Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners) (12 page)

The Donatelli
soldiers forced Sasha into the cell behind them, locking him in with the
D’Angelo Don and his guard. The two men tried to console him, but he couldn’t take
in their words, his mind too overwhelmed by Yuri’s murder. Instead, he cried out
to God, praying for the Lord to bring his brother back and take him instead. Yuri
deserved to live more than he did. His brother was a good person—unlike Sasha. He’d
done horrific things in the name of the Black Russian, things he needed to be
punished for.

But his prayers went
unanswered, causing his mind to fracture. As a result, he started doing things
without thought, his body going into autopilot. Yells soon followed, more
deaths mounting, but this time by his hands. He’d attacked some Donatelli
soldiers when they’d entered the cell. He broke one’s neck, then bashed the
other’s head against the concrete floor. Eventually, some soldiers subdued him,
forcibly dragging him out of the cell. They beat him, then threw him into the
back of a van. He fell in and out of consciousness, waking up fully after
arriving at their destination—a place even Hell couldn’t compete with...

The House of Whores.

Inside the large mansion,
dead-eyed women lay on beds, waiting to be used by men, their prostitution forced
upon them. Then there were the cells below, where male cries of agony split the
air. The soldiers had dragged him into one of those cells. It was dark, with
chains and ropes hanging from the walls. There were also instruments of torture
lining a table, ready to be used on him.

As they attached him
to the wall, someone screamed out for mercy in an adjoining cell—an ominous
precursor to the suffering Sasha would have to endure. And he did suffer, far
too much for any one person to handle. Over the following days, the Donatelli tortured
him until his throat went hoarse from screaming. At one point he thought he’d
died, because he started to see things. Ghosts. Ghouls. Creatures that belonged
in Hell. Or maybe those creatures had broken out, coming to a place more
deserving of the name.

Then the torture grew
worse, but not physical in nature, the soldiers changing tactics. The sick
bastards started bringing him the heads of his fellow guards, the ones they’d
shot in the D’Angelo house. They shoved his comrade’s decaying faces in front
of his. He’d sobbed at the sight, unable to hold in the pain of seeing what had
happened to his friends. He’d known them since he was twelve, grown up with
them. They were his brotherhood—
the
Bratva.
Yet, the Donatelli had reduced them to horror shows so they
could torment him even more.

The Donatelli soldiers
had laughed at his anguish, not realizing they could’ve destroyed him
completely by showing him his baby brother. But they never brought Yuri’s head...

His
only
saving grace.

9

ANDRIENA

The gun clicked, but
nothing fired, no bullet in the chamber. Andriena cried out, an avalanche of
relief flooding her, so overwhelming she felt like collapsing, but instead she
lowered the gun. Keeping her focus on Sasha, she placed it on the table, more
than grateful for his support. He’d gotten her through it, stopped her from
crumbling in upon herself, the man not as heartless as he made himself out to
be.

“Well, I guess I have
to wait longer to see you die, Andriena,” the Black Russian said, drawing her
attention back to him. “But since you did what I asked, I will reward you.
Remove Sasha’s shirt. His body will please you very much.” When she didn’t move
straight away, he flicked his hand. “Hurry up, I know you like his body.”

Keeping her eyes downcast,
she walked over to Sasha and took hold of his shirt. Instead of resisting, he
lifted his arms. She glanced up, seeing him staring down at her. His gray eyes once
more looked silver under the fluorescent light, but even more so than before,
the black of his pupils no longer swamping them. Again, it made him look supernatural,
like one of the heroes in her paranormal novels. The Black Russian said something,
but she didn’t hear what it was, Sasha’s silver eyes captivating her.

“Remove my shirt,”
Sasha said, snapping her out of the stare.

Feeling stupid, she
quickly lifted his shirt over his head, revealing an amazing body. Her eyes
went to his stomach, the curves and grooves of his abs well-defined. She
swallowed and looked back up at his eyes, finding him staring down at her
breasts. She panted out a breath, his stare making her hot.

“My Nikita showed me
the video of you drunk,” the Black Russian said, slicing through her thoughts. “It
was very comical, especially when you spanked Sasha.”

Andriena dropped her
gaze again, embarrassed he’d brought that up.

“Did you enjoying
touching his ass?”

“I don’t remember,”
she croaked out.

“Then, do it again,
just without his briefs on. Turn around, Sasha, so she can remove them, unless
you want her to pull the trigger again.”

Andriena glanced up,
seeing Sasha glowering at the Black Russian.

His master smiled back,
the corner of his smirk getting lost in a tattoo, so dark and evil like the man
himself.
“Hurry up,” he said, adding
something else in Russian.

