25. Kiera
KIERA
Iwatch Emil's face carefully as I say the words. His expression doesn't change. He just takes a sip of his espresso and sets the cup down with deliberate precision.
"Ground rules," he repeats, his voice neutral.
"Yes." I straighten my spine, refusing to be intimidated. "If I'm going to do this, if I'm going to marry you and live in your world, then there are things that need to be established."
He leans back in his chair, studying me with those dark eyes. "I'm listening."
My heart is pounding, but I force myself to continue. "First, my family and friends are off limits. Completely. You don't threaten them, you don't hurt them, you don't use them as leverage against me. Ever."
"Agreed."
The quick response surprises me, but he adds a stipulation.
"Unless they do something that requires my… special attention," he qualifies. When I open my mouth to retort, he shakes his head. "This is non-negotiable. I'll play fair as long as they do."
After a moment, I nod. I guess that's the best I'm going to get. "Second, my brothers can visit me whenever they want. I'm not going to be cut off from them."
Emil's jaw tightens slightly. "With restrictions."
"What kind of restrictions?"
"When I'm meeting with other Pakhans or handling sensitive business, they can't be on the estate. Those meetings are dangerous, and I won't risk your brothers walking into something that could get them killed." He pauses. "But otherwise, yes. They can visit."
I hadn't expected him to agree to that at all. I thought he'd want to isolate me completely. "Okay. That's fair."
"What else?"
"I'm not going to be treated like a prisoner. I need freedom to move around and have a life."
"With security," he says immediately.
"Fine. But I get to go places. I'm not locked in your estate forever."
"Agreed."
This is going better than I expected. Too well, maybe. I eye him suspiciously, but his expression gives nothing away.
"And I want to keep my job," I say. "I know you called my office and got me time off, but when this is over, when whoever is after me is caught, I want to go back to work."
"Why?" He sounds genuinely curious. "You'll be my wife. You won't need to work."
"Because it's not just about money." I lean forward, needing him to understand this. "That job is a stepping stone. I want to be a designer someday. I'm learning the industry, making connections, and building experience. I'm not giving that up."
Emil is quiet for a long moment, his fingers drumming once on the table. "Once the threat is neutralized and it's safe, you can return to work. With conditions."
"What conditions?"
"You'll have a driver. Security will be discreet but present. And if there's ever another threat, you stop immediately. No arguments."
I want to fight him on it, but honestly, this is more than I thought I'd get. "Deal."
"Anything else?"
I think about it. There are probably a hundred other things I should demand, but these are the most important. "That's it for now."
"Good." He signals the waiter, who appears instantly with the check. Emil doesn't even look at it before placing cash on the table. "Then we have an agreement."
We stand, and he places his hand on the small of my back as we walk out. The gesture is possessive, claiming, but I'm getting used to it. People nod to him as we pass, fearful respect in their eyes.
This is my life now. This world of power and violence and luxury.
The thought should terrify me more than it does.
The drive back to the estate is quiet. I stare out the window, processing everything that happened today.
And now these ground rules. The fact that he agreed to most of them surprises me.
I expected more of a fight, more demands that I simply obey.
But he negotiated like we were equals, like my needs mattered.
Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought. Maybe I can actually survive this.
When we arrive at the estate, Emil doesn't lead me to the guest room where I've been staying. Instead, he takes me through a different part of the house, down a hallway I haven't seen before.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"You've had a long day. I thought you might want to relax."
He opens a door, and I step into a room that takes my breath away.
It's an indoor pool. The water is a deep, inviting blue, lit from below so it glows in the dim lighting. The ceiling is high, with skylights that show the stars above. Plants line the edges, creating a tropical oasis feeling. Steam rises from the surface, indicating the water is heated.
"You have an indoor pool?" I turn to look at him. "You already have an outdoor pool."
"Three pools total," he corrects. "The third is smaller, in my private suite."
"Of course it is." I walk to the edge and dip my fingers in the water. It's perfectly warm. "Why do you need three pools?"
"I like to swim. And I like options." He moves behind me, close enough that I can feel his body heat. "Do you want to swim?"
