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“You’ll come for me in our marriage bed.”
I picked her up and laid her against the pillows. Her long, dark hair spread across the white linen. I moved over her, one knee between her legs, my hands braced on either side of her head.
She smiled up at me, and I kissed her. My wife. The first touch of her mouth beneath mine was sweeter than any champagne, more intoxicating than the vodka Nikolai had insisted on pouring earlier. I kissed her until she was breathless, until her hands had moved to my back and her body was arching against mine. Then I shifted lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her jaw, her throat, and the sensitive skin above the leather at her neck.
She gasped when I drew one nipple into my mouth. Her fingers tightened in my hair as I paid equal attention to the other. When I moved down her stomach, her thighs parted, and I couldn’t refuse her any longer.
I settled between her legs and looked up the length of her body. Her skin was flushed, her lips parted, her eyes dark with the same need I felt everywhere inside me. I touched her with my fingers first, finding her soft and ready. Then I lowered my head and tasted her.
Alessia cried out, one hand fisting in the sheets while the other remained tangled in my hair. Her hips rose to meet me, silently pleading with me for more, and I gave it to her. I licked and sucked, holding her thighs open when her body began to shake. When she came, she screamed my name, her body tightening around my tongue in waves that made my cock ache.
I moved over her before she had fully caught her breath, positioning myself between her thighs. The head of my cock nudged her entrance, and I paused, looking down at her.
“Alessia.”
She placed one hand against my jaw. “Take me, Husband.”
With a groan, I pressed into her slowly, watching her face as she took me inch by inch. When I was fully seated inside her, her eyes closed, her expression one of pure satisfaction.
I began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Her hands slid down my back, her legs wrapping around my waist. The room faded away until there was only the feel of her beneath me, the scent of her skin, and the sounds she made as I drove us both toward release.
I felt her tightening around me, her breath coming in short gasps. I reached between us, stroking her in time with my thrusts, and she shattered again, her back arching, her nails digging into my shoulders.
The sight of her pleasure pushed me over the edge. I thrust deep one final time, emptying myself inside her with a yell. My forehead rested against hers as the world slowly returned.
When I could move again, I rolled onto my side, taking her with me. Alessia tucked her head beneath my chin, her breath warm against my chest. I held her, one hand stroking her hair, the other resting at her waist.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“For?”
“For giving me Mila’s photograph. For telling me the whole truth.”
The last of the tension inside me released. “I’m yours, Alessia. Completely.” I kissed her, long and slow, then drew her more firmly against me. “This is our bed now. You are mine. You will sleep beside me.”
“Good.”
“Every night.”
She laughed softly. “Now you’re making demands.”
“Making?” I rested my cheek against her hair. “We agreed to terms, little pet.”
“Then I suppose I have no choice.” Her voice softened. “I’m here as long as you want me, Sergei.”
My heart beat hard in my chest. “Always.”
“Always.”
* * *
Later, she lay with her head over my heart, one leg tangled with mine and her fingers tracing the new ring on my hand.
After a long silence, she said, “I want my mother’s file reopened.”
I looked down at her.
Alessia lifted her head. Her expression was soft from the night, but the determination in her eyes had returned.