Sasha tensed, every
muscle in his body standing out. It looked like he wanted to propel himself at
the Black Russian. To smash through the window and rip his master’s heart out,
that’s if he even had one, because Andriena was sure nothing beat inside the
psycho’s chest.

But instead of losing
his temper, Sasha spun around, facing away from her so she could pull his
briefs down. Andriena stepped in closer and placed her hands on his hips. He
flinched, as though her touch revolted him. She shook the thought out of her
head, knowing it didn’t, because the way he’d touched her before, embracing her
in his arms as he’d sucked on her breast... She breathed out. It had held nothing
but desire. Obviously, he was acting this way because he was humiliated, and
she couldn’t blame him, because she’d felt the same when he’d removed her bra.

“I’m sorry,” she
whispered, then lowered his briefs, freezing at what she saw, the shock
stealing her breath away.

“What’s written on
his ass, Andriena?” the Black Russian asked.

Carved deep in his
flesh were the words
puttano
—whore. Her head snapped up, her eyes going
to the evil son of a bitch behind the window, the bastard looking pleased with
himself.

“It says
puttano
and
it’s not written!” she yelled. “It’s carved in there. How could you do that?!”

The Black Russian made
a derisive sound. “It’s written in Italian, you stupid woman. If I carved it in
there it would be in Russian. Now, tell me what it means?”

“Whore. A male one.”

“Sasha, tell her who
carved that into your ass.”

She turned her head
to him. He was still facing away from her, his body like stone, frozen in
place.

“
Sasha
,” the
Black Russian said, sounding like he was taunting him.

Sasha stepped out of
his briefs, then slowly turned around with his hands covering his cock and
balls. He didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed firmly on his master, their
silver cast holding a deep-seated hatred. “A Donatelli soldier,” he answered.

Andriena inhaled
sharply, her family name hitting her.

“Tell her why,
Sasha,” the Black Russian said.

Sasha kept his gaze
trained on him. “I was captured by the Donatelli and...” he hesitated, sounding
like he didn’t want to say the next words.

“Continue,” the Black
Russian pressed on.

“Tortured.”

“That describes part
of what happened. Now, what’s the word that relates to that scar?”

“It was still
torture.”

“Say what you know I
want to hear or shoot Andriena.”

Sasha’s face twisted
with rage. “They raped me! Is that what you fucking wanted to hear, you bastard!”

Andriena staggered
back, what he’d said shocking her, although it shouldn’t have, because she knew
her family was bad... no, many of them were evil, what Sasha had said proving
it.

“It’s true,
Andriena,” the Black Russian said. “The D’Angelo family rescued him from a
place called the House of Whores, which was run by your family.”

She looked at Sasha,
still seeing shame on his face, but much more intense. But he had nothing to be
ashamed of ...
she did
... because it was her family who’d done the
unspeakable. Now it made sense why he was so uptight about anything sexual.

Her family had made
him that way.
And she’d made things
worse by continually pushing him.

“I’m so sorry, I
didn’t know,” she said. “Please forgive me, Sasha.”

He shook his head. “You
have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do this to me. You’re as much a
victim of your family as I am. So dry your eyes, you’re guilt free.”

The Black Russian
tapped the viewing-window, drawing Sasha’s attention back to him. “Show her what
else was done to you. Remove your hands from your groin.”

“You did that to me,
not
the Donatelli!” Sasha yelled.

“I know, but it’s so
beautiful I want her to see it.”

Sasha stalked over to
the window and held his hands out. “This isn’t beautiful, it’s hideous!” he hollered,
facing away from Andriena.

The Black Russian’s gaze
lowered down Sasha. His grin widened, reminding Andriena of the Joker’s warped
smile. “You’re wrong; it’s one of my masterpieces.” His gaze drifted back up
Sasha’s body, his eyes dancing with malicious intent. “Show Andriena, and make
sure to lift up that lovely cock of yours. I don’t want it hindering her view.”
When Sasha didn’t move, he indicated with his knife. “Hurry up, unless you want
the other one removed.”

Sasha turned to face
Andriena. Her gaze dropped to his groin, her eyes widening with horror. One of
his balls was gone. There was a thick red scar where it should have been. It looked
like it had been hacked off, his other ball hanging solo.

Andriena’s focus
shifted to Sasha’s face. She thought he’d looked ashamed before, but that was
nothing in comparison to now. From his wounded eyes to his tight grimace, even the
strained muscles in his neck, he looked like he wanted to disappear from
existence, to have something swallow him up so he didn’t have to stand before
her, showing her what was no doubt his greatest humiliation. He was also
shaking, but not from fear. A cocktail of anger and shame undoubtedly was behind
it, and probably the vicious memory of what had been done to him.

