“Let’s do this.”
My legs stepped down on the floor, and Roman’s hand held mine. The flash from the bulbs was many now. The lights were blinding, but I was used to them now.
“This way,” a guard said, and we walked on the red carpet. The paparazzi spoke in loud voices.
“Can you just strike a pose for us, please? A little to the left. Hold your hip. Turn around, turn around,” they said, and their voices were impossible to ignore. All I did was smile and stand close to Roman.
“Look at his face!” They said, almost like an order, and I did anyway. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Roman smiled while he looked at me. He seemed happy, and I loved the feeling of being the reason for his smile. Regardless of anything, this was enough to show the world that we were already a power couple. The thought brought a tingle to my belly.
“This way, please,” the guard gesture and we walked away from the flashbulbs.
While inside, more flashbulbs showed up, but this time, it was only a few. Waitresses walked to and fro, holding up trays of champagne which fizzed in the flutes.
I straightened out my off-the-shoulder, emerald green sequin gown with plush feathers that tickled me from time to time. It was long-sleeved, just the way I liked. I knew the reason people turned their heads was to catch a glimpse of me.
“Champagne?” A waitress stood in front of us, and I stretched my right hand to pick up a glass. Roman pushed my hand down, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“No, we’re fine,” he said, and I giggled at his care for me. He’d become my shield now, managing my time and health. Indeed, he looked like a prince, and there was no doubt that we were both the stars of the gala. I knew that both the Russian and American presses were going to eat this up. I saw the headlines already.
“From Charity Princess to Bratva Bride.”
“Right this way.” The guard said again, and we walked forward, passing through the purple curtains, which were the entrance of the ballroom.
Above me were glittering chandeliers that danced in the yellow light. My gown shimmered, and I looked at Roman's face shining bright through it all.
Suddenly, I felt a slight exhaustion, which made my hands shake. Roman's eyes looked carefully to the left and to the right, calculating, noticing, piercing through the crowd with caution. Roman wasn’t a figurehead. No, I had been with him long enough to know this much about him. He wasn’t only trying to protect me; he was protecting himself, too, and his courage wasn’t a show. It was more real than anything I’d seen.
He placed his hands on the small of my back, and I felt calm. He looked at me and smiled.
In front of us was a gilded mirror. We stood side by side, and I doubted Roman noticed it.
“Wow,” I said in a small whisper.
“What?”
“It’s nothing,” I replied to Roman. “I just exhaled.”
“You’re sure you’re fine?”
“Yes,” I nodded my head and looked back at the mirror in admiration. We really were a couple, and I hadn’t realized how good we looked together. His aura matched mine. And the more I kept looking at us, the more strongly I felt about him, about us. I came to understand that Roman wasn’t a man who had no clue what he was doing. He was an intentional man, and being at this gala made me like him even more.
“We look good together,” he said, finally looking at our reflection in the mirror. I smiled because his voice broke me, and I felt so good about it.
***********
Later that night, we arrived back at our room in the mansion, and I kissed him, hard. Roman removed his blazer, and I tried to unzip my gown, but my body wouldn’t let me. I wanted to enjoy all of him. I wanted to feel him inside me. Yet, it seemed as though I couldn’t get enough of him, and Roman walked forward with his gaze steady on mine. His left hand held my face, and his right dropped low on my waist.
“Are you alright?” He asked. His breath steadied, yet mine rose, and I nodded my head.
“I’m fine,” I said. I knew he asked because he was scared of hurting me since I was still undergoing treatment from Alina.
He took a step back and moved forward so I could lean on his body. His hands moved to my cheeks, and he raised my head to his. His green eyes now brighter in the white light.
It was silent for a while. And in the silence came tension. In the tension came passion, and that passion, I believe, was what made him kiss me with such raw intensity. It built up slowly and then escalated. Roman nipped my neck, I drew his hand to my breast and let him press it, play with it. This night wasn’t about me, I thought. This was about us, and I enjoyed every bit of it.
He moved me to the bed and kept kissing me all over. I was surprised when he went down on me. I felt the curl on my toes, I tousled my hair, feeling the raw passion of sexual pleasure. The way he touched me made me want to scream. I grabbed a handful of the sheets, but that wasn’t enough, so I pressed on his hair, and he returned to plant his lips on mine.
“I want you,” I whispered to him. He stood up, and I watched him undo the buttons of his shirt. I helped to unbuckle his belt, and then I felt his hardness ready to spring forth. I took off my gown at the same time, and we were both naked.
