Shame: Russo Saga - Book Three by Martin Nicolina

Author:Martin, Nicolina
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2019-06-13T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

The door opens and a thin sliver of light from the hallway falls on the floor. A shadow I recognize as Ivan looms in the doorway.

I can’t see his eyes, his face is shaded, but I know he can see mine. Fresh tears are still falling. Every little move I make stings.

He walks up to me and crouches next to the bed, looking me over. Tilting his head, he pushes the mess of hair off my face and tucks the strands behind my ear. He frowns and then begins to free my wrists and ankles from the straps. I glance over my shoulder at the sleeping Salvatore, then back at Ivan. He gives me his hand and pulls me up.

I wince and bury my teeth in my lip to stay quiet.

Ivan looks me over, his eyes as unreadable as ever, but a muscle in his jaw keeps clenching. In one move he pulls off his T-shirt and hands it to me. I stand like an idiot, holding the fabric, looking between the shirt and Ivan. He motions for me to put it on, so I make quick work with pulling it over my head. It falls to mid-thigh. It’s gigantic. I look up at Ivan, and I don’t know why I ever thought anything else, but he is a very well-built man. Broad around the waist, pure muscle, like a boxer. I always thought he was bulky, maybe a bit heavy, but there’s not an ounce of extra fat on his body. In his own brutish way, flat and broken nose and all, he’s really handsome.

He takes a careful hold of my arm and pulls me out of the room, into the too-bright corridor, before he closes the door to the torture chamber that is Salvatore’s bedroom.

“Can you walk, Carmen?”

I look at my naked feet, my ankles red and chafed, traces of dried cum along the insides of my legs.

Ivan follows my gaze.

“I… I need a break,” I whisper and sway, the walls around us tilting.

“Come here.”

He scoops me up and cradles me like a baby to his warm broad chest. It hurts where he touches me, but I steel myself against the ache in my back. It’s no use showing him the state I’m in. He already knows it. He’s got a thick carpet of blond chest hair and he smells of cologne, a little on the heavy side, but not unpleasant. I wonder what he’s doing here. I wonder if he’s as evil as Salvatore. He’s given me the odd glance of pity, something no other man in this place has done.

“You can just call a cab.” My voice is barely audible, but in the dead silent house it carries anyway.

Ivan scoffs. “The driver is waiting for you outside.”

My chest clenches. It hurts more than any cane ever did, knowing I’ll have to face Lucas with who I am, with what I let these people do to me.

Too soon, we’re at the entrance door.

“Want me to carry you to the car?”

“No! It’s all right.

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