Page 177 of Anton

“Anton, oh God…”

“Vot tak. Umnitsa.” That’s it. Good girl.

In our time together, I’ve learned a little Russian, and my favorite words will always be the dirty ones.

His thumb circles my clit while his pace turns relentless, keeping me balanced on the edge until one final thrust sends pleasure crashing through me. My body tightens around him in pulsing waves, and he follows soon after, holding himself fully inside me as he drags me close.

He lowers us onto the blanket without letting me go, keeping me tucked against him while the lavender sways around us. With his palm resting over the life we created, I know I will never have to face the world alone again. But Anton has taught me something far more important without ever needing to say it. He taught me what love truly means.

The man who was sent to end my life has become the reason it finally began.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

ANTON

THREE WEEKS LATER

I never thought I’d have this. A woman who loves and accepts me for who I am and what I’m capable of giving. But Thora is all that and more.

As I stand at the altar on her family’s estate in Texas, waiting for her to walk down the aisle and officially become my wife, I feel a strange pressure behind my ribs that takes me too long to name.

Happiness.

It’s a dangerous thing, because once a man knows what it feels like, he also knows exactly what he can lose.

I spent my life avoiding anything that could become a weapon against me. Then Thora Whitlock walked into my path, looked at my scars, and decided I was worth loving anyway.

My brothers stand off to the side, dressed in black tuxedos. A smug look rests on Aleksei’s face.

“Just know…” he whispers. “I will never let you live this down.”

I elbow him, and he groans, chuckling as Konstantin gazes between us with a hint of a smile. Lev stands beside me as the ring bearer, holding my hand with one of his while the other clutches the small black box containing our rings. He glances over at his father, who looks at him proudly, giving him a wink.

Greer stands on the other side with Blair next to her, who has sort of come around to me marrying her friend. She gives me a warning glare, like she’s saying hurt her and I’ll end you.

If I hurt Thora, I’ll save her the trouble.

The string quartet begins playing, and everyone rises. My attention moves to the end of the aisle.

Then she appears with her father beside her, and every thought in my head disappears.

Thora walks toward me in a strapless lace dress that hugs her body before falling softly around her legs, her dark waves swept back from her face, eyes pinned to mine as if no one else exists.

Her mother wipes tears away while Harlan walks her forward, beaming with the kind of pride I once would have found unbearable and now almost understand.

I stand corrected. This is happiness: watching her walk toward me, knowing she’s choosing me.

When she reaches the altar, Harlan places her hand in mine and keeps his palm over our joined hands, his expression turning solemn as he silently entrusts her to me.

“Take care of my girl.”

“I will.”

His eyes remain on mine, making sure I understand the weight of that promise, before he kisses Thora’s cheek and steps back.

I turn to her, and my chest gets tight all over again. “You’re beautiful.”

Her smile trembles. “You look handsome. Though you don’t seem as nervous as I thought you would be,” she whispers, eyes glittering as she looks up at me. “And just FYI, I expected you to cry when you saw me.”