SWNOVELS Sasha: Chapter 47
I didn’t know what to make of Sasha.
My kidnapper. My lover. My savior.
As odd as that sounded.
I was confused. Emotional. Guilty. I didn’t love Killian, but I respected him. I owed him more. Instead I caved to Sasha without any regard to my fiancé. Yes, I told Killian there was a man in my past, but I claimed he was history to me.
And here I was consorting with him. Getting wild with him.
After we landed, my eyes widened with shock the moment the door of the cabin opened and we stepped out onto the platform.
A Welcome to Siberia sign stared back at us.
“Siberia?” I said incredulously, staring at the desolate land without a city in sight. After we left Sasha’s place, we drove to a small private airport where a luxury jet waited for us. Twelve hours later, voilà. Cool summer and middle of nowhere. “You brought me to fucking Siberia?”
Sasha didn’t seem to notice my tone.
“You’ve never been,” he replied. “Siberia should be on every woman’s bucket list.”
I rolled my eyes. “No wonder you’re not married,” I remarked dryly.
His gaze flashed with something sardonic. Something obsessive in his eyes unnerved me. My sixth sense warned. But my body refused to cooperate. Because the man was way too good at dishing mind blowing orgasms.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” A whisper of darkness laced his voice and my pulse leapt. I sucked in a breath.
Did he mean-
No, he couldn’t have. Besides, I couldn’t forget and forgive that easily. He didn’t come back for years. Not once but twice he had left me. What if Wynter was his first choice? I’d never settle for being someone’s second best while keeping him as my first choice. It was a recipe for heartbreak.
I knew it wouldn’t bode well. Not for him. Not for me. Eventually, I’d resent the fact that he didn’t… love me? Jesus, this couldn’t be. I didn’t love him.
It’s a thin line between love and hate. Of all the phrases and words, this one came to mind. Wasn’t that what people always said?
“What’s the deal with you and Wynter?” The words slipped from my mouth. Without my fucking permission. I didn’t want to sound like a pathetic, jealous woman. Yet, I sounded like one with this question, but I couldn’t retract them back.
“She needed help. She isn’t mine. You’ve always been mine.”
My mouth parted in shock and I stared at him in disbelief. I’m his? Did that mean–
I shook my head. No, there were no words of love. Only possession. It was too much. Not enough. Too soon. Terrifying. Thrilling.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Branka Russo, for the past four years.” He took my wrist and we both stopped walking and faced each other. He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. A raindrop landed on my lashes, but I didn’t dare move. My ears buzzed. Our breaths mixed.
“Do you know how long four years is for a man?” My heart fluttered, the wings that were long clipped slowly spreading. I licked my lips and his gaze locked on the movement. “Do you, kotyonok?”
My mouth was too dry to say anything, but I couldn’t keep my tongue back. It was one thing that I loved about Sasha Nikolaev. He let me be me. “I’d imagine they’re as long as they are for a woman.”
A sardonic breath left him and his possessive gaze watched mine. “I haven’t touched a woman since I made you promise me to wait for me.”
“You haven’t?” I breathed.
He brought a finger up to my lips, then ran it across my bottom lip. My lips parted on their own will, breathing the cool air.
“Not a single woman.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “Suck.”
Without hesitation, I drew his finger into my mouth and sucked. His eyes darkened into dark ocean pools. It was addictive watching that pale gaze burn for me.
I scraped his finger with my teeth. He didn’t seem to mind the pain. “You’re lucky you didn’t let that fucker Killian touch you. You might have saved his life.” His words ignited an inferno and were burning me from the inside. Maybe he fucked all my brains out. “But I will punish you for thinking you could ever replace me.”
He pulled his finger back out, my teeth scraping against his skin. “I thought you were going to reward me,” I rasped.
His gaze lowered to the choker around my neck. A growl vibrated in his chest and blue fire ignited in his eyes. The kind that consumed your soul and left only ashes behind.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nikolaev.” An unfamiliar voice drew our attention and put a pause on our conversation. Probably for the best because I was flabbergasted.
Then the stranger’s words sunk in. He called me Mrs. Nikolaev.
My eyes drifted to Sasha but his gaze was sharp on the stranger.
“It’s nice to see you again,” the man continued when Sasha and I remained quiet. “Welcome home. The car is right this way.”
“Lead the way,” Sasha acknowledged him.
My gaze flicked to him, raising my eyebrow. “Welcome home?” I questioned. I didn’t think he lived in Russia.
As soon as the guy turned around, Sasha’s big hand traveled to my lower back. My core throbbed, eager to feel him inside me again. The desire to beg him to fuck me right now was on the tip of my tongue. Maybe those years of waiting for each other backfired on both of us.
No matter. Sasha waited for me. I grinned happily. I’d have to reward him.
Apparently, my sanity had been left back in the sanctuary of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
Once in the fancy Land Rover, we both settled into our seats, and it was then I noticed Sasha had his gun holster unbuttoned.
