Chapter 24

POV ALEJANDRA ZAVALA

That was the fifth time I found myself on the floor, my back against the mat, legs in the air, after Ilya threw me down. Over the past month, he had been trying to teach me some self-defense techniques, but it was completely unfair for me to be trained by a bear, whose arms were the size of my thighs.

"I think you should let someone else train me. You said Gillian is good at this..." I said as I got up and walked over to the small table where there was a water bottle and a towel.

I grabbed both. Took a sip of water and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

"If you get caught, they won’t give you the easiest opponent."

"But I doubt any of them are a bear like you," I muttered.

"You could at least ask one of the other guys. Drake or Hunter, maybe. I imagine they’re tough, but not as much as you."

"None of them are going to train you," he said with absolute conviction, in that deep, violent growl he gave when something outraged him.

"None of them are going to touch you."

I stood still, looking at Ilya’s back.

He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt, and... my God. I had never stopped to notice how sexy a man’s back could be. Even more with the tattoos he had. There weren’t many, but they were well done, beautiful.

Ilya was also drinking some water, and I raised an eyebrow, thinking it would be fun to play with the situation.

"Oh? And why not?" I teased.

"Because I don’t want to."

I took a few steps forward, getting closer. He was even breathing heavier.

So, Ilya Kravtsov was jealous? Good to know.

It had been four damn weeks since we had sex for the first time, and Ilya had been quieter with me. There was also the fact that he left the house every day to follow Hunter on his missions for the Cosa Nostra, and he spoke very little about it.

He’d come home, take a shower, and we’d have dinner. The next morning, I would start working at the daycare, and I was more than excited about it. Not just because I’d have an activity that would make me feel less like I had become a housewife or a wife—which wasn’t a problem, but it was never my choice—but because, for the first time in my life, I would earn my own money.

It wasn’t much, but enough to excite me.

At night, we always ended up in each other’s beds, having sex. Always hot, always intense, always in Ilya’s way. Yet I still felt like he lived in contradiction with me. On one hand, he wanted to devour me. On the other, he held back, because even I had to admit our situation was as complicated as it could get.

Even more complicated because I was completely lost in that man. In love. Beyond return.

Seeing him jealous lit a small spark of hope in my chest. I couldn’t let it pass.

"You don’t want to? Why not?" I lowered my voice to a purr, daring to play the seductress. Which I knew I wasn’t.

"Hmmm... don’t provoke me, Alejandra."

"Why? What are you going to do?"

Ilya still had his back to me, breathing even harder. The room we were in was surrounded by mirrors, with mats on the floor and some iron bars around it. It was inside a training center, which also had a shooting range, targets, and everything.

We hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but Ilya had already told me he would train me in that too.

"Fuck, Alejandra!" The man was fuming, and I watched him through the mirror beside us. With his hair tied in a bun, he looked even more like a Viking, and I kept wondering how it was possible for me to be this turned on, feeling the ache between my legs, just from looking at him.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, barely touching him with my fingertips, but it was enough for him to grab me and lift me off the ground in a move so swift that I barely saw how I ended up pinned against the same mirror I had been admiring him through earlier.

I let out a small squeal of surprise, a little dizzy from how he had manhandled me.

"I don’t want anyone touching you because you’re mine." That voice, rough and full of possessiveness, drove me insane.

"Am I?" I asked with an innocent look, and he settled me onto the iron bar.

Not sitting, exactly, but with just a part of my ass resting on it. It was a bit uncomfortable, but who cared?

"Mine. Do I need to mark you all over so you understand that, moi rys?"

"Maybe you do..."

Ilya didn’t wait for another command, just leaned in, grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them against the mirror behind me.

He still hadn’t unleashed that violent side with me, and I was eagerly waiting for it. So much so that I moaned softly when his kiss came, fierce.

Without even thinking about where we were, I started pulling off his shirt, and he did the same with mine.

It was a public place, after all. Anyone from the community could walk in and catch us.

Ilya probably thought the same thing because he set me down and moved straight to the door, locking it.

I licked my lips as I watched him walk back toward me with that confident stride, wearing only a pair of sweatpants.

If I had any thought that this brief separation might kill the mood, it vanished the moment he finished stripping me, leaving me completely naked.