I should say no. I should go to my room and process everything that happened today. But the water looks so inviting, and the tension in my shoulders from the past few days is almost unbearable.
"I don't have a swimsuit."
"You don't need one."
I turn to face him, and the heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. "Emil."
"We've already fucked, Kiera. Multiple times. There's nothing I haven't seen." He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "But if you're shy, keep your underwear on."
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for the zipper of my dress.
Emil watches as I slide it down, the fabric pooling at my feet.
I'm wearing a simple black bra and matching underwear, nothing fancy, but the way he looks at me makes me feel like I'm wearing the most expensive lingerie in the world.
"Beautiful," he murmurs.
He strips off his shirt, revealing that muscular chest with the intricate tattoos. The snake and panther on his left arm, the jungle vines trailing down from his neck. I've seen it before, touched it, but it still makes my mouth go dry.
His pants follow, leaving him in just black boxer briefs that do nothing to hide the bulge of his cock. He's already half hard, and I feel an answering heat between my legs.
We slip into the water together. It's warm and silky against my skin, and I let out a sigh of relief as the heat soaks into my muscles.
Emil swims closer, and suddenly, we're inches apart. Water droplets cling to his beard, and his dark eyes are locked on mine.
"Come here," he says, his voice low and commanding.
I should resist. I should maintain some distance, some control. But my body moves toward him anyway, drawn by that magnetic pull I can't seem to fight.
His hands find my waist, pulling me against him. I can feel every hard plane of his body, and especially the thick length of his cock pressing against my stomach through the thin fabric of our underwear.
"I've been thinking about you all day," he says, his lips brushing my ear. "Watching you get excited at the races. Seeing you smile. It's been torture not touching you."
"You touched me at dinner. Your hand was on my back the whole time."
"That's not the kind of touching I mean."
His hand slides down to cup my ass, squeezing firmly. I gasp, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders for balance.
"Emil."
"Say it again." His other hand moves to my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple through the wet fabric of my bra. "Say my name."
"Emil," I breathe.
He captures my mouth in a kiss that's pure possession. His tongue demands entry, and I give it to him, opening for him completely. The kiss is deep and consuming, making me forget where we are, forget everything except the feel of him against me.
His fingers find the clasp of my bra and undoes it with practiced ease. The fabric floats away in the water, leaving my breasts bare. He breaks the kiss to look down at them, his eyes darkening with hunger.
"Perfect," he says, then lowers his head to take one nipple into his mouth.
I arch against him, my fingers threading through his hair. The sensation of his mouth on me, the heat of the water, the steam rising around us, it's all overwhelming in the best way.
His hand slides into my underwear, fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy. I'm already wet, and not from the pool. He strokes me with firm, deliberate movements that make my legs shake.
"Hold onto me," he orders.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me slightly, positioning me against the edge of the pool. His fingers hook into my underwear and pull it aside, and then I feel the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
"Look at me," he says.
I open my eyes, meeting his gaze as he pushes inside. The stretch is intense, almost too much, but my body adjusts to accommodate him. He fills me completely, and I can feel every inch of him.
"Fuck," he groans. "You feel incredible."
He starts to move, slow at first, letting me adjust. But then his pace increases, his hips driving forward with powerful thrusts that make the water splash around us. I cling to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure builds inside me.
"That's it," he says, his voice rough. "Take it. Take all of me."
His hand finds my clit again, rubbing in tight circles as he fucks me. The dual sensation is too much. I can feel my orgasm building, that familiar tension coiling tighter and tighter.
"Emil, I'm going to—"
"Come for me, Kiera. Let me feel you."
His words push me over the edge. I come hard, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash through me. I bury my face in his neck, muffling my cries against his skin.
He doesn't stop. He keeps thrusting, chasing his own release. His movements become more erratic, more desperate, and then he's groaning my name as he comes inside me.
We stay like that for a moment, both breathing hard, the water lapping gently around us. His forehead rests against mine, and for once, he looks almost vulnerable.
"Kiera," he starts.
The door to the pool room opens.
"Pakhan," Luca's voice cuts through the moment. "Sorry to interrupt, but Kiera's brothers are outside. They're demanding to see her."