K E I R A

Moscow, Russia

I'd gotten rid of Maxim, but I hadn't expected to do it with a man who could pass for Niko's doppelgänger. If it wasn't for the darkness in his gaze or the coldness that could've brought December winds to shame, I'd have taken him to be Niko himself. But my Niko wasn't shrouded in reckless tenebrosity like this man was. He looked deadly in his blue suit, and grey tie, again a painful reminder of the time I'd spent with Niko, fighting him on the color.

How long until the ghost of him would leave me too? I hoped never, but there were times when the pain was too much, and I didn't want a reminder of my fuck-up anymore.

I had no plan to fuck the man, but something about him pulled me in, and then his lips were on mine, his ruthless intensity was an ocean of deep depths, and dark secrets. Vertigo with a promise of mayhem, and I did nearly drown in his taste, but then he pulled away, his posture tightened, and his gaze became steel—cold, metallic, rivaling even the polishes suit of armor, and just like that the smoldering grey of dying ashes turned sinister.

The side of his lips tipped up in a smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes, he closed in, his breath warm against my skin, "I'll be very honest here. I want to fuck you, but that's all there's to it. I'll make you scream, but I don't give a fuck about pleasantries, no foreplay, not anything else, and certainly not your name."

The roughness in his voice echoed inside me, and again the similarities in his raspy voice with Niko's threatened to be my undoing, but I held back. This was means to an end for both of us, I had to remember that, so I curled my fingers around his tie, tugging at it as I brought him even closer, tilting my head to meet his eyes; the heat from his suited body had goose-bumps breaking on my skin "I don't care about your name, or anything else, and I don't want you to remove your mask while you fuck me."

It'd be better if I could imagine him as Niko. Perhaps he wouldn't have the same small mole as Niko on his cheekbone, then my fantasy would break.

"Good," He finished, his grip on me tightening, but just like that it was gone, and his fingers curled around my wrist as he yanked me from my spot, and lead me towards an empty corridor with doors on both sides.

"Where—?" The words were instinctive, they fell out like a vulnerability, luckily, he didn't dwell on it, or if he did, he didn't show. He was a dangerous man, his muscles strained against the confines of his suit, and I knew the hands he just used to pull me in after him inside an empty room had witnessed countless brutal acts. It didn't deter my determination, for reasons entirely unknown to me, I felt wetness pool between my thighs.

Locking the door, he held me against it just as he brought his finger upon my lips. He replaced his forefinger with his thumb as his fingers dug in my jaw, he ran it over my lower-lip, no doubt smudging the color all around it. "Unless you want to tell me to stop, I suggest you don't talk, little wolf." Little wolf. I didn't even know why he was calling me that, he'd called himself a hunter, and true to their spirit, he'd smelled my weakness, but this told me I wasn't the only one pretending that he was someone else. I smiled at that, holding his gaze.

He closed his eyes, sighed, and when he opened them again, metallic silvers fighting against the blood, his stance became more rigid, and he took a step back. "Take off your panties,"

He ordered, and fuck, I liked it. Liked how his voice had an edge to it, a challenge to run, a warning to stay.  A sin to harbor, and heaven to wreak havoc on. Tonight would be my ruin because for the first time in eight years it wasn't just about the sex. He looked and sounded too much like Niko. Tonight was my reckoning, but something told me I wouldn't be the only one going down in flames.

I hooked my fingers in my thong, and pulled it down my legs, bending to pick it up, all while holding his now obsidian gaze. He looked angry, but at what? He might've been a hunter, but I wasn't anything less, I'd smelled his secrets, and even though he was just a stranger to me, I wanted them. He then brought his hand forward, a silent demand for the discarded piece of clothing dangling from my finger, I hiked my brow but gave it to him anyway.

He curled his fingers around it, and pocketed it, biting my lip at the sight, I tried my best to stay rooted to my spot, hoping to beat him at his own game of seduction. There was no game I hadn't mastered, I was Keira Knight, and I was taught by Kevin Knight himself. No game couldn't be rigged, no human that couldn't be conquered, and this man—whoever he was—was my war, and I'd be his death for war and death went hand in hand.

I opened my mouth to make a remark when his finger covered my lips again, "Not a word, little wolf."

If it were someone else, I would have kneed him, but I didn't. Something about him had lured me in, and I wanted him to take control. His hand curled around my throat, tight enough to be considered threatening, but loose enough for me to breathe. His other hand trailed over the skin exposed by the slit in my dress, slowly making its way towards my wetness. I wasn't embarrassed about it, not at all, but I did wish for him to be someone else, still, I didn't close my eyes so I could imagine him freely. Not being aware of my surroundings was a privilege I couldn't afford. His hand reached me, and he ran his finger over my slit, groaning at the wetness that greeted him. Like the other times, he pulled back, but this time, he leaned back, unbuckled his belt, removed something from his pocket, and let his pants and briefs slide down.

I found myself staring at his size, and no I wasn't worried if he'd fit, like I said before I hadn't denied myself sexual pleasure. He smirked at my reaction as he sheathed himself, and used his body to pin me against the wall. He pressed at my things, pulling me up, my dress bunched up between us. For some reason, I needed his clothes off, but before I could even reach out to loosen his tie, he took my wrists in his large hand and pinned them against the wall over my head.

"Now, little wolf, last chance to tell me if you don't want this,"

I felt helpless, and it wasn't because he had me at a disadvantage, it was because something was burning inside me. Looking at him, being so close to his scent had started hurting, and it was more intense than the hurt that'd become my partner. Still, I wouldn't give up, because fuck, if it didn't hurt good.

"If I didn't want this, you'd already be bleeding out on the floor," I breathed out, the lust in my voice startling me.

