just inches from mine as he works himself deeper with every stroke, making my tight channel surrender to him. He’s kissing me the whole time, hungry, open-mouth kisses, his tongue pushing into me at the same pace as his cock.
When I’m whimpering his name, he slows down long enough to get his fingers between us and on my clit, rubbing me so that pleasure blazes through me, and I come harder than I ever have in my life.
Uncle Kristian pulls out of me, turns me roughly around so I’m bent over the boxes with my legs splayed, and thrusts into me again.
Then he’s drilling into me with his cock with single-minded determination. “This is where I belong. Right here. Deep inside you. My cock. My cum.”
To prove his point, he climaxes with a growl, and drives his cock even deeper as he breathes raggedly to catch his breath.
When I try to stand up, he grabs my hair in his fist and holds me in place. “Stay where you are.”
“Let me up.”
“Not yet.”
He’s doing it again. Trying to get me pregnant. I run my tongue over my top lip as a swift pang of heat goes through me.
Uncle Kristian laughs softly as he feels me clench around him. “You’re a little slut for me trying to knock you up. What a good girl.”
He holds me in place for several minutes, occasionally thrusting, before finally drawing out of me and stepping back.
I push myself up and settle my underwear and hair back in place, still feeling dazed by what just happened.
“Take your vitamins. Eat some whole grains,” he tells me, tucking himself back into his pants.
What the hell is this man doing? Giving me pre-pregnancy advice?
He kisses me once more and pats my cheek. “And keep being my horny little angel.”
Then he goes back to work like nothing happened.
I stare at him and shake my head. Unbelievable.
A few days before Lana’s party, he’s driving me home from a meeting close to nine in the evening, and the tension in the car is thick around us. He’s been touching me all day. His hand on the small of my back as he opens doors for me. Tucking my hair behind my ear as we talk. Handing me my coffee with his fingers brushing mine. Every single touch has my insides lighting up with desire.
