Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (9 page)

The ambient light from the city dimly illuminated her face as she opened the door to the rooftop, the chilly breeze making her hair flair about her. When she looked over at him with the balloon in her hand, he was struck dumb by her beauty, his breath literally taken away. He didn’t know if it was the lighting or the grief blanketing her, but he had a glimpse of the woman she would one day become. He reached out without thought and brushed a tear from her cheek, relishing the feel of her soft, damp skin.

“I do not think is silly.”

Her weak smile made him want to gather her into his arms, but instead, he led her a little farther out onto the roof. The night was cloudy, and the wind was brisk enough that it cut through his thick coat and gloves. Jessica didn’t seem to be bothered by it, but he didn’t know if that was because of the alcohol or her emotions. Reaching out, she grasped his hand and held it tight enough that it hurt, but he didn’t pull away. She could jerk his arm off if it would make her feel better, and he would gladly let her do it.

For a long moment, she stared up at the balloon whipping back and forth in the wind. Then slowly, with great reluctance, she raised her hand and let it go. Together, they watched the balloon rise into the sky, flying over the rooftops as it continued to climb until they lost sight of it. She shivered, and he drew her into his arms then gently pressed her head against his chest. He held her while she cried, her muffled sobs tearing through him.

His chest hurt, and he struggled to reign in his emotions, but she’d totally overwhelmed him. When she pulled back, her gaze fastened on his lips. “I’m so tired of hurting, Alex,” she whispered. “I don’t want to feel this terrible loss anymore. Kiss me and make it go away.”

A hard tremor went through him that had nothing to do with the cold. He was dying to kiss her, to take her hard, to bury himself in her and give her nothing but pleasure, which was exactly the reason he could not indulge in any type of physical intimacy with her. One kiss and there would be no going back. Plus, she was drunk and grieving right now. She had no idea what she was asking for.

He gently pulled out of her arms and set her away from him. “I can think of another way to distract you.”

She gave him a puzzled look, her eyes glassy from the alcohol and her tears. “And what would that be?”

“Do you play chess?”

Jessica blinked up at him like an adorable owl, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her stunned expression. “I offer sex and you want to play chess?”

“You did not offer sex, because you are drunk.
Nyet, prinsessa moya
. Now if you make the same offer tomorrow when you are sober...”

“What did you just say?”

“
Nyet
means no.”

“And the other part?”

Not ready to explain why he called her his princess, he tried to distract her. “Are you trying to…what is the phrase…back out? To not play because you are scared? Is okay, I understand. You do not want embarrassment of losing.”

She glared at him. If she’d been a cat, her fur would have been standing up. Then her expression cleared, and the first hint of the vibrant young woman he’d come to know peeking through her veil of mourning. “Tell you what. If I win at chess, I get an orgasm. If you win, I’ll owe you some future favor.”

Dirty images galore exploded in his thoughts as he imagined all the things he could request as a favor. The need to take her was so strong for a moment that he took a step closer to her then stopped. Goddamn it, his body wasn’t even remotely under his control anymore. The savage part of him kept rising to the surface, demanding he take her, make her his. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, this duality of caring for Jessica in the gentlest of ways combined with an almost psychotic need to destroy anything that threatened her in the most violent manner possible.

He was so fucked.

“Agreed.” He almost bit his tongue, intending to say he was going to bed, but somehow that word slipped out instead. “Do you have board?”

Fluttering her lashes at him, she motioned for him to follow her as she headed back to the stairs. “I may have one or two.”

When they were in her warm, inviting apartment, she led him into the cozy living room and flipped on the lights, revealing a new piece of pottery on the coffee table he hadn’t seen before. Little by little, Jessica was putting her stamp on the apartment, and he was glad she was making it her home instead of just a place to sleep. It was decorated with furniture similar to his place across the hall, and he realized Jessica probably didn’t have much of anything of her own here in Ireland. His gut tightened when he considered the fact that all of Jessica’s things were in the US because that’s where she lived.

