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She’s going to be the end of me.
“No,” she lies, and it looks like it’s a struggle. Her face pinches, stress filling her lovely eyes. “Of course, I didn’t like it.”
I arch a brow. “Is that so?”
Again, with that curt nod. Again, I want to roar with laughter.
“Indeed.”
Fuck, she’s adorable.
“I think you’re lying,” I say. She sniffs. It’s adorably petulant. “I think I should see for myself.”
She blinks. Then she frowns. “See for yourself?”
I drop my face to hers, stroking her temple, and into her rose-scented hair with the blade of my nose. She smells as lovely as she tastes. I pull back, a rumble in my chest.
My voice pitches low. “Are you wet for me, wife?”
She blinks again. Three quick blinks. And then her lovely face pales of her blush.
She breathes. “What?”
“Between your legs. Is your pussy wet for me?”
She makes to cover her face again, but I capture her wrists between one hand at her chest. Her eyes widen and she wiggles beneath me. “Get off, Kirill.”
“Answer me.”
She clamps her lips closed, releasing a hot puff of breath from her nose. I almost imagine her blowing smoke.
My little wife is pissed.
I grin.
When she remains stubbornly silent, I murmur darkly, “Fair enough. I’d prefer to see for myself, anyway.”
Her eyes flash with fear. “What?”
I release her waist, moving my hand slowly south. Panic flares, and she begins to struggle against me. Her sudden strength surprises me when she tears her wrists from my grip, landing a sloppy punch to my jaw. I rear back between her legs enough to catch her flailing wrists, my laughter spilling an unhinged sound that has her whimpering as I pin her hands above her head with one of my own.
Looking down into her angry eyes, I can’t resist tasting her lips again. The pull of this woman is unlike anything I’ve experienced. She shatters my ironclad control.
My kiss isn’t soft and exploratory when I cover her mouth with mine. This time, it’s rough, and commanding, and instantly deep. When she bites my lip, I laugh into her mouth before returning the favor, but kinder. She whimpers in response, her body shuddering beneath mine before I soothe her lip with the tip of my tongue. And then I take her mouth again, this time, when I sink deep, stroking her tongue, her teeth, nipping her lip, she moans a moan of weak protest and reluctant need. She’s a quick learner, because she’s kissing me back now. Nearly meeting my fervor.
With her swollen breasts heaving against my chest, the pebbled points of her nipples teasing me, I push my free hand down between our bodies to her hot sex. Pulling the fabric of my shirt up from where it covers her, I feel her suddenly trying to break the kiss—to shatter this moment. I don’t let her, deepening the kiss as my hand quickly works to dip beneath the elastic of her panties. And then I’m shoving my hand between her thighs, feeling her slick heat.
I murmur in pleased triumph against her lips, “So wet, wife.”
Emotion spills from every part of her, scenting the room in arousal, and wonder, and fear and—“I hate you.” The words rattle from the depths of her. “I hate you so much, Kirill. With every part of me.”
I give her sweet pussy a lazy stroke that has her entire body twitching beneath mine, her body betraying her mind as she moans. Her heels dig in the bed, pushing to escape my touch. I grin, even as her words pluck at a conscience I’ve long since done my very best to shove down deep, where the painful prick-like blade of its lashing can’t wound me.
I’ve crossed a line, I’m aware. And yet, I’m also aware there is no turning back. Apologies will only give her a false sense of how this marriage between us will go. My conscience will do nothing to serve the remaining fragments of the sin-shrouded soul I harbor deep inside. I’d made the vow long ago to never again be weak, a lesson I’d learned and paid for in blood. I learned to let the predator in me thrive, coaxing his unnatural existence within me and nurturing it until I became like them. Like the Volkov men who came before me, and those who came after.
But she makes me want to remember. She makes me want to be soft, if only for her.
Slowly, with her honey eyes trained on mine, I pull my hand from her panties. Heat flares in her cheeks and chest, a lovely shade of pink to complement the red of her hair, as she watches me lift my hand to my lips, pushing the finger slick with her arousal into my mouth.
