Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners) (2 page)

“You should know not
to ask for privileges,” he barked, his hard voice not matching his young
features.

The injured man started
mumbling again. His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest, while his
shoulders were hunched forward, his shaking having amplified. Andriena wondered
whether he was in shock, because, although it was cold in the room, it was
bearable. But then again, she’d grown accustomed to the temperature.

She returned her
attention to the guard, willing to risk punishment for the injured man. “Your
predecessor told me I now have privileges, which means I can’t be punished for
talking,” she bluffed. “I’ve also been told I must nurse this man. Therefore, I
need you to get him a blanket.”

“He doesn’t need a
blanket,” the guard replied. “All he needs is your body heat.”

Forcing herself not
to yell at the stingy bastard, she turned back to the injured man. “I need to
warm you up with my body. There won’t be anything sexual about it; it’s purely a
necessity. Will you give me permission to do so?”

He nodded, his teeth chattering
badly.

Feeling
self-conscious, she lay down on the bed and placed an arm over his body,
encouraging him to press up against her. Still shivering, he did as instructed,
laying his head against her breasts, almost making her pull away. But she
remained still, again, knowing it wasn’t sexual in nature.

“
Spasibo
,” he said.

After a few minutes,
his shivering started to subside, then it stopped completely, the man falling
asleep in her arms. Over the next few hours she lay awake, listening to him
mumble in his sleep. She wished she understood Russian, curious about what he
was saying. She assumed he’d worked for the Black Russian, since the previous
guard had called him a traitor. She wondered whether he’d been a guard too. Although
his face was too injured to tell whether he was attractive, his body was
incredible—muscular and perfectly proportioned. Maybe he’d tried to help
someone escape and had gotten caught red-handed. Unlike the cruel bastards who
guarded her, he probably had a conscience, one that wouldn’t allow him to
torture and torment his captives. It made her want to protect him from the
others, or at the very least to nurse him back to health, especially since she couldn’t
even protect herself. But that was because she’d grown used to being babied.
After she’d sustained a serious brain injury at the age of thirteen, people
started treating her like a simple-minded child who couldn’t do anything for
herself. Even after eighteen years, they still couldn’t resist babying her, making
her sometimes feel like she was thirteen rather than thirty-one.

She laid her arm over
the injured man again and closed her eyes, wondering what was to become of
them.

2

SASHA

His mother slipped an
arm around Sasha. “Snuggle up to me, baby boy,” she said, making him feel
protected, loved, happy.

He moved closer, leaning
his head against her shoulder, giggling as she gave him a little tickle under
his arm. He was kitted out in his Batman pajamas, which his nanny had given him
for his seventh birthday, while his mother was wearing a silk dressing-gown,
night-time having fallen hours ago.

She placed a soft kiss
on his head, murmuring, “I missed my snuggles with you, Sasha.” She’d returned earlier
that day with her new husband, who was sitting two seats away, watching their wedding
tape. On screen, his mother was pushing cake into his stepfather’s face,
laughing as she did it.

“You look beautiful,
Mama,” Sasha said, focusing on the screen. “Like Cinderella.” And she did. Her
tiara matched her sparkly white gown, while her blonde hair was piled high on
her head.

She gave him a gentle
squeeze. “You always say the nicest things, baby boy.”

“It’s true. You do
look like Cinderella.”

The scene cut to his
mother dancing with Sasha’s stepfather. The full skirt of her dress twirled
around her, again making her look like a Disney princess. She was so graceful...
unlike her husband. In contrast, he appeared awkward on the dance floor, his
bulky body barely keeping up with his wife’s dance moves. He was also brutish-looking,
with bushy eyebrows and an overly square-jaw. His mother had said he was an
important man in the Russian military, some sort of leader.

Sasha looked over at
him. He was now staring at Sasha’s mother with an annoyed expression. His dark
gaze moved to Sasha, making him hide his face behind his mother’s arm, his
stepfather scaring him. He hoped the marriage didn’t last long—like the
previous ones. Sasha had grown used to men coming and going from their
household, some not even bothering to say goodbye. They were there one day,
gone the next, as though Sasha had dreamed them.

His stepfather cleared
his throat. “Let’s call it a night, darling,” he said, moving his gaze back to
Sasha’s mother.

“No. I want to spend more
time with my children.” She placed a hand on Yuri’s blond head. Sasha’s four-year-old
brother was lying asleep on the other side of her, along with their three-year-old
sister.

“For Christ’s sake,
it’s almost midnight. Plus, Yuri and Anouska are already asleep.”