"No cameras here?" I asked, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"No, none."

In his rough way, Ilya finished speaking and immediately turned me around, pressing my back against his chest. Holding my neck, he pulled my head back against him, gripping my chin with two fingers to keep my face still.

"Eyes on the mirror. I want you to watch as I make you feel good so you understand that no one else will ever touch you like I do."

Just that was enough to make my knees weak.

His other hand found one of my nipples, tugging it hard enough for me to feel discomfort. But the way I shivered was from pleasure, not pain.

"You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you, moi rys? You will, because I know you like it and you’ve been waiting for this for a long time."

"How do you know?"

"Because you begged me to fuck you on our first night."

"And you still haven’t?" Ilya had been rough a few times, but what did I know about sex?

"Not even close to everything I can do. I haven’t even been half as rough as I could be, if you want me to." As he said that, he twisted my nipple hard again, and the reaction between my legs was instant.

"Please, Ilya..." That was all I could manage to say, gasping, my body going completely weak against him. Deliciously exposed.

"Then say it. Repeat what you told me that time. Beg." The last word came out as another growl, and he squeezed my nipple even harder.

"Fuck me. Hard. However you want. I want Ilya’s way of loving. I want it all..."

"Then keep watching."

I barely blinked. Even less when his huge hand left my neck, trailing down my body, over my stomach, until it found the smooth skin between my legs. The other stayed on my breast, squeezing both my nipple and clit between his fingers, massaging them in the same rhythm.

He felt like a rock behind me, his arms surrounding me. Watching my body respond to him, flushing, the involuntary expressions on my face... It was an erotic dream I could hardly believe I was living.

His teeth bit my earlobe, then grazed down my neck. I watched as he used his foot to pull a wooden bench closer, and the next moment, I was on top of it after Ilya grabbed my waist and lifted me as if I weighed nothing.

By raising me higher, he had better access to my pussy, sliding a finger inside, pushing deep, making me moan louder.

"So fucking wet. I’m losing my mind, Alejandra. Just feeling all this on my fingers makes me want to fuck you against one of these mirrors."

I shivered, but I felt one of his arms around my hips, holding me there.

"Is that what you're going to do?" I asked, somewhere between curiosity and deep anticipation.

"Ah, moi rys. Yes. That's exactly what I'm going to do. But only after one more thing."

Ilya circled my body, positioning himself in front of me. He flashed a wicked smile, one so devilish it was almost sinful.

"I want you to watch us in the mirror while I fuck you with my mouth."

I was going to die. Seriously.

There wouldn’t be a single piece of Alejandra left to tell the story.

Ilya placed both hands firmly on my ass, pulling me even closer to his mouth, and then he started devouring me. No mercy.

A few times, I ended up closing my eyes, but my curiosity to see us was always stronger.

He looked like a god in the mirror's reflection. A Nordic warrior, a Viking, worshiping me in every possible way. What more could I possibly want?

I arched my back in response to the pleasure he was giving me, but he was always attentive, steadying me by pressing a hand against my lower back.

"I can't hold on," I whispered, not even sure if he had heard me.

"Then come for me."

And I did. Melting in his arms, in his mouth, losing all control, becoming nothing but a toy in his hands.

As soon as I climaxed, he set me down, leaning me against one of the mirrors because I had no strength to stand on my own.

Ilya removed his sweatpants, now completely naked. The bastard pulled a condom from his pocket, surprising me.

I was about to ask if he had planned our "training" with some level of mischief in mind, but I didn't get the chance—because the moment I caught my breath, I was being lifted off the ground, pressed against the mirror, and fucked with my legs wrapped around his waist.

The thrusts were merciless, growing even more intense as I felt Ilya losing himself inside me. At one point, I had to hold on tightly with both my arms and legs because he kept pounding into me—once, twice, three times—almost like he was furious.

I screamed with every deep stroke, and I dared to glance at the mirror beside us. With our bodies entwined, we looked like one. It was impossible not to think that what we had was more than just sex, not when we moved in such perfect sync, so lost in each other, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

When we came, moments later, I was still staring at us, trying to figure out where he ended and where I began.

Trying to figure out how I would ever let go of this man if the time came when I had no choice...