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I’ve decided I’m definitely not waiting until tonight to consummate this marriage while teaching my wife a few lessons in manners and who’s in charge!
Chapter 3
ISABELLA
I feel instant heat pool in my nether regions when I can all but feel the rich, sexy chuckle rise in his chest in unison with the prominent bulge in his pants. It takes everything I have not to wiggle or squirm to try and dull the pulse I feel as my pussy gets juicy like it’s drooling over his cock.
While I may dislike the man, I can’t deny how much I want him, but then again, he is the only man I’ve had sex with, so it’s probably natural my body responds the way it does to him. Like a person with an addiction, having had my first exhilarating shot of sex, I want more, and right now, Andrey’s the only dealer in town.
I take a few more steps back and bump into the large oak desk as Andrey strides toward me. His eyes are dark with intent. He stops in front of me just far enough that I can feel his heat, but we’re not touching. And I so want those hands to touch me, but I’ll be damned if I let him know that.
Andrey’s eyes hold mine, and it feels like he’s trying to see into my soul as he stares at me for what seems like minutes rather than seconds. I can feel my heart racing and my nipples tighten as my body responds to the scent of his intoxicating cologne while I fight to keep from being drawn in by his heated gaze and let down my carefully constructed guard.
Andrey reaches out and runs the back of his hand down my face. “You are so beautiful, Isabella, and I want you by my side as my queen.” His voice is deep, soft, and a little hoarse, but there’s no doubt about the steel behind them. “Now that my father is stepping down, it means I will be Pakhan. As my wife, you will share in that power and wear the crown with me. So, I need you to understand this, Isabella. Your loyalty and strength are not just desired—they are required.”
I keep my emotions in check as best I can while trying to ignore the swelling desire his proximity is causing as I reply. “I understand.”
But he’s not fucking getting me to stand here and pledge my loyalty to him or the dark, sordid world he lives in. This is not the life I choose, and it’s not the life I’d bring a child into because I grew up on the outskirts of this life, and that was bad enough. I can only imagine what a child born into it would go through.
“Why are you being so stubborn, princess?” Andrey doesn’t move and holds me with his penetrating stare.
“I have no idea what you mean. I’ve done what has been required of me,” I tell him, raising my brows and putting on my best ignorant look. “I told you I understand, and I do. I’m required to be your queen and stand by your side.” I nod. “I don’t see how that is being stubborn.”
I can’t help but glance out the windows at the bright morning outside, and in my mind, I picture him as Dracula about to bite into my neck and make me a part of his dark world where I’ll never be able to enjoy the light of day again.
“I’m now part of the dark underworld—your world!” I turn what I hope is a blank stare back at him. “The criminal underworld.”
Andrey’s eyes narrow as he observes me. “My world?” He gives a soft laugh. “Oh, princess, your father really has kept you in the dark. This isn’t just my world. It’s our world.”
“You don’t have to rub it in my face how my father sold me to the devil and betrayed me,” I say, raising my chin as I feel the stabbing pain in my heart once again from my father’s betrayal. That wound is still extremely fresh, and I don’t need salt to be tossed on it to remind me it’s still painful. “But this is not my world. While I might be forced to live in it, I will never accept it as such.”
Andrey takes a step closer, and now his body is pressing against mine, which like the little horny bitch traitor it is, my body once again feels the instant desire ignite in all my erogenous zones. He takes my chin between his fingers, tilting my head backward to meet his steely ones.
“Sweetheart, whether you accept it or not, it’s in your blood.” Andrey’s words have my eyes widening in bewilderment.
“No,” I say, shaking my head while something nags at the back of my mind. A memory I can’t wedge out from the tight crack it’s been pushed into. “My father may defend the likes of your family and walk on the outskirts of this life you lead, but he is not one of you—I am not one of you.”
For days, I have been wondering about how my father would’ve benefited from this alliance between my family and the Belovs. It has made no sense to me. I could understand him trying to match me with a rival law firm’s son or another wealthy Italian family.
But why promise me, virginity and all, to a Russian mob boss’s son? And since I was a toddler—did my father get Ivan Belov to spin fucking straw into gold? Then promise the man his firstborn daughter?
My father’s motivations are a mystery to me, but Andrey’s intentions are crystal clear. His dark eyes bore into mine. I feel the weight of his desire pressing against me. He’s a man who takes what he wants, and right now, he wants me.
“You really don’t know, do you, princess?” Andrey’s voice is a low, seductive rumble sending shivers down my spine. His hips grind against mine, teasing my aching core. The bastard knows how well he can command my body. “I think it’s time you learned the truth about your place in all of this.”
Before I can respond, his lips claim mine in a bruising kiss, stealing my breath away. His hands grip my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the desk, and our bodies tangle together. There’s a primal hunger in his touch, a commanding possession that makes my head spin.
I know he’s making his claim and pressing the point—I’m his to do with as he pleases, and I will obey! The realization hits me with a rush of both fear and exhilaration—I’m married to Andrey. My mind whirls with confusing thoughts that are spinning off into a black hole. Andrey deepens the kiss, making it hard for me to think.
I am well aware that he intends to claim every inch of me, to make me his in the most intimate of ways. What has me reeling and my mind in a cloud of confusion is this feeling stirring in a dark recess of my soul—I want to obey and be devoured by him.
Andrey’s lips trailed down my neck, eliciting a gasp from my parted lips. “You belong to me now, Isabella,” he growls, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Until death do us part. And every day for the rest of our lives, I’m going to make sure you never forget it.” He nips my ear. “Today was the last time I let you get away with the kind of behavior you displayed at the altar.”
My weak flesh betrays me, and I arch into his touch. His hands cup my breasts through my satin gown. This weak part of me wants nothing more than to melt into and accept this as my destiny, to be consumed by the ruthless Bratva boss. His touch has the power to melt away all reason from my brain.
But there is still a part of me that has tasted freedom, even fleetingly, for a couple of hours, and it refuses to let anyone hold my fate in their hands ever again. Not even one as goddamn gorgeous and sexy as Andrey Belov.
He has the power to make me wet, achy, and yearn just by a look of his silvery eyes, but he can’t keep in a lust-filled fog twenty-four hours a day. There is still the rational part of me that has tasted freedom and wants more of it.
