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And now she’s about to walk into someone else’s bed.
I wait behind her as she knocks on the door. I half expect some member of the household staff to answer, but instead, it’s Matvei himself, wearing suit trousers and a light-grey button-down, his short blond hair combed back and his jaw freshly shaved. He doesn’t even look at me, his gaze raking over her with a greedy possessiveness that makes my fists clench with unearned jealousy.
“Asha.” He opens the door wider. “Come in.”
The command in his voice is clear; it’s not an invitation. I see Asha stiffen, her spine straightening, but she steps inside, and he nearly closes the door in my face before I put out a hand to stop it, my gaze meeting his.
“And who are you?” There’s a deceptive pleasantness in his tone. I don’t forget for a moment that he undoubtedly has guards of his own here, men who wouldn’t hesitate to kill on his order. For Asha’s safety and mine, I can’t allow my own feelings to dictate how this goes.
“Asha’s bodyguard.” I offer him a tight-lipped smile. “While I don’t expect to be watching the proceedings, I do need to be close enough to hear her if she calls for me.”
“She won’t be in need of you.” Matvei goes to close the door, but I hold my hand firm on it, not backing down.
“I’m paid to do a job.” I keep my voice even. “You wouldn’t begrudge a man wanting to keep that job, would you?”
“Let him in, Matvei.” Asha’s tone is cool. “What you want from me doesn’t start until we’re in the bedroom—or wherever it is you’re wanting my services tonight. I told you I was bringing security with me. If you don’t let him in and within shouting distance, I’ll assume you’ve changed your mind, and I’ll go.”
I shouldn’t want him to push the point, to force her hand so that she walks out. He clearly wants her, and badly—I can see it in his hesitation, the way I can see in his face that he’s considering giving in to her demand, even though I feel very certain that he’s not a man who gives easily or at all. That desire will help Asha do the job I’ve sent her to do, will help theKingsin the very business that we’re on here—yet I find myself wanting to take her and leave, so this man never gets to touch her again.
“Fine,” Matvei bites out. “Come in.”
He steps back, closing the door behind me as I step into the foyer of the house. It’s decorated inside with dark blues and greys and creams, heavy dark wood and iron fixtures, a house with a stern and forbidding feel to it. Matvei doesn’t look at me again as he reaches for Asha’s elbow, leading her out of the foyer and down the hall.
“You’ll stay here,” Matvei barks out as we walk up a curving staircase and down a long, wide hallway with doors on either side, flat leather-topped benches against either side of the wall, and double doors at the far end. “Asha and I will be in that room at the end.” He motions to it. “I assure you, you’ll have nothing to do but sit here and listen to the sounds she makes.”
A cruel smile curves his lips, and I feel my jaw tighten. Asha’s face is utterly impassive, as if she’s clicked off some part of her. She turns away from me with barely a glance, her hand limp at her side where Matvei is still holding onto her elbow.
“Let’s go,” she says simply, and he leads her down to those double doors, neither of them looking back as I sink onto the leather-padded bench, my gut twisted in knots.
I hear very little for a long time, only low voices. And then, when enough time has passed, I start to wonder what they’re doing in there—the sounds that I don’t want to hear.
A masculine groan, Matvei’s low voice, a feminine cry that I know must be Asha’s. The impact of something against flesh. Her soft, pleading moan, and I know her well enough now toknowit’s not real, to know that she’s playing the game, making him believe that she wants what he’s doing to her—but that doesn’t help the way I thought it would. It doesn’t matter that she’s not feeling actual pleasure—hell, maybe that’s worse. I can’t think straight enough to parse out whether I’d rather she actually be enjoying it, when just the fact that she’s in there at all is making me see red.
My hands press against my legs, fingers digging into the sides as I clench my jaw. I’d thought I could do this, that I could separate my feelings for her from the job we’re here to do, butfuckif I don’t want to go in there, press a gun to his head and pull the trigger just for him having put his hands on her at all. I don’t want him fucking touching her. I don’t wantanyonetouching her that isn’t me.
And I don’t have any right to feel that way.
He’s being loud on purpose, I fucking know it. Making sure I have to hear every grunt, every impact of skin on skin, so I know exactly what he’s doing—his thickly accented voice telling her what to do with his cock, so I’m forced to know when she has her lips wrapped around it, when he’s sliding his fingers into her, when he’s fucking her. It’s bad enough that I get up and start pacing the hall just to have something to keep me moving, because if I sit there for much longer, Iwillfuck this up.
There’s no way that I could have known I’d want her like this—but I should have found another way once I realized that I did. That’s crystal fucking clear to me now, but it’s too late. So I pace and sit, pace and sit, wondering how goddamn long this man is going to take to finish up—but of course, he’s going to wring every second that he’s paid for out of her.
Asha is, of course, a professional. I have my eyes fixed on my watch, waiting for the moment when I know she’s supposed to be done—right on the dot, the door opens, and she steps out with Matvei behind her.
The look on her face is so blank that it tears at my heart. I can tell that whatever happened in there, it was more than her just zoning out and thinking of something else while Matvei fucked her. She had to be present enough to play the game of whatever fucked-up power exchange he wanted, and she more than just didn’t prefer it. I can see from the way she looks past me that she hated every second of it.
It feels like I asked her to do something wrong. Like I’m a party to whatever he did to her that made her feel like this, and I grit my teeth as I stride down the hall to her, taking her elbow gently and steering her away from Matvei.
“Next week then,devochka,” Matvei says carelessly, crossing his arms as he stands there and watches us go. “I already have ideas.”
“Same day and time.” Asha’s voice is pleasant, smooth—almost robotic. “Goodnight, Mr. Kotov.”
Matvei smirks. “Surely you can call me Matvei,devochka? After all, you still have my cum inside of you,krasivaya devushka.”
My steps hitch, and for a moment, I see red. I canseemyself drawing my gun, spinning in one fluid motion, and painting the wall behind him with his brains, andChrist,I want to fucking do it. I wonder if I can tell Theo and Nikolai that if Matvei has to die, I want to be the one to pull the trigger.
Asha gives him a bland smile. “I prefer to keep things professional outside of the bedroom, Mr. Kotov. Goodnight.”
He says nothing, only keeps that knowing smirk on his face for the one moment that he’s still in view, before I walk with Asha down the hall and out to the front door.
