His eyes lift, wild and stormy.
Finally, they focus.
Our mouths crash together with a desperate, starving force. His grip on me is almost painful, but I cling back. My fingers slide into his black hair. His breath mixes with mine. His growl vibrates through my ribs.
When he pulls away, his voice cracks.
“I am sorry, moyá devushka.”
“Why?” My thumb strokes the edge of his jaw.
He sucks in a breath, still shaking. “That woman touched me. Whispered filth in my ear. My mind snapped. I saw everything disappear. You. Us. I felt our marriage unravel. I could not breathe.”
His pulse hammers beneath my fingertips. His chest rises and falls too fast and sharp. Then he grabs a chair, lifts it effortlessly, and smashes it against the tiled wall. Wood splinters and scatters across the gold.
I jump but close the distance immediately, palms on his chest.
“You are okay. We are okay. I love you. Nobody can tear us apart except us.”
He drags his hands down his face, eyes squeezed shut. “You do not understand. My parents… they had a fall out. Infidelity. Betrayal. Fire. Screaming. It destroyed everything.”
I swallow hard.
The urge to confess about my mother claws up my throat, but Keira’s warning pulses like a bruise. There is something about her that bleeds through my anger about Brutus. So I bury it.
“We will never be your parents. Whatever fire they created, we smother it.”
He opens his eyes.
The storm softens.
“Is that why you spiral? Your parents’ sins?” I ask.
“Da. I still hear their screaming.”
Hestillhears his mom and dad. They must be the voices. It’s heartbreaking.
“Thank you for telling me,” I whisper.
He gazes into my eyes, stoic, but the calmness is grounding. He trusts me.
Without thinking, I slip my dress straps down my shoulders. My dress slides over my hips and puddles at my ankles. For a heartbeat, he is motionless.
Then his pupils dilate.
I back toward the pool. When I reach the edge, I dive in, the thrill rushing through me. I surface, flicking my wet hair back, smiling at him in the soft glow. “Come get me, baby.”
He watches me like a wolf sighting prey in moonlight.
Slowly, he undresses. Jacket. Shirt. Belt. Slacks. Each movement precise. Controlled. Sexy. The muscles of his torso ripple under the cool lights. Broad shoulders taper into a tight waist. Scars twist across his back and ribs like pale lightning bolts. He is terrifying and beautiful.
And mine.
He descends the steps into the pool, water sliding up his muscled thighs. His gaze never leaves mine. When he reaches me, he lifts my body easily, positioning me back-flat on the warm pool deck, my legs dangle softly in the water.
His breath brushes my thigh. He spreads me with a sinful patience that makes my toes curl. He palms my ample cheeks.
“Gustav…”
