Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JACE
I know why photography was invented. It was to capture moments like this…
Fearing your heart would remember the emotion, but your mind may forget the image. “You’re determined to fucking kill me, aren’t you?”
Vivian lowers her camera. “What?”
I lie back, resting in heaven. “Smokeshow, you’re too damn beautiful, straddling me in nothing but your wet white cotton panties.”
“And?” She tilts her head.
“And I’m dying for your perfect little tits. Saliva is pooling in my mouth.”
She laughs, lifting her camera, aiming it at me again. “Say titties.”
I caress her hips, smiling. “Torture.”
She presses the shutter but doesn’t lower her camera. “God.” She sighs softly. “Jace, you’re so beautiful.”
No, my world is beautiful with her in it.
Tonight, I left Earth and landed in ecstasy. I knew that finally kissing Vivian would redefine my existence. But I never suspected I wouldn’t want to exist without her.
Watching her come was all it took.
It’s not just the sexiest damn sight of her almost-nude body teasing my dick to death. It’s how I can lie here and feel her giving to me as much as I want to give to her.
Carefully, I take her treasured camera. Setting it on the nightstand beside us, I reach for her next.
“No, you’re beautiful.” I pull her into a kiss.
I’ll never stop fucking kissing her.
Vivian Tate tastes like marshmallows, miracles, and the mother of my children. I can feel it every time our breaths combine.
Her soft moans into my mouth are my new obsession. We’re going to be one of those obnoxious couples sucking face on the sidewalk. John Q. Public can kiss my smitten ass; I have a woman I want to satisfy every fucking minute I’m alive.
Like now.
Using my strength, I flip her over, our moaning mouths fused, our tongues dancing. My dick doesn’t know it can’t stay hard forever. Not with the way she opens her thighs for me and sighs with such need. “Jace.”
“Goddamn, Vivian.” I huff into our kiss. “How are we on that slow thing? Making any progress?”
She giggles against my lips. “Okay, big guy. Let’s catch a breath.”
“Who needs to breathe when we can fuck?”
I’m just trying to make her smile. Like that. Then, I brace on my hands and take in everything I adore, everything I’ll kill for.
A woman like Vivian is why men wage wars and proudly buy tampons. “God.” I sigh softly. “Vivian, you’re so beautiful.”
She traces my nose. “Sounds familiar.”
“Sounds true.”
She tickles her fingertip over my lips. “Can we do that whole more explaining things now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I lie down and nestle in beside her, propping my head in my hand so I can take stock of my new possession. Because—write this down—I’m never letting Vivian Tate go.
She stares at me in wonder. “Gosh, where do we start?”
“With lube, and I swear we’ll make it fit.”
“Jace.” She laughs, slapping my pec. It’s cute.
I’m so fucked and in love, asking, “Question is, will we need condoms?”
“I’m on the pill and got tested after I caught pencil dick cheating. Thankfully, I was clear and have been dating dildos ever since.” Her happy face bends, worried. “And you?”
“Oh, so you want that kind of explanation?”
She winces. “Is that prying? Or violating your privacy?”
“I’m tested and clear. And less than an hour ago, I watched your pretty pussy lips milk my dick until I splattered my pecs with cum. We’re way past prying and privacy. Ask whatever you want, Viv.” I brush golden strands from her face. “My life and heart are open to you.”
Oh, damn. Here comes that adorable face she makes. It’s the one that’d make me sing a musical in the middle of Meeting Street for her. The one where her blue eyes blink while her pink lips quiver, all overcome with sweet emotions.
“Do you really mean that?”
“You know how they say photographers chase the light?”
“Yes. They say light makes the normal magical.” She reaches for my cheek, tracing its contour. “Like you.”
This is what I mean. My heart flips. I brush the back of my fingers over her soft cheek. “Well, you’re my light, Vivian Tate. I can’t see my heart without you.”
“Jace.” There’s that adorable look again. Eyes blinking. Lip quivering. This time, a tear escapes, wetting her hair. I wipe it away as she asks, “Do you know why I became a photographer?”
“Your mom, right? Aurora Tate is a living legend.”
Her smile is softly proud. “She is, but you can’t make someone follow in your footsteps; I started my own path. I became a photographer to search for love through my lens, and now…” She traces my lips. “I don’t need a camera anymore.”
“Jesus, Vivian.” I seek her lips. They’ll give me the breath I need because she just ripped mine away.
And there’s that word again: love. It’s right here, waiting for us to completely claim it together, and never look back.
She lets me kiss her, starting my search for everything inside her. Everything that yearns between us, but she pulls back. “You’re going to make me bawl in bliss.”
“And?” I lean in, kissing her jaw, licking the salt from her happy tears.
