He bites my bottom lip and tugs on it.
“It’s time I worship my queen.”
He picks me up and sits me on the edge of our desk. His hands pull down my pants, taking my thong with them. My shoes are thrown over his shoulder, then my bottoms follow. Once I’m bare from the waist-down, he kneels before me.
“I’ve dreamt of doing this. I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without tasting you.” He inhales deeply then attacks.
His tongue collects my wetness as he devours me. He isn’t gentle or patient. No, not my husband. He’s ruthless and relentless as he inhales me. His need for me overpowers him. It’s noisy and messy and fucking euphoric.
All too soon, I’m tipping over the edge. I expect reprieve, but my husband’s never gone easy on me before, and he doesn’t go easy on me now. He continues his feast as he demands more orgasms from me.
I can’t help but revel in my life. The arranged marriage to the enemy has turned into this.
Chapter 43
Katerina
The dentist’s office door swings shut behind me as I walk down the street towards the parking lot. Nik brought me to my semiannual cleaning. It’s been a long time since I’ve left the compound, so I’m not used to walking around, which is why I’m not alert when a black car with tinted windows pulls up in front of me.
Not until the doors open, and armed men flood out. They move synchronously as they ambush me. One grabs me from behind. As I try to escape his grasp, another grabs my legs. Despite my struggle, they’re able to throw me into the backseat of the car and slam the door shut. I lunge for the door, but the child lock is on.
“Quit your dramatics, Katya. This is not how I raised you to act,” an all too familiar voice says.
Chills run down my spine. My head whips to the person on the other side of the backseat until I’m facing Viktor. I fight the urge to launch myself at him. Even though I don’t have any of my weapons on me, I know I could land a few strikes. Butattacking him won’t do me any good with his guards surrounding us.
“What do you want?” I grit out. I’m done pretending for him. I’m not the Bratva princess he gave to Dominic. I have become a strong woman capable of defending herself.
“I want your cooperation, damn it! You haven’t responded to any of my calls or messages. Tell me what you’ve discovered!” Viktor doesn’t even pretend to be composed. But his fury doesn’t deter me.
“No.”
Even the narrowing of his eyes, a clear indicator of abuse to come, doesn’t compel me to comply. I won’t betray my husband. I won’t betray my Syndicate.
“Oh, so you think you’re special. You think he cares for you.” He throws back his head and lets out a bone chilling cackle. “Naïve girl. All your worth is your cunt. And even that’s replaceable.”
“Maybe to you, but not to Dominic!” My fists clench at my side. Unlike Dominic, if I hit him, he’ll hit me back. But it would be worth it.
“Bullshit. What could he possibly have done to convince you of that?” His disbelief is written all over his face. He thinks I’m so naïve that I’d believe anything. But he’s wrong.
“He inducted me into the Syndicate!” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re a mistake. Him possessing that knowledge can only mean trouble.
“Ah, so you have been following my mission. And here I thought you were useless.” He’s testing me with his words. He doesn’t expect me to deny them; the Bratva Princess never would’ve. But I’m not her anymore.
“No, I won’t do your bidding. I’m not your little doll that you control anymore. I’m the Syndicate Queen.” Words that sounded so fierce in my head fall flat.
Viktor laughs darkly, actually taking amusement in them.
“‘The Syndicate Queen!’”He cackles, mocking me. “You stupid whore. You were barely able to be the Bratva Princess, and all that demanded was being pretty and silent.”
“You don’t know who I’ve become! I’m capable of leading by his side!” I all but shout the words at him. I’m losing control, grasping at straws. This isn’t how I foresaw our confrontation going.
“You think he could ever trust my progeny? You’ll never be anything but Bratva in his eyes.” There’s curiosity in his, and I can’t tell if he’s confident in his words.
“He doesn’t see me that way. He knows I was never involved with your little organization. That’s why he trusts me enough to be in the Syndicate.” The words are closer to a plea than a statement.
“You truly believe when he finds out you were sent to betray him, he’ll understand? That he’ll forgive you?”
A pit forms in my stomach.
