Page 2 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

The elevator dings; the doors part and we step into his world.

“Here we are,” he says.

“Straight into the lion’s den?” I quip.

He lets out a low chuckle and lays a hand on the small of my back, guiding me out with a gentle, proprietary pressure. It’s absurd—I've known him for twenty minutes and his touch already has a direct line to my spine. A slow shiver works its way down me, hot and stupid and completely unhelpful.

The apartment is ridiculous in all the right ways: wide-open, glass walls drinking up the city’s lights, marble and shadow and the kind of furniture that doesn’t ask questions.

Who the hell is this man?

“Come.”

Seeming to sense how stunned I am, he takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. It’s a sleek expanse of granite and stainless steel. He pulls out a chair from the kitchen island bar and gestures for me to sit. I do.

“This is quite a place.”

He chuckles as he takes a glass from one of the cupboards and fills it up at the sink.

“Let’s just say I’ve got plenty of family in town, so it’s nice to have a little refuge from all the insanity of that.”

As he fills the glass, I notice more hints of tattoos peeking out from under his collar and the sleeves of his shirt. Pieces are starting to come together in my head.

He turns, and I yank my gaze from his tattoos. But the smirk on his face suggests he can tell I’ve seen them.

“Here. Drink this.”

He hands me the glass and I take it. The water hits just right, perfectly cool. I feel the last traces of booze fade away, replaced by a mental clarity, my nerves settling, my energy restored.

And all I can think about is how much I want this man.

What the fuck has gotten into me?

Moments ago, survival was all I wanted.

Now my body’s betraying me, choosing the reason I ran in the first place—freedom.

Pleasure. Fire I can’t cage.

I throw back the last of the water, letting it continue to restore me.

He leans against the counter, watching me with a strange intensity.

“Better?”

“Yeah, better.”

He offers his hand from across the island.

“Alexei.”

“Isabella. But everyone calls me Isa.”

I take his hand and shake it.

No last names. That’s fine with me. Last thing I want this guy to know is that I’m a member of the Mancini family.

Instincts tell me that name would have meaning to Alexei.

His touch is warm, irresistible.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

He laughs, slipping his hand away from mine.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I try to keep things interesting.”

“I can tell.”

A charged pause hangs in the air.

“So,” he says, quickly filling the silence. “Out alone tonight, avoiding the attention of strange men?”

I purse my lips. “I was with my friends, but they ended up all getting too drunk and obnoxious. I love them to death, but I can only take so many woos right into my ear. Not to mention that the guys you beat up seemed like standard fare at that club.”

I clear my throat. “And what about you? Cruising the streets, looking for women to snatch from the clutches of danger?”

He grins, leaning on the counter. The top two buttons of his shirt are open, and I can see that his chest is also covered in ink.

“Nothing so dramatic. I’d popped into Gray for a quick drink, and noticed right away how that man was looking at you. When he followed you out of the club, I had a good idea what was going to go down.”

This gets an eyebrow raise out of me.

“That implies that you were looking at me,” I say.

He laughs. “Guilty as charged, I suppose. What can I say? You’re hard to ignore.”

I lean forward. “I guess in that way, everything balances out in the end. I attract the creeps, and then I attract the guys to beat them up. And then I end up in a penthouse apartment.”

“That’s certainly one way to look at it, Devotchka .”

God, there’s something about this man that’s pulling me toward him like a compulsion.

I need something to break the spell. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of the piano in the living room.

“Is that thing for show, or do you actually play?”

“A bit. Just enough to impress when I have to.”

“Bold claim. Care to impress me, then?”

His eyes flash, as if I’ve just given him a challenge that he can’t resist.

“Only if you promise not to laugh at my amateur skills.”

I wink. “I make no promises.”

With that, he comes around the counter and offers me his hand. I can’t help but take it. He leads me over to the piano and slides onto the bench.

“Come.” He gestures to the spot next to him. For a moment, I think about whether this is a good idea.

Screw it.

I sit down, accidentally brushing against him. The touch causes my breath to hitch, my pussy to clench.

God, this man is dangerous—in more ways than one.

“Alright,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “Let me think. Something calming, maybe. Nice and mellow.”

“Mellow sounds good.”

Alexei positions his hands over the keys, closes his eyes, and begins.

The music is beautiful, flawless right from the get-go. The melody is soft, haunting, wrapping around me like a quilt. And the way his fingers move…it’s the same grace and fluidity I saw during the fight, but in a different context.

He finishes the song, bringing it to a close with a gentle chord. When it’s done, he turns to me.

“There. Was that impressive enough?” He winks.

I can’t resist this man any longer. I don’t care that I barely know him, that he’s likely got more secrets in his head than tattoos on his skin.

“It was. But I hope you’re not done trying to impress me.”

The flash in his eyes makes it clear he knows exactly what I’m getting at.

“I’ve only just begun.”

