Page 29 of A Bride for the Mafia King

He finishes doctoring the wound in silence. Then without warning, scoops me up into his arms and starts down the hall.

“Tolya —” I start, voice reflecting my surprise.

But he doesn’t stop, carrying me down the hall, his jaw locked tight. I don’t struggle against him. The warmth of his body feels wonderful against me. This feels different.

Pushing the door to our bedroom open with his elbow, he enters, then uses his foot to kick it shut behind us. Moving to the bed, he sits on the edge, settling me in his lap, his arms moving to wrap around me like he never wants to let go.

“I don’t do these things to hurt you,” he says, finally meeting my eyes, moving one hand to stroke the loose strands of my hair. “But I can’t protect this alliance if I’m blinded by you either.”

His words settle between us and I can’t think of anything to say in response. But the way he looks at me now, like I'll be both his ruin and his reason, that sets something off deep inside me.

Without a word I lean into him, catching his face in my hands, brushing my mouth against his tentatively. To my surprise he doesn't hesitate—doesn’t even pretend to resist his desires.

The kiss turns possessive, fast, wild. Like he’s starved for me. Like I’m the only thing anchoring him to this world. His hands are everywhere—threading into my hair, gripping my hips, dragging me tighter into him until there’s no space left to think. Only to feel.

Our clothes come off in frantic tugs, tossed aside without care. And he settles me onto the bed on my back. Hovering over me as he explores, his mouth moves along my collarbone, my throat, my chest—like he’s memorizing me with his tongue.

“I need you,” I tell him, my voice husky, “now.”

He smiles up at me from where he is showering kisses along my hip bone. Before nipping the soft tender spot close to my center.

“Oh?” he says coyly. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

I bury my hands in his hair and pull hard, wanting any part of him. He growls low in his throat and when I look at him again I grin. He likes it. I move as if to get up but he places one large hand on my chest and pushes me back down on the bed.

To my surprise he leans back his lips moving from my body, I whimper at the loss of contact. Eyes wide as he grabs my wrists in one hand, forcing my hands behind my head in one swift movement.

“You,” he growls, inches from my face, eyes alight with desire, “don’t touch. Right now I do all the touching.”

I don’t respond, just stare at him with elation, my heart pounding in my chest as he unbuckles his belt with his other hand. Pulling it free of the loops before wrapping it tightly around my wrists and securing the buckle again.

I close my eyes and let my head lull back as he resumes his passionate assault on my body. But the moment doesn’t last, one of his hands grasps my hair and pulls. My eyes open wide at the mix of pleasure and pain.

“No.” He reprimands with a grin. “I want to look at you. I want to see, not just feel, you writhing in pleasure beneath me.”

The tone of his voice and the words themselves make me instantly wetter my core aching for him. He runs his hand down my body until he reaches my soft folds, teasing lightly, then lifting his hand to his mouth and sucking on his finger. Wetting them before returning them to my entrance, he pushes one, then two, fingers into me.

But he doesn’t stop there, he works his two fingers inside of me for a long moment before adding a third. I gasp slightly and grip the bedsheet, unsure if the pressure is painful or pleasurable. He works his three fingers in and out of me, twisting this way and that way so each time it’s a brand new sensation.

It doesn’t take him long to push me over the edge and I moan as my back arches and I see stars. The feeling of cumming on his hand is both glorious and humiliating.

He laughs low, pulling his finger from me and licking them. Tasting me on his hand. I can feel the blush rise over my cheeks as I watch him intently.

“Now,” he says with a smirk and a tilt of his head, “you are ready for me.”

He drops his boxers to the floor and for the first time I get a real look at his engorged length.

Oh my.

It’s impressive, beautiful in a way I can't quite describe. So engorged is he that I can see the veins beneath the surface, all leading to his perfectly shaped head.

He settles between my legs, teasing me for a moment longer as he rubs that head against me.

“Tease.”

“I’m sorry. Is this what you want instead?” he asks as he suddenly pushes himself inside me halfway. With another hard thrust he is all the way in me, forcing my walls to stretch to accommodate him. “Or is it this?”