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“We’re married.” My cheeks burn as I glance down at my almost naked body, wiggling my hips to try and entice my new husband into bed. “You vowed to satisfy my every sexual need.”
Alexei huffs a laugh, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.
My nipples instantly harden as he takes a step toward me, his eyes burning into me as he takes in my curves.
“I did,” he grunts, his hands moving to adjust his bulge.
I let my eyes follow his hand and gasp at the view.
“Well?” I press, my voice breathy as I rub my thighs together.
“While I’d want nothing more, ptichka, you have some issues to work out before we take things further. So, I suggest we both get some sleep.”
The little nicknames he calls me do something to me, and I want more from him.
“You’re not serious.” I cross my arms over my chest to try and shield myself.
“I’m deadly serious.”
“There’s a naked woman practically throwing herself at you, and you’re saying no?”
Alexei’s eyes close for a moment, as if it’s taking everything in him to keep himself composed.
I try to ignore the dull ache that is building between my thighs as I take in his huge stature.
The way he’s rolled his white shirt to the elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. How he’s undone one too many buttons to reveal a hint of dark chest hair that has my mouth watering.
He opens his eyes and takes another step toward me and bends down so that his breath is tickling my ear.
My back instantly arches, my nipples aching for any form of friction he can offer me.
“I am no stranger to that fact, ptichka, but you are now my wife,” he murmurs. “And I refuse to use you when you are in a vulnerable state, especially to satisfy my own need for release.”
A strangled sound escapes me at his words, filling my mind with all sorts of filthy thoughts.
I’m no virgin by any means, but my experience consists of a few sloppy one-night stands in various Manhattan club bathrooms, a summer fling during my sophomore year of college, and a yearlong relationship with a guy who ended up cheating on me with one of my friends.
The boys I’ve been with barely know how to put on a condom correctly, let alone get a woman off. I need a man.
I need Alexei.
He reeks of experience, and I know he’d need no guidance in getting me off.
“Now, don’t make me tell you again, get some sleep.”
My cheeks burn at his rejection.
I guess part of me was wanting to have some ounce of control over how this day ended, seeing as the rest of it was so far out of it. But as the alcohol is starting to wear off, and I realize I’m wearing nothing but a pair of panties in front of a man I met only a few hours ago who also happens to be my husband, I feel nothing but embarrassment.
“I’ll take the couch,” I mutter, walking past Alexei into the bedroom.
His eyes weigh on me as I grab my bag that has been put on the armchair and start rifling through it for something to put on before going to bed.
“There’s no need for you to sleep on the couch.”
I keep my back to Alexei as I pull an old college T-shirt on over my head and slide a pair of cotton shorts over my thighs, only because I don’t want him to look at me like I’m some juvenile charity case.
“Well, it’s more than obvious we’re not sharing a bed.” I adjust my T-shirt before turning to face him.