He chuckled, but even his laughter had a dark side to it, "Confidence is good, but you don't know who you're threatening, little wolf." His smile dropped, and his face turned focused as he lined himself at my entrance, sliding in one, long stroke. I gasped at the intrusion, but he pulled out almost instantly, slamming back in without wasting a breath, harder this time.

I bit my lip, fighting against the moan that threatened to fall through my lips at the sensations that were assaulting every inch of skin, lighting me up. He didn't give me much time to feel him inside me, but I felt his fast thrusts, how he elicited the things I hadn't felt in years with just raw sex. I fought against closing my eyes, holding his gaze instead, but he lowered his chin to his chest, hiding not just his eyes under the shadow of his eyelashes, but also his face from my view.

He pulled out, then drove his length inside me again.

My breaths were getting faster, and for some reason, my heart was beating wilder inside my chest as the pleasure built up. I knew I was wetter than usual, wetter than I should've been, but I couldn't help it. Each thrust pulled me towards oblivion, and I didn't want to come back down. My hands itched to be freed from his tight grip, and my back hurt a little by being held up against the wall, but fuck, I couldn't even say I didn't like it. The scent of sex and his woodsy cologne only pushed me higher, and for the first time in years, I truly let the current sweep me away to places I didn't know. To a place where my mistakes didn't follow me.

I tightened my grip on his waist as I returned his thrusts, he made no move to touch my pebbled nipples, his hands around my neck and wrists stayed firm as he pounded into me. At my actions, he looked up, barely breaking a sweat, hiking a brow when I met his rhythm again. Something flickered in his gaze, and he pulled out of me suddenly, only to thrust back inside harder. My back arched against the wall, head falling back against it, and this time I couldn't help the loud moans that left my mouth.

His fingers dropped my wrists, and his hands clamped over my mouth. "Your hands stay up there, or I stop." He growled, and I couldn't help the nod.

Apparently satisfied, he snapped inside me again, hitting a spot deep inside me, and I moaned against his hand, the sound muffled. He didn't waste any time though, his movements became faster, thrusts harsher than anyone had ever done with me. My thoughts muddled as he continued to hit that spot inside me, barely coherent. Losing the energy to hold my hands above me, my hands moved on their own accord, holding onto his shoulders instead.

He grunted lowly, but didn't stop, I had fallen out of his rhythm, too delirious to hold any control over my body anymore, his fast-paced pinned me to my spot as I dug my nails in the fabric of his jacket, trying to hold myself up. This was carnal, wild, insane, and I knew that I wasn't wrong when I'd anticipated this night to be my ruin. I just didn't know how right my thoughts would be until this moment. My nipples hurt as they scrapped against the fabric of my dress, but even the pain only heightened my pleasure. He continued to spear me, and heat traveled up my legs, through my spine to the spot he was holding my throat. With one more thrust of his, my muscles locked as everything inside me detonated in an uncontrolled explosion. My lips widened against his hand in a silent scream, he didn't stop moving though, only continued hitting that same spot over and over again like a broken record, playing the same notes over and over again as I exploded in ecstasy.

I didn't know I'd bit down on his hand, it was only when the taste of rust and blood infiltrated my taste buds did I realize what I was doing? The metallic taste filled my mouth, but he didn't remove his hand, and to hold some sort of control over him, I didn't remove my teeth.

His thrusts got jerkier, uncontrolled, and then with one last thrust, he stilled before he expanded inside me, his own orgasm finding him. His eyes stayed on mine, as I felt myself quivering around him in aftershocks. Finally, his breaths were shallow like mine, and not relaxed, but I couldn't feel anything. He'd done well on his words, he did truly fuck me.

I stiffened when he pulled out of me, finally acknowledging the soreness that'd settled between my legs. The asshole smirked before he leaned down, his lips tracing the shell of my ear, "It appears I was right, you do bite like a little wolf." He straightened then, not even bothering to look at his hand, turned around, and cleaned himself up.

After he discarded the condom and turned to face me again, I was stunned at his unscathed form while I was sure I looked the part of being thoroughly fucked. He made no motion to return my panties or to leave the room, so I decided to break the silence.

I extended my arm before I spoke, "You have something of mine, and I want it back,"

He only smirked, "We want many things in life, little wolf, and I'm afraid you're not getting it back."

"Why?" I asked, wide-eyed, unable to understand the enigma that he was.

"It's simple, actually," He buttoned up his jacket, and turned towards the door, "Because I want you to feel me each time you move, and feel the air grazing your cunt," And just like that, he turned the doorknob, opened the door, and he was gone.

It took a couple of minutes to make myself presentable, and when I did walk out of the room and blended in the crowd, I felt his hard length inside me, and for the first time in eight years, I wanted more. I didn't see him anywhere again, and when the time to remove our masks came at midnight, he was nowhere in sight. Now I truly knew my night to live as someone else was over.

There were no masks now, I was back to being Keira. The same person who slept every day hoping she wouldn't wake up because the pain was too much, then condemned the thought because she wasn't brought up to be a coward.

I wished I could live like I wanted to, and not in a way my dead parents paved for me, but if I left, I'd leave Kyzer alone, and I couldn't be happy, knowing my brother was still between rats.

This night was a dream, and just the others, it ended.

I had to think about the meeting with Chernov in two days, and hope that he couldn't figure out the Machiavellian this plan was because if he did we all were as good as dead, and something told me the devil wouldn't just stop at killing us.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Oh well, that meeting is going to get dramatic in more ways than one!!

Thoughts on Nikolai? Keira?

Hit me with your theories! We're finally moving towards the good part of the story, and I can't for you all to see what I have in store for you!!

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