“Sasha’s awake.”

“And seven years old.
He shouldn’t be up so late. I’ll call for a nanny to put them to bed.” He grabbed
the phone off the side table.

“No!” Sasha’s mother
barked. “I’m spending time with Sasha now, so leave us be!”

His stepfather’s big
body jolted, his expression surprised, in contrast to Sasha, who didn’t even flinch,
his mother prone to severe mood swings.

“What do you want to
do next, baby boy?” she said, turning back to him.

Before Sasha could
reply, his stepfather was in front of them, yanking his mother away from Sasha.
He leaned his hard face down to hers. “You do
not
ignore me, woman. And when I say we’re going to bed,
we’re fucking going to bed.”

She laughed, making
him jerk his head back in surprise. “I love rough men,” she breathed out,
placing a hand on his massive chest. “It makes things so much more satisfying.”
Her full lips pulled up into a wicked grin. “Just let me say goodnight to Sasha,
then I’m all yours.”

He nodded and let go
of her arm, looking like he didn’t know how to take her reaction. Then a slow
smile formed across his face, his dark eyes twinkling with excitement.

Sasha’s mother bent
down and cupped Sasha’s chin. Placing her mouth next to his ear, she whispered,
“Do you remember the man game when you close your eyes and cover your ears?”

“Da
,
” he said, having played it once before.

“Let’s play it now.”

Nodding, he looked up at his
stepfather one last time, happy he’d gotten his wish. “Bye,” he said, covering
his ears. He closed his eyes next, knowing he wouldn’t be seeing the man again.

***

A male scream jolted Sasha
awake, ripping him out of his dream. He uncovered his ears and opened his less injured
eye, finding himself staring at large breasts. Disorientated and confused, he looked
up at a sleeping woman’s face, her features vaguely familiar. She had wavy
black hair, which was spread out over the mattress, the tangled array framing a
heart-shaped face. He had a vague memory of a woman with black hair helping him,
but had thought it was a dream. The time since the guards had beaten him had
been filled with blurred images and cruel words, intermingled with dreams of
his mother and the raven-haired female, giving him a reprieve from his
nightmares.

He adjusted himself
below, the woman having aroused his cock. She was wearing nothing but lingerie,
her lush curves provoking an unwanted reaction. He shifted away from her,
putting space between them. His master had forbidden him from having sex with
women, no matter how much he desired them. Guards were meant to be virginal—or
what the Black Russian called
untouched
. Their job was to protect their
master as well as giving him a beautiful picture to look at,
not
to have
lives of their own. And if they broke the rules, the consequences were severe.

Then why did he put
me with a woman?

And with one so
gorgeous.

She looked a few
years older than him—mid-twenties at a guess, her olive skin flawless. She was also
sweet-looking. He could almost call her cute if it wasn’t for her full, sexy
lips, and unnaturally long, black eyelashes. Maybe his master was testing him,
seeing if he’d give into temptation again. And when he did, the bastard would
punish him—like the last time. He forced down the memories of what he’d had to
endure, the punishment so barbaric he’d almost ended his life. He would’ve of done
it too if it hadn’t been for his brother. Yet, Yuri was the one who’d died, while
he lived on, clocking up a plethora of reasons to choose Hell over the one he
was living now.

The woman reached out
for Sasha in her sleep, mumbling in Italian. Her hand landed on his crotch. He
swatted it away, startling her awake. Her eyes went to his, making him freeze. They
were an intense blue, so beautiful that she could only be from one family.

The Donatelli—
a Sicilian crime family who’d tortured him before an ally had
come to his rescue.

Sasha shot off the
bed, horrified he’d taken comfort in the arms of an enemy. “You’re Donatelli,”
he spat, feeling nothing but disgust, her beauty meaningless now. Even though
the men had done the torture, the woman still had the same eyes, the intense
color haunting him.

“How do you know I’m a
Donatelli?” she asked with a thick Italian accent.

“You have devil eyes.”

She flinched, his
words obviously hurting her. “I’m no longer one of them after my uncle sold
me.”

Sasha’s mind went to
his mother, someone who’d sold him. He’d been twelve at the time when she’d put
him and his baby brother into a car, kissing them goodbye.

“Why are you sending
us away, Mama?” he’d asked. “Papa thinks we’re gone.”

She took his face
into her hands, a deep sadness filling her pale blue eyes. “It’s the only way
to keep you safe, baby boy.”

“Then, why aren’t you
coming with us?”

“I’m not allowed to
set foot in the place you’re going to.”

“When will I see you
again?”

