Valon: What Once Was (Volkov Bratva Novella)(23)

…Just someone who would make him feel less alone in a house full of people.

He wanted her to want him as he did her, not because she was scared of what he might do otherwise.

“Of course not, Valon,” she whispered as she came closer. “There’s nothing about you that scares me. Not anymore. They’d warned me about you, when they took me from the house with the other girls. They said you were a monster, and you got off on the pain you put others through, so you wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me.”

She cradled his face, kissing him lightly. “But you have only ever been good to me. And I want to give you something in return.”

When she pressed her lips to his this time, he didn’t pull away, no longer wanting to resist what she was offering.

Valon didn’t feel as confident here as he did when he entered the Pit. This was uncharted territory for him. But he was willing to learn.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming over his chest, her nails dragging along the contours and lines. A heavy breath left him as he gave himself over to something that wasn’t pain.

Lifting his arms, he helped her get his shirt off, tossing it in a corner of his room. He was usually a stickler for having things in their place, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less about that.

While she was bold in her exploration of him, he was careful as he touched her in return, too afraid of hurting her to do much more than leave his hands at her waist. These hands were bred to only give the maximum amount of force possible. How was he to know what was too much, and what wasn’t enough?

“It’s okay, Valon,” she whispered against his lips as she pulled away. “You can touch me.”

He licked his lips. “I don’t…I don’t know how.”

She didn’t laugh, nor did she make fun of him, but instead, she held his hands with her own, showing him exactly what to do.

Each article of clothing they wore came off, one by one, until there was nothing between them.

He was careful as he caressed her skin, listening to the breathy moans she let out, using that as an indication of what she liked. Adrenaline was coursing through him, making him far more aware of what was happening.

Elena reached between them, lifting up as she guided him inside of her.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile on her lips. “I won’t hurt you.”





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11




Fatos stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest as he watched Valon, once a friend and the only person who Fatos truly cared for, stand over the boy he’d just defeated, his hands bloody, the rest of him with matching splatters.

The men of their organization cheered. It was more money earned for them.

Fatos couldn’t care less about this, but he did care that his work, the work he had been doing for the better part of two years was being overlooked. But that was only because Valon was making strides to belong in their world. He could ignore his own ambitions for a while, just so that his friend could prosper.

That was just the type of person he was.

He had done everything in his power to make Valon’s life enjoyable here ever since he’d learned what happened to his parents. Did he ask for anything in return? No. But Valon could have at least given him his loyalty, but the moment a pretty little distraction came forward, Valon acted as though Fatos didn’t exist.

Fatos might have considered letting the transgression go, if not for the fact that he was forced to see her every time he attempted to see his friend. Fatos didn’t mind Valon having a pet, if only that pet knew its place.

His friend was too nice, Fatos decided as he watched him get ready for the fight. If he couldn’t do what needed to be done to make sure that she knew her place here—which was nothing more than a glorified hole to be filled whenever someone felt like it—then he would make it his duty to show her exactly what that meant.

Turning on his heel, Fatos headed back to the house, leaving the screaming, clamoring men who had nothing better to do than watch someone beat another to death behind, ignoring the curious glances he received in return. It was rare that he ever ventured away from Valon’s fights. The only time he’d avoided them was when Valon was first put in there with those animals. He might not have been able to do anything about it then, but he had enjoyed, probably more than the others, when Valon bashed his skull in.

The house was relatively empty since most of the men were attending the fights in the back barns, but a few were hanging around, notably Strom who was sitting at a small folding table, an even smaller television playing the latest match sitting on top of it. He was eating a bag of chips, cheese crumbs dusting his beard and the front of his black shirt.

Strom could never be mistaken for anything more than a well-trained soldier, only ever doing what he was told, and probably had no ambition to acquire more than whatever paltry sum he was paid now. But because he was not the brightest, it made instructing him to do something that much easier.

Seeing the mess that Strom had made of himself, Fatos withheld his sneer, forcing a smile so that he at least looked somewhat kind. “I need a favor, Strom.”

He looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then rubbing said hand onto his pants.

Disgusting slob.

Ignoring him for the time being, he opened one of the cabinets, pulling out the industrial-strength ammonia that was stored there. Carefully, he poured some into an old water bottle, securing it back with the top before replacing the jug back beneath the sink. He smiled at the bottle in his hand a moment before focusing back on Strom.