My one chance to salvage the ember of humanity I’d thought had burned out long ago.
She’d saved me without even knowing it, breathed life back into me.
I carried her to my bed—ourbed now—yanking the covers back with one hand and tucking her beneath them. Then I slid in behind her, spooning her close and pressing my chest to her damp back. I locked my arm around her waist as though I could anchor her there forever.
She murmured something in her sleep before drifting deeper. Reverently, I brushed her hair from her face and glided my knuckles down her arm as I memorized every curve I now owned.
She was the perfect fit for me. My light in all this darkness.
Bending my head, I breathed her in and made the only vow I would ever keep without question.
From the moment I first saw you, I needed to know more. Not wanted—needed. You became my compulsion, my answer to questions I didn’t know I was asking. I’ve drawn you into the shadows of my world—not to cage you, but to make you mine in every way. I will guard you against every enemy, silence every threat, and claim every part of you while building you into everything you dream of being. No man will touch you without losing his hands. No enemy will breathe after speaking your name. I will tear this city apart if it means keeping you safe. And I will spend the rest of my life making certain you never want for anything except more of me.
Chapter forty-one
Istayed curled up under the covers, watching the pale winter light stretch across the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t happening—not after Nik left and I could still smell him on the sheets. My muscles ached in that deep, satisfying way that made me smile into the pillow.
We’d spent almost an entire week with him buried inside me. He’d fucked me on nearly every surface in the penthouse—the bed, the kitchen island, the back of the sofa, against the windows that looked out over the city. I’d joked once that the only room we hadn’t christened yet was the laundry room. Nik had taken it as a personal challenge. He’d swept me up without a word and carried me straight there. One minute I was laughing; the next I was perched on top of the washer, the spin cycle turning every bounce into something extra wicked.
I wished I could complain about the soreness or the constellation of love bites decorating my skin, but I couldn’t. I loved every single mark. Every bruise. Every ache. They were proof that my husband couldn’t get enough of me. And, God, hecouldn’t even be in the kitchen—his favorite room, I’d decided—without having some part of himself inside me. If it wasn’t his cock, it was his fingers or his tongue. And I still hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done to me with the spatula. I’d never look at baking the same way again.
Although the week had been full of sex, connection, and unexpected laughter, there had been some darker moments too—moments when he’d gone from playful to something else, something that made my pulse pound in equal parts fear and fascination. Like the night he’d decided to test how much I trusted him. He’d warned me the game would push me, that I’d have to fight my instincts to stop. I’d agreed to play, breathless and curious, already on my knees with my wrists looped through the silk cord hanging from the large beam in the middle of the bedroom ceiling.
He’d brought over a lit candle, and at first I’d thought he was just teasing me with the heat, letting the wax hover close enough to warm my skin without touching it. Then the first drop hit, scalding and sweet all at once. More followed, deliberate and slow, each drop burning for a heartbeat before melting into a delicious heat that seemed to sink straight to my core. I’d whimpered, tested the silk around my wrists, and looked up to find him watching me like I was the only thing in the world worth focusing on.
The pain blurred into pleasure until I didn’t know where one ended and the other began. But the real high had been seeing the change in him—how my surrender, my trust, made his control falter just long enough for me to glimpse the man beneath. I’d given him something rare, something I knew he didn’t take lightly.
The only boundary he hadn’t crossed was my tight, puckered ring. Sure, he’d teased me there, slid a fingertip in once or twice, but that was as far as I’d allow him to go. So far, he’d respectedmy wishes. But it was only a matter of time before I gave in to his desires, with the way he was obsessed with being my first in everything. And, truth be told, I wanted it too—wanted to give him every part of me.
This week had been about more than just sex. It had been about trust. Nik had let me in—really in. We’d talked for hours about his life in Russia, his years as a student in the UK, and why he’d chosen Ukraine to be his home country. He’d even started opening up to me about his businesses, both the legal and not-so-legal ones. He told me about arms deals, crypto manipulation, and security contracts that spanned continents. Half of it went over my head, but I didn’t care.
And God, the man was a genius. His brain never stopped—unless he was buried inside me or asleep. The rest of the time, he ran like a machine, and I was his only diversion. He was an intensely private person, I was sure he had never shared any of it—his past, his work, the raw truth of who he was—with anyone except for me. Some people might have been privy to necessary bits and pieces of information, but I was the only one who had the privilege of getting to know the whole man. And as he learned to trust me, I learned to trust him. It showed in a hundred small ways. The edge I’d sensed on our wedding night had started to dissolve, replaced by something easier and more comfortable. Even his dry, wicked humor had come back, surfacing in quiet one-liners that made me snort into my coffee before he stole the cup—and my breath—away from me.
We’d lived for a time in our own wonderful fantasy world, just him and me.
But this morning, an urgent text from Luca Genovese had broken that spell—he’d told Nik to snap out of his wedding bliss and get his ass to his office. Rumor had it, the mayor was looking to shut down Xyst right away.
The tension in Nik’s shoulders immediately returned, and he quickly became absorbed with his phone.
He’d groused about having to actually put on clothes as he buttoned his shirt and shrugged on his jacket. He’d leaned one knee on the bed, trailing kisses down my back, promising me he’d take us on a proper honeymoon soon, where no one could interrupt us.
I guess all good things had to end.
Before he left, Nik told me we’d be going to Xyst tonight and that I should wear one of those pretty black dresses I’d bought during my shopping spree while Henri was watching over me. I’d laughed and told him there were only five for me to choose from, but I was sure there was one he’d like. He’d smirked, kissed me like a promise, and walked out the door.
Now, the apartment was quiet. I stretched, arching my back and smiling at the memory of his hands, his mouth, his voice telling me to obey. My pulse quickened. Tonight, we’d be out in public. All eyes would be on us—on me. And Nik? He would know exactly how to use that to his advantage.
I’d been counting the hours since Nik had left this morning. Fifteen, to be exact—and every single one of them had been too long.
I’d spent the day making sure I would be perfect for tonight. Hair styled. Skin pampered. Makeup done. I’d even played dirty and sent him a series of nudes while I lounged in a steaming bath, letting the water bead over my breasts, my thighs, and the swell of my hips—knowing he’d be looking at them in the middle of whatever business he was handling.
Nik was a man of his word, and at exactly ten o’clock, the elevator doors opened with a soft whoosh.
And there he was.
Dark suit tailored to lethal perfection, tie loose, the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. My breath caught—not just from the sight of him but from the way his eyes devoured me. Feral. Possessive.
In his left hand, he held a small jewelry-store bag.