With that, he takes my face into his hands, moving in for a kiss.

His lips touch mine, and it’s just what I’ve been waiting for ever since I laid eyes on this man. I open my mouth, inviting him into me. His tongue finds mind, and I can still taste the whiskey on his breath from his drinks back at the club.

He pulls away slowly. As soon as his lips break from mine, I want him back.

“You think the piano’s nice, wait until you see the bedroom.”

My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. Thankfully, he doesn’t make me come up with something witty to say. Instead, he offers me his hand and leads me up the stairs to the bedroom,

which is every bit as fancy as the rest of his place: massive windows turning the city skyline into a work of art.

The door snaps shut and we're on each other again, shedding clothes and kissing hard.

His body's covered in tattoos, ink stretched over muscle built to destroy, every line begging to be touched.

He gently lowers me onto the bed, looming over me as I wear nothing but my bra and panties.

Predator above, prey below—but I’m the one aching to be devoured.

Then he’s all over me once more, his hands exploring my body, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples. The world outside might as well not exist—it’s just us and this bubble of ecstasy and fire.

I can feel the anticipation building up inside me.

Eager.

My heart is pounding, my skin is tingling, and my pussy is already wet with desire.

His eyes are glued to my chest. “Fuck, look at you,” he growls. “Perfect tits begging for my mouth.” And I can see that bulge getting bigger every second.

"Take me," I say. My voice sounds wrecked, desperate already. I spread my legs just a tad more—give him the full view. “See what you do to me?” I whisper, my clit throbbing under the thin lace.

His darken, and I can tell he's ready.

He grabs my ankles, pulls me to the edge until my ass is just off the bed.

That cool air hits me, and it’s obvious he’s seeing just how turned on I am.

"Damn," he groans. “So fucking wet. You want this cock, don’t you, devotchka?”

I moan as he plays me like that damn piano.

He slips his hand underneath my panties, spreading my lips and teasing my clit, the pleasure insane.

His thumb circles with ruthless precision, making me squirm. I arch back, pushing up my chest, and he’s on it, sucking at my nipple while still teasing below.

The heat’s building, pressure mounting inside me.

"Oh, God, Alexei," I moan. "Please, I need you inside me."

“Not yet,” he rasps against my skin. “I want to hear you scream first.”

He keeps at it, slipping a finger inside me, my walls gripping it tightly. “Tight little cunt,” he growls. His thumb stays on my clit, his finger moving in and out, in and out, until?—

“Oh, God!” I come hard, my hips bucking, my back arching.

My scream rips into the air, raw and obscene, his name tangled in every broken syllable.

One of his hands stays between my legs, the other under the cup of my bra.

“Now,” I say, the orgasm fading. “I need you inside me.”

With a hot look, he frees himself, and I lick my lips, so ready.

My eyes lock on his cock—thick, veined, the kind of monster you’d run from… if you didn’t crave being split in half.

He steps in close, the heat from his body radiating outward.

Nothing else matters.

My mind no longer functions, my body taking over. He looks down with those hungry eyes, and I know it’s about to go down.

He grabs me, and in one smooth motion, he fills me up completely.

I gasp, stretched and oh-so-full.

And just like that, I’m no longer a virgin. I squirm a bit. It hurts like hell, but not as much as I thought for a dick his size. After a few moments, the aching fades, replaced with incredible pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. “So tight. You’re fucking mine.”

All I can do is moan as he moves in me, deeper, harder. The slapping sound of skin on skin fills the room, and that building pressure is just about ready to explode.

His cock plunges in and out of me, splitting me in half in the most delicious way.

"God, Alexei," I gasp. "I’m so close. Please, don’t stop."

He grins, his eyes burning with a wild intensity. “Beg louder, Isa. I want the whole fucking city to hear you.”

"Alexei!" I cry out as the first wave crashes over me, my entire body trembling. He doesn't slow down, though; he keeps moving, pushing us both through the lingering aftershocks of my climax.

After a moment, he pulls back, flips me over without missing a beat.

His hands on my hips, he pulls me up to my hands and knees.

I push back against him, showing I'm more than ready.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Show me how bad you need it.”

He takes the hint and dives back in, the new angle changing everything.

The pleasure builds again, but it's different and deeper this time. His hands grip tighter, his thrusts deliberate.

"Alexei, I’m—I’m gonna?—"

"Yes, Isa, come all over my cock. Milk me, devotchka.”

The second orgasm rips through me, even more intense than the first.

As I'm shaking under him, Alexei gives one final, deep thrust.

I feel him tense up as he climaxes with me.

We peak together, completely in sync.

He collapses gently on top of me. Our hearts are racing together. He places his hand on my jaw, turning my face gently toward him.

He gazes down at me with those brilliant blue eyes, then brushes a stray strand of hair out of my face.

“Mine now,” he mutters.

A vow.

A warning.

A brand.