Page 13 of Brutal Monster (Zhukov Bratva #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

VANYA

I pour the Bordeaux into her glass, watching as she leans back in her chair. The patio railing frames the ocean beyond – a vast darkness punctuated by moonlight on water. A perfect backdrop for plotting murder.

"Your stepbrother," I say, keeping my voice low despite our privacy, "believes he’s untouchable."

Inez's lips curve around the rim of her glass. "Emilio has always overestimated his intelligence."

The breeze carries the salt scent of the ocean, mingling with her perfume – something expensive and subtle. I reach beneath the table, finding her ankle, and lift her legs onto my lap. She raises an eyebrow but doesn't resist.

"Tell me what he did." My thumb traces circles on her ankle bone.

"Besides attempting to undermine my authority at every turn?" She takes another sip. "Last week, he diverted shipment without authorization. Cost us three million and alerted federal attention."

My hand slides higher, caressing her calf through the silk of her pants. "Careless. Or deliberate."

"Deliberate," she says, her voice hardening. "Emilio wants me to look weak."

The waiter approaches. We pause. He clears our plates, refills our glasses, and disappears.

"Your father's empire," I say, "requires... a steady hand."

Inez leans forward, her eyes catching the candlelight. "I'm thinking something public. A message."

My fingers tighten involuntarily on her leg. "Not too public. A warning that looks like an accident."

"His car," she suggests, "has those fancy new automated systems."

"Hackable," I nod, feeling heat build in my blood. "A tragic malfunction on mountain roads."

Her pupils dilate slightly. She shifts her legs in my lap, and I know she feels my growing arousal.

"What about his gambling habit?" I ask, running my hand higher up her thigh.

"Perfect leverage point," she whispers, her breath catching. "We could orchestrate a debt Emilio can't repay. Force him to make mistakes."

I trace the inside seam of her pants. "Then offer to help?"

"Only to lead him deeper," she continues, voice husky now. "Until he's compromised beyond salvation."

The wine forgotten, I watch her eyes darken with the same hunger I feel. Planning death together – this is our foreplay.

"When he's desperate enough," I say, "he'll attempt to move product through the eastern corridor."

"Where your men will be waiting." She shifts again, pressing against my hand.

"Not to kill," I clarify, "but to ensure his capture. Prison is a slower death for a man like him."

Her smile is lethal. "And I'll be there to visit, to remind my stepbrother exactly who put him there. Although I’m not opposed to public decapitation. It sends a message. If I can kill my stepbrother, then I won’t shy away from annihilating my enemies."

I grip her thigh hard enough to bruise. "You're magnificent when you're ruthless."

"Take me inside," she commands, swinging her legs off my lap and standing in one fluid motion. "I want to hear the rest of your plan somewhere more... private."

The dinner remains unfinished behind us. We have more primal appetites to satisfy now.

I scoop her into my arms in one fluid motion. Her weight against my chest ignites something primal within me. The west wing corridor stretches before us, dark and silent.

"Your men will see," she whispers against my neck, but there's no resistance in her body.

"Let them. You’re about to be my wife. This is perfectly natural and expected."

My shoulder pushes open our bedroom door. Inside, moonlight spills across the vast expanse of our bed. I set Inez down only long enough to lock the door behind us.

When I turn back, she's watching me with that calculating gaze that first drew me to her—a predator recognizing another of her kind.

I cross the room in three strides. The silk of her dress feels like water beneath my hands as I pull it upward. She raises her arms, allowing me to strip it away. Her body emerges—all golden skin and deadly curves.

Her black lace panties are an unnecessary barrier. I hook my fingers beneath the delicate fabric and tear them away with a satisfying rip. She gasps, her eyes widening with desire.

The delicate scrap of lace is still warm from her body, as if it retains the heat of her presence. I bring it to my face, inhaling deeply, allowing her intoxicating scent to envelop and flood my senses like a familiar embrace.

"You still smell like mine," I growl, my voice low and possessive, as I watch her pupils widen in response, capturing the moment with an intensity that mirrors my own.

Gently, I guide her backward until she's perched on the very edge of our bed, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her lips slightly parted as if anticipating what's to come. I lower myself to my knees before her, not in submisson but conquest, ready to claim what is undeniably ours.

I carefully drape her legs over my shoulders.

Her skin feels like a fiery brand against mine, radiating warmth and intensity.

I press my mouth against her fervent core, savoring the intoxicating taste of her arousal.

Her fingers weave through my hair, nails lightly grazing my scalp with a pleasurable scratch.

I skillfully work my tongue against her, feeling the firm tension of her thighs encircle my head.

Each deliberate stroke is crafted to build her pleasure gradually and profoundly.

Her body reacts instantly, like a well-known instrument I've mastered over time, responding to my touch with precision and familiarity.

"Vanya," she moans, the sound of my name on her lips is more intoxicating than any vodka.

I grip her hips firmly, anchoring her in place as she tries to squirm away from the overwhelming intensity. There's no escape from this wave of pleasure I'm determined to unleash upon her. I'll make her unravel completely before she gets what she truly desires.

Her taste is intoxicating—a tantalizing blend of salt, sweetness, and something uniquely hers, a flavor that lingers on my tongue. I glide one hand upward, tracing the curve of her stomach until it reaches her breast, where I feel her nipple stiffen against my palm.

"Please," she whispers, her voice so soft it's almost swallowed by the air around us.

I rise slowly, my fingers deftly unbuttoning my shirt one by one.

Inez's eyes lock onto me, tracking each movement with a hunger that is fierce and impatient.

In her gaze, there is an unspoken demand.

This is why we work so well together—two alphas who recognize and respect the power within each other.

I gently but firmly push her farther onto the bed, my body following hers in a seamless motion. The room is filled with a charged anticipation, the air thick with the promise of what is to come. Tomorrow, our enemies will fall like dominoes, one by one. But tonight, Inez is mine to conquer.