“Sasha screamed when
I removed his ball,” the Black Russian said, his voice filled with a twisted
sense of pride. “Warranted, I didn’t give him pain relief, just had my guards
hold him down while I removed it—”

“You’re sick!”
Andriena spat, cutting him off. She wished she had a knife in her hand so she
could hear
him
scream as she hacked
his
ball off.

He did that joker
smile again, looking just as crazy as the comic book villain. “It’s called
eccentric when one’s rich. By the way, do you want to see the removed ball? I
have it preserved in a jar.”

“No!” she yelled in disbelief,
thinking no one could be this warped. He wasn’t just psychotic, he was a
monster dressed in human form.

“Each to their own. Now,
whose turn is it to choose between the gun and fun?” His gaze moved back to
Sasha. “I think it’s yours.”

“I’ll take his turn,”
Andriena blurted out, not wanting the bastard to force Sasha to do a thing.

The Black Russian
raised an eyebrow. “Keen to play now?”

“The gun will be
pointed at me either way.”

“It’s still Sasha’s
turn, so how about we just cut to the chase, because I’m sure he’ll choose to
remove your panties rather than shoot you.” He flicked a hand. “Go on, Sasha, it’s
your turn to see some ass.”

Still appearing
ashamed, Sasha went to her.

“You have nothing to
be ashamed of,” Andriena said, staring him in the eyes. “Only the Black Russian
should be ashamed.”

“Well, I’m not,” the
Black Russian replied. “I’m very proud of what I did.”

“Because you’re
sick!”

“While you’re
repetitive.” He flicked a hand. “So hurry up, Sasha, play my game or see
Andriena suffer the consequences.”

Sasha’s gaze went to
her panties.

She took his hands
and placed them on her hips. “I give you permission.”

“He doesn’t need your
permission,” the Black Russian interrupted. “He’ll do it because I
ordered
him to. Sasha, remove her panties and do it on your knees.”

Sasha took hold of
her panties and lowered himself to his knees, slipping them down Andriena’s
legs, his face inches from her pussy. Instinctively, she placed her hands over
it.

“Uncover yourself, Andriena,”
the Black Russian said. “You have nothing to be ashamed of—unlike Sasha.”

“I don’t know how you
can sleep at night,” she hissed.

“Exquisitely well,
thank you very much. And unlike, Sasha, you’re starting to bore me. Albeit your
erratic outbursts, you’re not a very interesting character.”

“I’m not a character,
I’m a person!”

“Who shouts too much.
At least when Sasha shouts he gives me the shivers. His voice is pure porn, while
yours hurts my ears. I can see why your uncle sold you, just a pity I can’t
return you and get my money back. A cent spent on you was a waste, least of all
millions. Anyway, rise, Sasha.”

Sasha rose up before
her, his naked body tantalizingly close, the both of them now stripped bare by
the Black Russian’s will.

“Kneel in front of
him, Andriena.”

She lowered herself
to her knees, her gaze instantly locking onto Sasha’s crotch. Sasha shifted his
hands over it, mirroring what she’d done.

“Remove his hands,
Andriena,” the Black Russian said. “I want you to give him a blowjob.”

Sasha shot away from
her. “She’s not sucking me! You said you’d turn me into a eunuch if I had sex
with another woman.”

“According to
President Clinton, blowjobs aren’t sex,” the Black Russian smiled.

“So, I’m allowed
one?” Sasha asked.

“I feel rather
insulted that you actually look hopeful, Sasha. I’ve offered to blow you, yet you
always turn me down.”

“How many times do I
have to tell you I like women?”

“Several hundred
times more. Though, why do you look like you want a blowjob desperately? After
all, I’ll be watching.”

Sasha didn’t reply,
his expression once more uncomfortable.

The Black Russian
remained silent too, his pale blue gaze now fixated on Sasha. He was staring at
him as though he was searching his mind, trying to find out what he was
thinking. “Did your ex ever give you a blowjob?” he finally asked.

Sasha shook his head.

The Black Russian’s
eyebrows shot up. “So, you’ve never had a woman suck on your cock?”

Sasha nodded, his
cheeks lighting up again.

The Black Russian snorted,
sounding surprised. “Well, I didn’t expect this, but then again, your ex was
rather a selfish woman. I bet she got you to get her off, but didn’t return the
favor.”

Sasha remained silent,
his clenched hands telling Andriena he was holding back a torrent of abuse.

The Black Russian
continued, “So, will you allow Andriena to blow you?”

“As long as she’s
willing and I get to keep my remaining ball,” Sasha replied.

“In this instance I’ll
allow it, so say thank you.”