He did not like the idea of her returning to the United States at all. His gaze cut over to another wall, his memory triggering that something new had been added over there as well. There were three new, framed photographs sitting on the shelves that flanked the big screen TV, and he wanted to go look at them, but Jessica motioned him to follow her in the opposite direction.

As soon as she turned on the dim brass lamp over the chessboard, he couldn’t help but smile. Then he wondered if the elaborate, detailed fantasy chessboard had come with the apartment or if it was one of Jessica’s personal possessions. The board featured an elfin maiden as the queen, and she reminded him of Jessica with her delicate beauty. For a moment, he was disgusted with himself for getting this soft over a woman, but she’d shared something deep with him tonight by allowing him to witness her ritual to deal with her family members’ deaths. It was a much healthier tradition than drinking into oblivion, which is how Alex and Dimitri coped with their losses. Then again, Jessica had been drinking heavily earlier in the night and was probably still pretty drunk right now.

She was a bit unsteady as she took her seat. Then she had to use the bathroom. Then she was thirsty and needed some water. Then she wanted a sandwich—and made him one as well—before they finally sat down to play. Her delay had allowed her time to sober up, and he wondered if that was a calculated move or if she was just drunk and hungry. She’d consumed a fair amount of strong alcohol, and he felt slightly guilty that he was playing with an inebriated woman for a favor, but all was fair in love and war.

His guilt lasted about three rounds until he realized he’d been suckered by a girl barely old enough to drink. Alex prided himself on being a methodical, ruthless chess player, impossible to ruffle, always cool and composed. After all, he’d learned to play chess from his father, and the head of the Novikov
Bratva
was famous for his brilliant strategies in chess and life. Yet, Alex found himself losing, badly, to a girl who was playing chess with one hand and eating chips out of a huge ceramic bowl with the other. Even worse, she seemed more interested in her food than the game, which meant beating him had been easy for her.

Alex’s distress might have been a bit obvious as he ran a hand through his hair repeatedly, staring at the board. Jessica was either crazy, or a genius. She’d managed to get him in checkmate without him even being aware of her plan. She was a ruthless player, sacrificing with abandon. She’d shut him down in a perfectly executed series of moves he’d been unable to predict. Normally, he’d be irritated—he wasn’t a good loser—but her glee at managing to trap him brought a smile to her face and light back to her eyes.

Her lips pressed together as she tried to hold back her laughter. “What? Did you think that just because I have tits and a pussy I couldn’t play chess?”

That was right along the lines of what he’d been thinking, much to his chagrin, and he gave her his warmest smile, adoring the way she blushed. In an impulsive moment, he decided to be honest with her. “You are brilliant. I have played many, many crafty players…but you…you take my breath away. So sweet, so pure, but such a dirty, cutthroat strategist. Brilliant.”

If he thought he’d seen her happy before, it was nothing compared to her smile right now. It positively stunned him, and he had to resist the urge to reach across the table and pull her to him for a kiss. “Thanks. My dad taught me how to play as well. He may have been a farmer, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smart. My mom used to say that he could have been anything he wanted, a doctor, a lawyer, President of the United States, but instead, he’d chosen to be happy.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and tears filled her eyes. The pain that radiated from her felt like his own, but he had no idea how to ease her. It sounded callous, cruel even, but he never really cared about a woman’s emotions enough to offer her comfort. Oh, he’d soothed female friends when they were hurt or troubled, but this was different. More personal somehow.

“Every summer when blueberry season rolled around, he’d take us out to this huge, old patch that lined our road for miles. Sweetest berries ever if you could get them before the birds did. He told me one day when I was younger and my mom and some friends were with us picking berries, that he was the happiest man in the world, and it was all because of ‘his girls’.” She stopped eating and sighed. “It made me proud to know that. To know that my mom and I were so special to him that we made him the happiest man in the world. I can still remember that moment perfectly. Shit…I…shit...gimme a sec’, okay?”

“Of course.”