“Do you expect trouble?” I whispered so only he could hear me as the driver sped out of the airport and down the highway.
“No. I just like to be prepared.”
My eyebrows shot up. I was fairly certain he kept his gun secured for the short time we were in Louisiana.
He remained quiet for the remainder of the drive, watching the vast landscape of Siberia stretch for miles. At some point, I fell asleep while the scent of citrus remained all around me.
Twenty-four hours in a Russian castle.
The last thing I remembered was watching stretches of land as far as my eyes could see. I woke up as the dawn crept through the large windows in a strange room and Sasha was nowhere in sight.
Then I spent the day roaming the castle. One room in particular. The library. Lots of leather bound books stocked the shelves, the smell of old books filling the air. Tolstoy. Dostoevsky. Pushkin.
I studied the photos that hung on the wall. Portraits. Mother. Father. Kids.
But only one family photo, with the oldest son only. It. A few things Sasha let slip led me to believe his family wasn’t perfect, but I still found it odd. All photos were mainly of the siblings together or by themselves. Skiing. Tubing. Family vacations without parents.
Done with snooping around, I grabbed a book and turned it over curiously. Then I grinned.
“Perfect,” I muttered sarcastically. “A romance novel in Russian.”
Heading for the couch, closest to the window, I grabbed the remote and sat down with my legs crossed. I flipped through the channels with a romance novel on my lap. Then I went through all the channels again. And again. Every single channel was in Russian. So was the book. The only reason I knew it was a romance novel was because the cover was steamy hot.
It made sense. When in Russia, you were supposed to watch and read Russian. Well, I sucked at Russian. The only thing I picked up so far was pierogi and I wasn’t even sure that was a Russian dish.
“Let’s not forget I know what moye serdtse means,” I grumbled.
Sasha should have woken me up and dragged me along. Wherever he went. After all, he brought me all the way to Russia. Instead he left me alone in a remote Russian castle, dying of boredom and hating being alone.
It hadn’t even been a full week and I already missed my family. Even Killian. I wanted to call him and explain. I wanted to talk to my brother. Instead, I was still here. Without a phone. Without entertainment. And without any company.
Pressing a few more buttons, I switched over to HBO Max.
“Thank fuck,” I muttered. I was fairly certain that channel mainly had shows in English and Spanish. I started to scroll through the options and paused over House of Dragons. I hadn’t started watching it but with nothing better to do now, it sounded like a good plan.
“Binge watching it is,” I said to nobody in particular.
Sasha could have taken me with him, wherever he was going. Maybe he thought I’d take off. I wouldn’t, but that’s neither here nor there. So here I was, sitting on the couch in the luxurious library of our castle.
Not our castle, I quickly corrected myself.
Either way, it left me spending the entire day alone. I pulled the blanket over me and pressed the play button.
I watched the episodes back-to-back for hours, holding my breath, imagining dragons and handsome princes with hair whiter than Sasha’s breaking hearts only to swoop in later to rescue the heroine all over again.
Despite my shitty life and parents, I still believed in happily-ever-after. Autumn’s parents breathed that hope into me. People joked about my matchmaking, but there was just something magical about seeing a couple commit to each other. Finding that love that consumes you.
Like Autumn and my brother.
It was a long and hard road for the two of them, but they finally got their happy ending.
Sitting alone, I swooned over Prince Daemon Targaryen, a morally ambiguous and reprehensible character and hoped for his redemption. The impulsive and unpredictable rogue had me panting and rooting for him. Maybe because I saw someone else in him or maybe because I thought not all morally gray men were bad.
Just look at my brother and his friends. Even Sasha.
God, I wished Autumn was here so I could talk to her. I hated being alone. It was one of my weaknesses. Ever since I watched my older sister and Alessio sneak away in the shadows of the night, abandoning me to Father’s cruelty, I was terrified of being left behind. Mother left me long before she died. Sasha left me once. Would he do it again?
Would I be left to linger in the shadows again?
Left to linger in the shadows, being invisible and having nobody to love me.
A song came on and I reached for the remote before pausing the screen to read the title of the song.
“That song is too depressing.” Fingers ran through my hair and my head whipped around to find Sasha standing behind the couch. “Only happy songs for my kotyonok.”
I shook my head. We hadn’t talked about music preferences but if he thought I only listened to happy songs, he was sadly mistaken.
“When did you get back?” I asked him, throwing off the blanket and Prince Daemon on the screen completely forgotten.
“Just now.”
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
He came around and sat down next to me, the couch slightly dipping under his weight. My body shifted, falling into him and he wrapped his arms around me, then propped up his legs.
“What kind of show is that?”
“House of Dragons.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “You know dragons don’t exist, right?”
“Get the fuck out,” I muttered. “And here I had a dragon on my Christmas list.”
He glanced at me, amusement ghosting across his Arctic-colored eyes. He kissed me soft and slow, running his fingers through my hair.
“In that case, you shall get a dragon,” he murmured against my hair.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t keep my lips from smiling.
It was me and him, and in this very moment, nothing else mattered.