“Soon.” She placed a
kiss on his forehead, letting it linger for a moment, one of her teardrops
splashing onto his face. Then she let go, shutting him and his brother in the
car, sending them to the Black Palace.

The Donatelli woman covered
her face, sounding like she was crying. He wondered whether her sale was
recent, because her pain looked raw. For a brief moment he felt sorry for her,
then pushed the feeling aside, the memories of what her family had done to him
and his brother wiping away any trace of sympathy. She also needed to toughen
up, like he had to when he’d discovered his mother had betrayed him.

“Tears won’t change a
thing,” he said. “It’s a weakness that the Black Russian will exploit. You must
dry your eyes if you want to survive in this hellhole.”

She uncovered her
face, her tears watering down the intensity of her eyes. “I don’t want to
survive, I want to die,” she said.

“I can do it for you.”

She frowned. “Do
what?”

“Kill you.”

She shot backwards,
falling over the side of the bed, her face filled with terror. “Why would you
say that?” she yelled, scrambling to her feet, the bed now separating them. “I
nursed you, yet you threaten me?”

He cocked his head to
the side, not understanding her reaction, especially since he’d only offered a
solution to her problem. “It wasn’t a threat. You said you wanted to die.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!”

“It sounded literal
to me.” His eyes moved to her breasts as they rose and fell rapidly, the
woman’s fear tangible.

“Stop staring at my
breasts!” She wrapped her arms around her chest, as though it could shield her
from his gaze. But he could still see the quiver of her flesh, which he
couldn’t deny was arousing him.

“You’re still staring!”
She indicated to his hard-on. “And keep that thing away from me. Also, don’t ever
mention killing me again or
I’ll
kill
you
.”

Sasha looked back up.
“It’s not my fault you said something you didn’t mean. I took you for your word
and offered you a means of escape, but if you truly want to live just say so
and I won’t harm you in any way.”

“I want to live.” She
indicated to his groin again. “And keep your cock under control.”

“I’m hard because I need
to relieve myself,” he said, which was a half-truth, because he did need to go.
He scanned the room, spotting a bucket in the far corner, which he knew was a
makeshift toilet. He went to it, ignoring the aches and pains in his body, even
though it was difficult, because he felt like he was bleeding from the inside
out. The guards—his so-called friends, had beaten him to the ground, kicking him
until he’d coughed up blood. But then again, if they’d gone light on him, they
would’ve been beaten too.

Facing away from the
woman, he slipped his cock out and quickly relieved himself, tucking it back in
once done. “I’m guessing there’s nothing to wash my hands with,” he said,
turning around.

She pointed to a
bottle on the table. “You can use a bit of that.”

“Is it drinking water?”

She nodded.

“Then, I’ll need you
to tip some onto my hands so I don’t dirty the bottle.”

“I’m not going anywhere
near you after you threatened my life.”

“I already told you it
was a misunderstanding, so stop being irrational.”

“I’m not being
irrational!” she shouted, looking hysterical. “Normal people don’t offer to
kill other people.” Her anger instantly dissolved, a remorseful expression
replacing it. “Actually, what do I know of normal? I’m mafia.
I’m
not
normal.” She started massaging her forehead. “And you’re right, I was being
irrational, but in my defense, I’m not usually like this. I’ve got a nasty migraine
that won’t go away.” Exhaling, she dropped her hands. “Anyway, why were you
beaten up?”

“I defied my master.”

“Were you a guard?
Because you look like one.”

“I was, but how do I
look like one?” He touched his swollen cheek, which was rounded instead of
hollowed. “My face is a bloody mess.”

“I’m sure once it
heals you’ll look beautiful like them, plus you have a perfect body.” Her gaze
wandered down it.

He grimaced, not
appreciating her double-standards. “You’re a hypocrite.”

She jerked her head
back up. “Why?”

“You complained about
me staring at your body, then you go stare at mine.”

“I did
not
stare
at your body,” she said, sounding offended. “Anyone can see it’s perfect. And
you took my words the wrong way. I was just explaining why you reminded me of
the guards.”

“Then, why did I wake
up with you hugging me and my head against your breasts? You also touched my
cock. Did you take advantage of me while I was unconscious?”

“No!” She crossed her
arms over her chest again, her indignant demeanor suggesting she wasn’t lying.
“I had to use my body to warm you up because the guard
refused to give
me a blanket. And I asked for your permission.”

He searched his mind,
trying to remember, but couldn’t. Though, he’d probably been in shock at the time,
so he could’ve said yes without realizing it.