“And we know how we feel, Jace. We know we’re together.” I kiss her neck as she sighs. “Right?”
I angle back, leaving her no doubt. “Fucking right and forever, Viv. If that scares you, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth between us.”
She runs her fingers through my waves. Like petting a lion, I could fucking purr. “So we need to talk about how we’ll do this,” she says. “Me and you. Because I have baggage and you’re a package deal.”
“A package deal?”
“Six brothers, one sister, a Bratva father, and a ruthless enemy. Am I leaving anything out?”
I’m not mad. She’s right. If I’m going to keep her by my side—which by God and my gun, I am—Vivian deserves to know everything.
She presses, “So let’s try this again; where do we start?”
“I was born on December first, and—”
“Jace.”
I laugh. “Sorry. You’re too cute when you’re pissed.”
“I’m not pissed off.” Her eyes sparkle. “But I need to know. I’m not some sheltered artist. I’ve been to war zones with my mother and did natural disaster relief with my dad. I know the world can be brutal; I just need to know more about the Bratva.”
“Okay, good place to start.” I wrap my leg over hers. “Bratva means band of brothers, and that’s us. Brothers who’ve been hiding in plain sight from our father for decades. I was almost six when we escaped Moscow to come here.”
“All by yourselves?”
“No, with our mom. She’s like a lioness, and we were her cubs.”
“Your mom? Doesn’t she live nearby?”
I nod. “She’s been right under your nose. She’s the owner of Elysium.”
Vivian jolts up beside me as I fall back onto the pillow. “Your mom is Nadine Faye! Talk about a living legend. A sex goddess. I’ve shot private shows at her club.”
“And I gag at the words ‘Mom’ and ‘sex goddess’ in the same breath.”
She laughs. “You know what I mean. Your mom is iconic.”
“My mom is actually Nadia Pavlovna Kholodova and Russian nobility.”
“Kholodova? Or Kholodov; that’s your last name, right?”
“Yes, it was Kholodov. But when a Russian woman marries, she takes her husband’s surname and adds an A. My father kidnapped her at fourteen and made her his child bride, and she took far more than his name. She took his hell for years. It’s another reason why I’m gonna kill him.”
Vivian blinks, taking it in. “Sounds like you all went through hell.”
“We did. It’s one of the three rings that form our band of brothers.” She waits for me to explain. “We’re branded by our father’s abuse, bled like brothers together, and bonded as kings to our queens.”
“Queens?” I watch the wheels behind her eyes spin lightning fast. “Queens like Vale and Delphine. Ruby and Wren. Even Zar and… who am I missing?”
You.
“Alena. She’s Nash’s daughter and Loch’s soon-to-be queen.”
“Soon to be? Like married? And why the royal titles? Is that a Bratva thing?”
I exhale, dragging my hand down my face, flooded with worry and relief to finally tell her this. It can go two ways: it’ll either make her run or make her mine forever.
“Jace? Why do you look so worried?”
Vivian’s sitting cross-legged beside me. A wild mane of golden hair. Glowing bronze skin. Pink perky nipples. Spellbinding eyes.
Goddamn, she’s my lioness. My mate. My pride.
My territory to defend.
“The same reason you don’t want to tell me what’s on that video,” I divulge, “is the same reason I’m worried to tell you about the kings and queens.”
She clams up, rolling her lips. I knew it. She still fears I’ll judge her, so one of us has to do this first.
“When I told you about group sex, that I’ve had it too?” I watch her eyes. They don’t flinch. “It was with the kings and queens. It’s a ritual from our royal culture and our criminal past.”
She takes a deep breath, and I get it over with. “In our tradition, every queen takes two kings. One as her, or his, partner forever: the one they love. And the other as her guard, her second king. Should something happen to her first king, her second king vows to defend her.”
“Takes?”
“Receives. Unites. Makes a vow. Bonds with.”
She lowers her brows. “You mean fucks.”
“That too.”
Again, with those beautiful spinning wheels in her eyes. Slowly, she nods. “Nash and Vale. You’re already… bound to them.”
Fuck, it’s scary how smart she is. How her mind is going past logic to assumptions.
I sit up beside her, taking her hand. “Viv, let me be clear. Nash and Vale love each other. So damn much, it’s powerful. Nash will kill anyone who hurts Vale; he already has. And she’ll annihilate anyone who threatens Nash; the poor fuckers. But—”
“But you’re with them, I can sense it.” She doesn’t pull her hand away. She leans forward. “I know they love each other; it’s obvious. But so is your bond with them. I feel it sometimes.”
“I’m Vale’s second king,” I reveal. “That’s what you sense. We’re not a throuple or swingers or whatever. They’re not open except to my pain sometimes.”
Her brows bend. “Your pain?”