Page 54 of The Pakhan’s Stolen Bride

Smack.

The sharp, stinging sound of my hand hitting her bare bottom cheek echoes through the quiet bedroom. Via lets out a loud, startled gasp, her body twitching against the silk restraint, her skin instantly turning a beautiful, deep rose.

"Ilya," she whimpers, her hips tilting upward, seeking the pressure.

Smack.

I deliver another slow, heavy blow, the skin warming under my hand, her body vibrating with a sudden, sharp spike of arousal that makes her wetness drip onto the sheet below.

"You are my wife, Viallentinka," I whisper, my mouth grazing her ear, my hands sliding down to her hips to position myself at her entrance. "Your body belongs to me. Every single inch of it."

"I am," she sobs, her thighs parting wider, her head thrashing against the wood of the headboard. "I’m yours, Ilya. Please. I can't take the wait."

I don't make her wait.

I drive myself inside her in a single, deep thrust.

The stretch is immense. I am so thick, so hard, that entering her completely takes the breath straight out of her lungs, her mouth opening in a silent, high-pitched gasp. She clamps down around my length like a hot, wet vise, her internal walls wrapping around me so tightly I have to freeze, my jaw clenching, my forehead resting against hers as I fight to keep from losing my control immediately.

"Via..." I groan, my hand coming up to cup her face, my thumb wiping away the tear sliding down her cheek. "You're so goddamn tight."

"Move, Ilya," she begs, her hips twitching against mine, her wrists pulling against the silk tie. "Please. Move."

I begin to thrust.

The pace is slow, deep, and filled with a heavy, grinding pressure. I hold her hips, my thrusts driving all the way to her core, aligning perfectly with the tilt of her pelvis. The wet, heavy friction of our bodies sliding together is the only sound in the room, mixed with the steady, wailing rain hitting the window glass outside.

"Is this good, little bird?" I ask, my voice a gravelly vibration against her mouth.

"Yes," she gasps, her fingers curled into tight fists against the headboard. "It’s... it’s too much. Ilya, please."

I increase the speed, my thrusts becoming hard, relentless, and deep. I slide my hand down, my fingers finding her clit and rubbing it with a firm, steady pressure that makes her scream against my mouth. She is completely lost in the sensation, her body vibrating with the build-up of a second, even more violent climax.

"Beg me, Via," I growl, my pace reaching a deafening, rapid rhythm.

"Ilya," she cries out, her body going completely rigid beneath mine. "Ilya! Please!"

Her climax hits her, the violent, shaking waves of her release washing over me in tight, desperate pulses that completely destroy the last hold on my control. I let out a loud, animalistic roar, driving myself deep inside her one last time, my body shaking as I release my hot seed deep inside her womb.

I stay buried inside her, my chest heaving against hers, my head buried in the crook of her wet neck as we both shiver in the aftermath.

Slowly, I pull back, the sticky friction of our release making a soft, wet sound as I slide out. She lets out a quiet, exhausted sigh, her wrists falling limp against the dark wood of the headboard as I reach up to untie the silk. I drag her body up the mattress until her head is resting in the crook of my good shoulder, my heavy arm wrapping around her waist to anchor her flat against my chest.

She doesn't pull away, her fingers tangling lazily in the hair on my chest as her breathing slowly evens out.

"I'm carrying my things back to my wing tomorrow," she murmurs, her voice a sleepy, muffled thread against my skin.

My grip on her waist tenses, my jaw clenching slightly in the dark room. "No, you're not."

She shifts, her head lifting off my chest to look at my face in the dim glow of the coals. "Excuse me?"

"Your room is empty from tonight, Via," I say, my thumb sliding over her bare hip, tracing the warm curve of her skin. "You sleep here. In my bed. Every night. If I wake up and you aren't under my arm, I’m locking the house down."

She stares at me for a long second, a tiny, stubborn spark of defiance flickering in her eyes before she lets out a soft, tired huff and drops her head back onto my chest. "You're an incredibly bossy warden, Kovalevskii."

"I’m a husband who likes his investments where he can see them," I say, my lips pressing a lingering, possessive kiss to the top of her gold hair.

Right now, in the quiet, dim twilight of the bedroom, there is only her.