Debase Read online Rachel Van Dyken (Elite Bratva Brotherhood #1)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Elite Bratva Brotherhood Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
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Because I would have given anything to be able to do that to my brother for laying his hands on me, for daring touch what wasn’t his.

I didn’t realize how much I wanted vengeance.

No… revenge.

Until Andrei led me back down the hall and into the apartment.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “Good.”

I nodded.

“You’re afraid,” he added after another minute. “Even better.”

“No,” I said quickly.

“No?” he repeated, hesitating briefly before putting his hands on my shoulders and turning me toward him. “Is this your first lie?”

“Not scared.” I exhaled roughly and met his gaze. “You gave me his tongue.”

Andrei nodded slowly.

“If I asked for his still beating heart?”

He showed no surprise as he said. “Consider it done.”

“And if I wanted to do the honors?”

“I’d hand you the fucking knife.”

“That would be murder.”

“No,” he whispered harshly. “That would be justice.”

I kissed him then, stood up on my tiptoes and crushed my mouth against his. He was warm, every hard part of his body.

He pulled me into his arms, pressing me against the counter top as he deepened the kiss, digging his hands into my hair, the same hands that had just tortured another human being.

Maybe I was as depraved as he was.

Maybe he’d awakened something inside me.

Because I wasn’t sorry.

No. I wanted more.

Because I was on the other side.

And for once, I was empowered.

No longer the victim.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Andrei

The room crackled and hissed around me. It laughed at my pain while she kissed it away.

She should run.

I warned Chase’s wife.

Told her to run.

Now it was my turn.

To tell her that she was kissing poison.

Getting too close.

I slid my tongue into her mouth. I tasted, I took, I was greedy with each kiss. With blood on my hands, I held her.

With death in my soul, I drank from her.

With the devil in my heart, I coveted her.

I wanted closer.

More.

My gloves felt too hot for my hands.

My hands too big to contain the weeping leather as I pulled away from Alice and stared into her big blue eyes.

“You don’t want this,” I whispered.

She bit down on her swollen lip and reached for me, I stood still as her warm hands touched both of my cheeks. “Lie.”

I let out a hiss of air at her touch. “Walk. Away.”

“Kiss me again.”

“I can’t do that.” I needed to stop doing that.

“Can’t or won’t?”

I told myself one more kiss, one more touch. I told myself it would be okay, that I was still in control.

That I was above this.

That no woman had ever owned me.

No woman had ever taken everything.

My chest heaved as I stared at her mouth, unable to move, completely rooted to the floor.

Alice moved her hands to my jeans and slowly unbuttoned them. I didn’t stop her, I needed to fucking stop her, but it was like I’d drank this paralyzing poison from her lips and couldn’t function, could only watch her as my soul floated above my body, mocking my inaction, telling me that this would be the end of me.

The very end.

Letting her in.

Keeping her there.

I would give her everything.

And then I would lose control.

Lose my mind.

Lose my heart.

I would lose.

So would she.

“Alice…” My voice cracked. “I wish…” Her hands stilled on my jeans like she was ready to pull them down. “I can’t. I wish I could. I can’t.”

How could she possibly understand?

How could I explain the gut-wrenching fear of looking in the mirror and knowing that one choice kept me sane. One choice.

And that was sex.

He’d made that choice.

I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t trust myself, couldn’t trust it wouldn’t happen to me too, and hurt someone like her.

Someone so very… perfect.

Without blinking, Alice gripped my jeans, indecision etched on every pretty part of her face.

She was beautiful.

So damn beautiful.

I gripped her wrists with my hands and pulled them away from the very real temptation of getting completely naked and sinking into her, feeling her clench around me, her tight heat.

Shit.

I pulled her into my arms, and she rested her head on my shoulder. Just because I couldn’t let her touch me, couldn’t cross that line, didn’t mean I couldn’t make her happy, I would kill to watch her face in the throes of multiple orgasms.

I quickly gripped her by the hips and put her up on the cold granite countertop.

“Andrei what are you doing?” She looked down at me uncertainty in her blue eyes.

I moved my hands to her ass and pulled down the black leggings she’d been wearing, all the way down to her ankles, right along with a pair of lacy underwear that were bright pink, and perfect.

“Andrei?”

“Yes?”

“Seriously, what are you doing?”

I gripped her knees with my hands and then spread them wide. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” I smirked. “I’m feasting.”

Her eyes widened.

Never underestimate a virgin with an extremely vivid imagination and heightened sexual appetite.

I wasn’t a fucking monk.

I would like to think I knew more than most men, because I’d seen it all, watched it, inadvertently studied it.


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