I whimpered. Just like that, I was calmed. Valentin reared back, but only by an inch. His eyes still bored into mine and no words were spoken, but he moved forward, the head of his hardness pushing into me.

I sucked in a sharp breath at this new feeling. My hands slapped against the heavily defined biceps on Valentin’s arms. His jaw was tense, and he scarcely breathed as he slowly pushed forward again.

Air whooshed from my lungs as he pushed farther inside. Pain began to build, and as he continued to move I was sure he could not fit. I wasn’t sure I could take him … the pain.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he filled me, and filled me, my nails digging into the skin on his arms. Then they snapped back open when, on a long thrust, he filled me to the hilt. I cried out. Valentin’s strong arms shook as he held up his torso.

A fast burst of breath rushed from his mouth, an echo of a growl in his throat. My forehead was damp as I tried to bear the pain. Then Valentin moved, his hips pulling back until only the tip of his length remained within me. I froze as he began pushing forward once again, only this time, as Valentin pushed himself within me, the pain dulled and, in its place, a shiver of pleasure ran through my veins.

A surprised moan left my lips. My eyes that were fixed like glue on Valentin’s then dropped down between us, and I could feel myself get wet at the sight that greeted me. Valentin’s stomach rolled with the movement of his hips, and every time it did I caught sight of him pushing within my core, my skin flushing at this erotic sight.

Valentin’s breathing suddenly changed. His long controlled breaths quickened in pace. His fair skin flushed under the dark stubble coating his face. His eyes became leaden as his hips began to thrust faster and faster.

“Valentin,” I whispered almost inaudibly. Valentin hissed at his name on my lips. His large arms caging my head closed in, until he was all I could see, all I could feel—within me, around me. The warmth from his skin scalded my flesh, and the low raspy groans beginning to claw from his throat ignited a fire in my blood.

Valentin thrust harder. At the heady feel of his length dragging against something within my channel, something that I knew on instinct I craved, my hips moved too, rolling in conjunction with his.

A loud moan poured from Valentin and his body jerked. “Fuck,” he bit, and lowered his mouth until his lips brushed against mine. He never kissed me, just left his soft mouth teasing me. But at the same time my heart stuttered at his closeness.

That now-familiar pressure of pleasure began to build inside me, traveling down to my thighs. My eyes widened at the feel, and I realized it was nothing like the pleasure Valentin had given me before. This was different; this felt very different.

Valentin’s thrusts were fast and strong, the pace of him pushing inside of me bringing me to the brink of an unknown precipice. Moving my hands, I wrapped them around Valentin’s neck and felt every second of our joining, of our hips fighting for the pleasure that was now within sight. Hot shivers accosted my skin and my heart beat too fast. Crying out as a spark of intense heat spiked within me, I pressed my forehead against Valentin’s forehead and whispered his name.

A choked groan was my response and Valentin held me closer, his hips now frantic and out of control as he slammed within me. “Valentin,” I whispered again, and again, and again, until a wave crested within me, suspending me in the moment, before crashing through my body holding me captive to the pleasure possessing me. I distantly heard myself screaming out, clutching on to Valentin as if my body feared I would fall were I not to hold him close.

Valentin stiffened. With a thunderous cry, he came within me, the feeling of his seed filling my channel, causing yet another moan to escape my mouth. Glancing up, I watched Valentin’s face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips were pulled tight, and his jaw was clenched shut. His fair skin was flushed with the force of his release. As if feeling my stare, he snapped his eyes open and set free his held breath.

Panting, his hot skin glistening with sweat, he fell forward, tucking his face into the crook of my neck. Tipping my head back, to allow myself to breathe, my hands ran down to Valentin’s broad back, my palm and fingers sliding on his slick skin.

At my touch, his length jerked within me, his skin twitching as it did.

I felt full. I felt so full and complete. So complete that tears burned in my eyes. This man above me. This man, inhaling my scent and possessing my body, was also possessing my heart.

I relaxed into the mattress, just holding Valentin close. Eventually, when he lifted his head, his dark features appeared sinful against his flushed skin. But his crystal blue eyes stood out like stars in a night sky.

And he watched me.

He never took his intense gaze off me.

I blushed under his attention, until he lowered his hand to run his fingers down my cheek. I waited for him to speak, I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, with his finger under my chin, he tipped my head up and fused his lips to mine.

This kiss was slow and unhurried. This kiss was soft and consuming. And this kiss told me without words how this beautiful monster was feeling inside—content.

His tongue invaded my mouth, and as it gently slipped against mine I tasted myself. My body simmered in the aftermath, at the effect of this sweet kiss. We kissed and kissed for I don’t know how long. When Valentin finally broke away, I knew something between us had switched.

He was no longer the torturer.

I was no longer his victim.

Valentin’s forehead rested against mine, and inhaling a shaky breath he confessed, “I feel alive.” I stilled at these heartbreaking words; then he added, “I feel like yours.”

My eyes pricked with water and I encased him in my embrace. “Valentin,” I said in a hushed voice. “Not only have you claimed my first kiss; you have claimed my innocence.” I took a deep breath knowing I needed to say the words waiting on the tip of my tongue and whispered directly into his ear, “And you have claimed my soul.”

“Zoya,” Valentin groaned in response, and reared back to look at my face. There was a momentary expression of happiness; then it faded, to be defeated by an expression of pain. “I’m not worthy of this. I’m a killer.”

As I tilted my head, my heart sank at these expressions of self-deprecation. “No, Valentin, you’re simply … you,” I countered.

Valentin pushed his lips against mine in a searing kiss, then slid to the side, his length falling from within me. I gasped at the sudden loss of fullness but felt replete when Valentin scooped me into his strong arms and pulled me to his chest.

A happy silence passed between us, until my finger traced the tattooed “194” emblazoned on his chest. I stared at the tattoo, and our reality came crashing back. Feeling a stab of dread piercing through my heart, I said, “As much as I hate this chamber of hell, right now I think I would trade my soul if we could stay in here forever.”

Valentin stiffened beside me and, holding me closer to his side, confided, “For the first time in my life, I have no idea what to do next. I’ve wished to never be commanded again. Now I have freedom, I have no idea what to do with it.”

Sadness filled me when I knew he was thinking about the safety of his sister. About what would be her fate if he didn’t capture my brother. Throat tightening, I said, “I cannot let you hurt Zaal. But by the same token, I cannot bear for you to lose your Inessa.”

A pained sound came from Valentin, and holding me close, he replied, “I do not know what to do, kotyonok. My entire existence has been to save my sister, but now…,” he trailed off.

“But now there is me,” I finished for him. I felt him nod and said, “My entire life, I have waited to see my brothers again…” This time I trailed off my sentence.

“And now there is me,” Valentin finished for me.

“Yes.”

Shifting on the bed, I lifted to lie over Valentin’s huge body and glanced at the floor, lost in thought. But then my eyes found the collar, still abandoned on the black tiled floor. I saw Zaal in my mind. I saw him smiling with the Tolstaia girl and hope sprang in my chest.

“Valentin,” I said, the names Tolstaia and Volkov circling my head. When I looked back to Valentin, he was waiting for me to speak. Pushing my hair back from my face, I said, “My brother, Zaal.” I paused, staring into Valentin’s blue eyes, searching for the reassurance that I could tell him this in his face. All I saw was sincerity and his heart staring back. Edging closer, I said, “My brother, Zaal Kostava, is marrying a Tolstaia. My brother, the Lideri of the Kostava Clan, is marrying into the Volkov Bratva.”