Midnight Purgatory (Bugrov Bratva #1)

“She has plenty of that,” he grits out. But it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying.

“Please. She needs you, Uri. And not just on random weekends. She’s trying to make herself small so that you don’t have to worry about her. But guess what? She needs more than she’s willing to ask for.”

He stops short and his fury abates for a second. Even his temper is not enough to distract from the worry he has for his sister. My heart aches as I watch those blue eyes unravel. “Did she say that?”

I sigh. “She didn’t have to. I could tell just from talking to her. She’s hurting, too, Uri.”

He’s looking right at me but his gaze is unfocused and distant. “She was the one that wanted to go off to boarding school. It was her decision.”

“Might it have had a little something to do with the fact that Lev doesn’t do well around her?”

Bam. Just like that, the focus is back on me. Intense enough to make me sweat. “What happened?” he asks. “Something must have happened between the two of them while they were—”

“Nothing happened,” I say gently. “I just noticed that Lev was a little more standoffish with her than he is with other people. And Polly mentioned a couple of things, too.”

His jaw clenches tight. “It’s gotten a lot better than it used to be,” he admits in a self-conscious rasp. “But right after his coma, he started… he started having panic attacks whenever he looked at her.” Uri strokes his beard stubble reluctantly. “I don’t know why. I still can’t—”

“I know.”

He looks flabbergasted. “You can’t possibly—”

“Her eyes,” I whisper. “She has your mother’s eyes, doesn’t she?”

He pauses and rears back to look at me from a new angle. The furrow between his brows is deep, gathering shadows. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Lev told me. He also told me that after the car fell down the ravine, he was trapped in that seat, staring straight at her. Your mom, sh-she… I think she died with her eyes open.”

He stares unblinkingly at me for a moment. “Fuck,” he breathes as his own eyes water and close. “Fuck.”

“Uri.” Without thinking, I reach out and cup his face with the palm of my hand. I place my other hand on his chest. It’s beating fast, filled with the kind of loss, the kind of pain that I experienced myself once. “I’m sorry.”

“He told you all that?” he asks with his eyes still hooded and low.

“It wasn’t, like, a whole thing. We were just talking. I mentioned my sister; he mentioned that. I didn’t even put it together until I saw Polly today. Her eyes—they were exactly how he described your mother’s eyes.”

He jerks away from me and I drop my hands. “Do you know how long I’ve spent trying to figure this out? Trying to figure out why he… why he… fuck.”

“Well, now, you know.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known sooner.”

“Will you stop?” I spit angrily. “Blaming yourself doesn’t help those kids. You’ve tried hard and from what I can see, you’ve done a damn good job.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Actually, I do. Don’t get me wrong: I think you’re a brute and an ass most of the time. But only towards me. To those kids… you’re their hero.” He shakes his head and I step forward. This time, I step into his space. “Don’t take it personally, Uri.”

“I don’t get it,” he says, sounding genuinely baffled. “Why would he open up like that to you and not me?”

“I’m not trying to change him.”

His eyes narrow. Shit. “No, why would you? You’re not here for the long haul. The only thing you want is to leave.”

“Can you blame me?” I cry out, gesturing around me. “Look at where I’ve spent the last few weeks. How am I supposed to want anything else? You won’t come down here to see me; you won’t talk to me. And any time we do talk, you push me away right afterwards.”

“Don’t you fucking—”

“It’s true!”

“What are you saying? If I paid more attention to you, then you’d be happy to stay down here?”

I freeze, feeling the heat of his gaze slide over my face and make my cheeks burn. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I gulp, but it’s too late to turn back now. “I’m saying that you’re obviously keeping me here for a reason. And more and more, I believe that reason has nothing to do with protecting me from outside threats.”

He scowls. His lips are maybe a quarter inch from mine. If I move even a hair’s breadth, my face will collide with his…

Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Resist. Resist. Resist.

A shiver runs down my spine before I speak. “You want me.” He doesn’t flinch. “But you’re afraid to want me. This isn’t just about sex and we both know it.”

“No. This is about you not knowing your place.”

I have no idea how, but suddenly, his fingers are entwining through mine. The heat of his chest is pressed against mine. It feels like we’re fusing together slowly and neither one of us can control it.

“You are never to speak to Polly or Lev ever again,” he growls.

I glare at him. “Make me.”

“Fuck,” he growls a moment before his lips slam down on mine.

Our bodies come together and it’s no-holds-barred, fully uncaged levels of chemistry. Surely he can’t be immune to this. Surely he can’t still believe that this is just sex.

No matter how good the sex may be, it doesn’t feel this good without a connection.

My tongue grapples with his as we each try to assert ourselves along this delicate line we’re threading. His hands slide over my body, tearing the clothes from me until I’m naked and shivering underneath him. He pushes up my leg and a moment later, I hear his zipper drag.

He touches my wet folds, sliding in and out of me before I feel his cock nuzzling my pussy. Moaning, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and wind myself as close to him as I can. His arm slides over my back and pulls me into him.

When he thrusts inside me, my eyes flutter closed. That’s the last moment of delicateness before we both fall apart. We share one long, shuddering breath—and then he fucks me harder than he’s ever fucked me before. He fucks me as though he’s trying to expel dark forces from my body. As though he’s trying to purge us both of something.

At some point between the intense thrusts, I stop thinking. I forget about the politics at play between us or the fact that I left a whole life behind when I climbed that fence. I forget about my best friend’s wedding and my dead twin sister and all the shit that populates my thoughts when I lie tossing and turning in bed at night.

Right now, I can only concentrate on the heat of those thrusts. The way his hands slide over my body, reminding me who I really belong to.

“Look at me,” he orders as I struggle to rein my body in.