Page 102 of Hunt Me

When I ignored his command, he smacked his fingers across my pussy lips. The pain was different than when he’d spanked me, sharp yet pushing me closer to pure ecstasy.

I raised my arms over my head, blinking several times. The look on his face was dark, so carnal. There was a strange sense of knowing, the chemistry we shared years in the making.

He buried his face in my pussy, and my body immediately reacted. Within seconds, a climax rushed through me, the jolt of current screaming through my skin.

As I started to come down from the high, I lost all sense of obedience, lowering my arms and shifting onto my side.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t possible.

Yet here I was.

When he jerked me back to center, a huge grin on his face, my gasp amused him. The throbbing in my core accelerated.

“What are you doing?”

“Feasting.”

CHAPTER 25

Mikhail

The realization that Bristol had been the little girl whose life I’d saved at the risk of my own and that of my father’s men continued to weigh heavily on my mind.

I’d gone to the park as a boy eager to prove his worth in a violent kingdom full of honorable men willing to die for their master.

I’d returned a scarred man, all innocence lost. Even the good deed performed in the darkness of battle couldn’t salvage my soul. I was no good for an angel.

While I’d passed my initiation all those years go, finally recognized in the world of the Bratva and in my father’s eyes, the incident had taken a significant toll. Given the circumstances, we’d never learned the circumstances behind what had occurred the night of the attack. Whether or not the explosions had been set by the Irish, maybe luring traitors to their deaths, or whether another enemy had discovered the operation and had been lost in the explosions.

Names were never mentioned, never brought to light. Those we’d helped escape had rushed from the scene, terrified of what had occurred. There’d been a brief mention of the incident in the press, someone ensuring the horrific act of violence would be shoved under a rock.

It remained there today. Even Tristen O’Shaughnessy had never openly expressed his loss to anyone.

Except to my father and uncle in vapid threats.

How stupid we hadn’t put two and two together two decades before. The group of influential people O’Shaughnessy had on the take had kept watch on our world long before we’d realized it.

Now, those same people belonged to the Bratva.

Or did they?

Bristol’s father wasn’t innocent in all of this. That much I was certain of. What my beautiful angel didn’t understand was that she’d be used as a tool to determine his treachery.

Did that also make me a bad man?

Absolutely, but with a battle nearing, her services were necessary.

My thoughts continued to swirl around the events of the night I’d saved her, perhaps because fate had shifted the odds in our favor.

Or against us. That remained to be seen.

We’d left the amusement park only moments before the fire department and police had arrived. And the little girl hadbeen whisked from my arms by her father, the last thing I remembered before passing out.

The Bratva weren’t the kind of people to feel remorse or care about innocent victims. The situation had been deemed concluded. It had been a warning sent to O’Shaughnessy. At that point, we’d no longer cared about the details.

Yet the incident had plagued me.