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Avros moans and arches into my grasp. The feeling of his hard body against mine sends a shiver of anticipation through me. I draw him between my legs, still wet from his claiming on the balcony.
“You make me so hard. Driving me crazy, always around, so beautiful and so tempting,” Avros growls, his hands gripping my hips possessively. “I’ve never wanted to fuck as often as I want to fuck you.”
“Then fuck me, Avros. Because I want you to and it drives me crazy,” I murmur, my grip on his cock tightening as he hardens further. "And I want you again."
With a groan, Avros throws me down onto the bed and blankets my body with his. His kisses are slow, deep, like he's trying to memorize the taste of me.
I lose myself in the sensations as Avros worships my body with his hands, drawing out my pleasure until I'm a quivering mess beneath him. When he finally slides into me, it feels like coming home.
Our second round of lovemaking is tender yet intense, each thrust deep and intense. He says with his body what he can't with his words, his eyes never leaving mine as he moves inside me, so deep he's all I can feel.
"You're everything to me, Sydney," Avros murmurs, his voice rough with passion. "Everything. I'll never let you go."
His words push me over the edge, and I come with a soft cry of his name. Avros follows soon after, burying his face in my neck as he finds his release, murmuring sweet nothings in Russian.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, my head on Avros's chest as he strokes my hair. The steady beat of his heart under my ear is soothing, and I feel myself drifting off.
Just before sleep claims me, I hear Avros whisper, "Ya lyublyu tebya, moya Sydney. Forever."
I don't know what all the words mean, but I understand the sentiment. With a contented sigh, I snuggle closer, letting the warmth of Avros's embrace and the depth of his loyalty carry me into dreams.
16
Avros
The weight of guilt sits heavy on my chest as I pace the length of my study. Sydney's face when she told me about Lance's death haunts me. Her grief, her confusion, the pain in those captivating green eyes. I've seen that look before, on the faces of countless others who've lost loved ones to the violence of my world. But never has it cut so deep.
I pour myself a generous measure of vodka, downing it in one burning gulp. The alcohol does little to numb the turmoil in my mind. What have I become? When did the lines between right and wrong blur so completely?
My eyes land on the burner phone hidden in my desk drawer. Before I can talk myself out of it, I retrieve it and dial the number I know by heart. It rings three times before a familiar voice answers.
"Brother? Is everything alright?"
Miron's concern is evident even through the tinny connection. I rarely call him on his smuggled burner phone, knowing that each call is a risk. I close my eyes, leaning back in my chair.
"No, Miron. Everything is far from alright."
There's a pause, then, "What's happened? Is it the trial? Did something go wrong with?—"
"It's not about the trial," I cut him off, pinching the bridge of my nose. "It's... it's Sydney."
"Sydney?" I can hear the confusion in Miron's voice. "Your new assistant? The one you've been..." He trails off, but I can fill in the blanks.
"Yes," I say simply. "Her."
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Miron, I've messed up. Badly."
Over the next few minutes, I lay it all out for my brother. Sydney and I being intimate, not just once or twice, but several times. The growing connection between us, deeper and more intense than anything I've ever experienced. And then Lance, the hit I ordered, the devastating realization that he was Sydney's cousin.
Miron listens in silence, letting me get it all out. When I finally finish, the silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken judgment.
"Blyat," Miron mutters finally. "You really have fucked up, haven't you?"
I let out a humorless laugh. "That's putting it mildly."
"Does she know?" Miron asks. "About Lance, I mean."
"No," I admit, the guilt twisting in my gut. "Not yet. I don't know how to tell her, Miron. She'll hate me. She'll leave, and I don’t know what I’ll do."