As he watched Jessica fight back her tears, his need to make her his grew. He wanted to protect her and fill her life with nothing but happiness, to keep the bright light of her spirit burning, undimmed by sorrow. She deserved to know nothing but happiness, to have a man who would worship her and treat her like the princess she was. If she was his woman, he would do just that, and he knew his life with her would be bliss. The mental image of waking up every morning to see her glorious hair spread over his pillow, to see those beautiful blue eyes warmed with love felt so right that the temptation of keeping her sank deep into his soul and settled there.

But his world wasn’t ready for her yet, so he would have to keep his distance until he could rectify certain delicate situations.

She must have sensed his shift in mood because she dashed a tear off her cheek and forced a smile. “You’re awfully quiet. Are you butt hurt about losing to a girl?”

What she said was so absurd, so
not
what he was thinking, that he couldn’t help but laugh. “I assure you, my pride, and ass, are intact.”

Something shifted in her gaze as they grinned at each other, a spark of heat that made her pupils dilate. Her gaze was on his mouth, and she bit her lower lip. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about kissing him, or him kissing her…in more intimate places. The thought of tasting her
pizda
made his mouth water, and his cock pressed against his pants in an uncomfortable manner. She’d caused him to become achingly hard at just the thought of what she would look like when she was coming on his tongue.

She slowly stood from her chair, her hair falling around her like silk. He watched her gather her courage, her shoulders squaring and a determined, possibly dangerous look heating her gaze. He should leave, but he remained where he was, spellbound by the gentle creature approaching him. Without a doubt, for all of her sexual aggression, she was skittish. Her gaze darted about before finally settling somewhere in the region of his lips. A gentle rain had begun to fall outside, and he found it to be the perfect backdrop for his Jessica.

She was a daughter of Ireland, and he admired her pale, perfect beauty that housed such a strong spirit.

After swallowing hard and unclenching her fists, she tentatively reached out and placed her faintly trembling fingertip against his lips. “I want these.” She ran the tips of her fingers over her mouth. “Here. Please.”

Raw, carnal need blasted through him, but he tried to keep it in check. He wanted to devour her. Instead, he kissed the tip of her finger, tasting the salt on her skin, to give her one last chance to run. Still sitting, he looked up at her, now inundated by the faint smell of her musky, aroused sex. He’d never endured such torture as he maintained his calm with a perfect bounty waiting for his touch. Too bad he had to be strong for both their sakes.

“Jessica, this is not good idea. I do not want to harm friendship.”

“Please, Alex. I need to feel alive. Be my friend…kiss me.”

His control deserted him, and without thought, he gripped her hips and nuzzled his face against her flat belly. She smelled so good, and when he lifted her top with his nose so he could kiss her hip, she shivered against him. Soft, so very, very soft. The way she responded to his touch was intoxicating. Vast amounts of hormones flooded his system while the need to have her roared through him. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, and if she touched him, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was inside her with her nails digging into his back hard enough to draw blood.

Her breath came out in shallow pants, and when he looked up at her, the absolute trust in her eyes was like a harsh slap of reality.

“We cannot do this. Is mistake.”

A hot blush filled her face, and he didn’t like how easily her feelings got hurt. Shit, he hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she couldn’t know his plans for her yet, know he’d made a dangerous decision that would change the course of both their lives. Better to let her remain ignorant and free of worry. He would complicate her world soon enough.

Her face paled even as her cheeks remained red. “I see.”

Jessica swayed so hard her hip bumped the table, and the chess pieces rolled to the floor. She flinched and rubbed her hip, immediately triggering his need to care for her. The tears were back in her eyes, and he cursed himself for being such a fool, for engaging in play like this with her when she was at her most vulnerable. The way she winced when she touched her hip made him flinch, and he knew that it was at least one thing he could take care of for her.

He pulled her gray pants down to reveal her reddened skin. Ignoring her attempt to push him away—she obviously had no idea how to fight—he gently rubbed the mark, relishing how soft her skin was. She relaxed beneath his touch, her body swaying into his as he caressed her. Her swearing at him finally penetrated his concern, and he couldn’t help but smile.