Page 46 of Her Darkest Possession

"Make me yours," I demand, my voice raw with need. "Claim me so no other man can. So no other man would dare try."

"Yes," he growls, his hips snapping forward with renewed force. "Fuck, yes."

I squeeze his balls again, and feel them grow harder and tighter as his thrusts become erratic.

"Come for me, Tolya," I command. "Now."

He roars as he slams into me one final time, his entire body tensing as he empties himself inside me. I feel every pulse and every throb as he fills me completely.

We collapse forward, my hands bracing against the sink as we both pant heavily. His weight presses me down, but I welcome the solid reminder of his presence.

After a moment, he slowly pulls out, and I feel his cum immediately begin to leak from me, trailing down my inner thigh in warm rivulets.

His lips find my skin again. Soft, reverent kisses dot along my neck, my shoulder blades, and the curve of my spine.

When he finally reaches the crown of my head, he wraps his arms around me protectively and feathers his lips across my fevered brow, whispering.

"Welcome home."

13

INDIGO

The afternoon sunfilters through the windows of Svetlana's room, bathing the space in a warm golden light. I'm curled up on the sofa with Amara while Svetlana remains in her hospital bed.

All of us are trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy after everything that's happened. Amara fusses over the content of her application essay under her breath crossing out lines and here and there. Svetlana nods along, not sure how she might be able to help other than offering her presence.

For a little while, the three of us can pretend like we're regular people for a moment. Almost.

"Is an essay really even that important?" Svetlana asks Amara. "I always thought what these elitist colleges care about is how good you can make them look."

"Of course the essay matters," Amara insists, tapping her pen against the notebook. "How else would they know who I am beyond your grades and test scores?"

Svetlana makes a dismissive sound. "Rich kids with mediocre grades and a bag of cash get in because their parents donate buildings. Poor kids with perfect scores get rejected for not being 'well-rounded' enough. The system is rigged, Amara Malcolmovna. And like I said before, you should take advantage of the fact that your brother-in-law can rig it in your favor."

I can't help but smile at Svetlana using our father's name as Amara's patronymic. It sounds both foreign and familiar, like looking at yourself in a funhouse mirror.

"And likeIsaid before, Sveta," Amara concedes, "I still want to get accepted on my own merits. My sister did it. I can too."

"Your sister is one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. Never wanted to hear my advice even when it was freely offered." Svetlana rolls her eyes. "I really thought you might be different."

"Tough luck," Amara sticks out her tongue. "But tell you what. If I ever need help learning how to shoot someone, I'll come to you."

I gasp. "Amara!"

But Svetlana just laughs. "Deal, little cub. I'll make a killer out of you yet."

A soft knock interrupts our conversation. One of Anatoly's guards stands in the doorway, holding something behind his back.

"Indigo Malcolmovna," he says formally. "Something has arrived for you."

I glance at Svetlana, whose posture immediately stiffens. Nothing should be arriving for me. Nobody outside this house even knows I'm here.

"Did someone deliver it in person?" I ask, already rising from the sofa.

"No. It came by courier. We've checked it for explosives and powders. It's safe to open."

He holds out a cream-colored envelope. My stomach drops when I see the familiar handwriting on the front.