39. Tatiana #2
“What do you mean?” I questioned.
“The two of us fit perfectly together, like roses and thorns,” he explained softly as he slowly lowered me to my feet, then started to lather my body. “It has to be the thorns of love.”
I smiled softly. “I like that, Husband.”
The two of us were bound by thorns of love.
* * *
Ten minutes later, after we washed each other's bodies, shampooed each other’s hair and rinsed off, we exited the shower.
He patted me dry with a soft towel, but I quickly took over.
Wrapping the towel around my breasts, I dried my husband down with a towel. I ran it down his broad back, down his waist and that perfect ass, all the way down to his calves. I stood up tall but before I turned him around, I pressed a kiss to his upper back, on his tattoo.
“See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil,” I murmured softly. I was starting to get the meaning of the tattoo. He didn’t like to talk about the lengths he went to protect.
“Except we do,” he rasped, tension vibrating through every inch of him.
I turned him around and started drying the front side of him, starting at his biceps.
“No, you don’t. They do,” I growled softly, focusing on the task at hand. “ She did.”
She, being his Aunt Jane.
Once we were both dried, I discarded my towel, took his hand, and led him into our bedroom. We both crawled under the covers naked. My husband insisted we sleep naked. He said he needed my skin and my pussy easily accessible.
“You know, once the babies are here, we won’t be able to sleep naked,” I remarked amused.
His hand was already trailing my belly, his fingers tracing the scar left behind by Adrian. His skin against mine, our bodies pressed together and my ear over his heart, I had never felt warmer. Even being in Russia, in the middle of the winter nonetheless.
“I’ll insist on getting you naked every chance we have.” Amusement colored his voice but also a worry.
Over the last month, we’d fallen into a routine. We’d eat breakfast together, then he usually had some work to do. If there was anything I could help with, he’d let me. If there wasn’t, I’d work on helping Isla and her friends with their endeavors.
And those were quite… eventful. But I was intent on keeping my word to my sister-in-law. I’d always be there for her. No matter what she needed. I just didn’t realize at the time, my vow would apply to her little circle of friends as well.
“You’re still worried,” I noted, as his fingers traced circles over my lower belly. Raising my head off his chest so I could look at his face, I took his hand and stilled it. “Talk to me, love.”
The corner of his lips lifted and he pressed his palm against my stomach.
“She’s the second woman I killed.” The unspoken words ‘ but not the last ’ spun their dark web through the air. Sofia Volkov would be the last. They hadn’t been able to find her, but they would. I had no doubt about it. “At least with the first one, it was quick. This–”
The anguish in his voice was unmistakable and I wished I could take his pain away. He knew the torture was necessary to get any information we could to get an advantage over Sofia Volkov. She was the last threat to our family. To any family in the underworld, really.
I cupped his face and brought it close to mine. “Isla’s mother was broken. We don’t know what she went through, but she was dead long before your father brought her home. You probably ended her suffering and saved your sister’s life.”
It was hard to penetrate the guilt. Words didn’t erase it, but maybe with time he’d see that it was for the best.
“Sofia Volkov is a threat. She supports child trafficking. Human trafficking. She partnered with the man who made my brother’s life hell. So whatever she gets, she has had it coming for a long time.”
“And your aunt,” I started, sighing heavily.
“Well, she made her choice. She wanted you dead. Us dead. Even with Nikita and Adrian gone, she would have kept coming back. I heard what she said. She was crazy, Illias. You’re smart enough to have recognized it.
Her hate blinded her and she passed that on to her son and eventually Adrian. ”
His shoulders stiffened at the mention of Adrian.
It was still a sore subject, but I refused to let that ghost linger between us.
I pressed my lips against his chest, inhaling his scent deep into my lungs.
My heart did that fluttery thing and my stomach somersaulted.
No matter how many times he’d have me, I’d never tire of him.
“It’s you, Illias,” I murmured against his skin, taking his nipple and biting it. Hard. Just the way he seemed to love to bite mine. I grinned, noting his body’s jolt, so I licked it, easing the sting.
“It’s always been you,” I murmured. “The way I loved Adrian is completely different from the way I love you.” I lifted my head and our gazes met.
“He was something between a brother and…” I scrunched my brows, looking for the right word.
“ –a brother and a first crush. But you, my husband, you are the man who saved my life, stole my heart, and gave me purpose. You gave us a future .”
I gasped when in one swift move Illias flipped us over, his body on top of mine.
“I stole your heart?” he growled.
I nodded. “Either that or I have given it unknowingly.”
“Do you want it back?”
Our breaths filled the silence. Our gazes caught and time lagged. Ten lifetimes wouldn’t tire me of this man. His body hovered over mine. His heat seeped into my bones. Russia in the winter wasn’t bad after all. At least not when I was with my husband. He kept my body, heart, and soul warm.
“No. My heart’s the safest with you.”
Without warning, he thrust inside me and my body welcomed his intrusion. “That’s the right fucking answer,” he growled, keeping his body still while his cock grew bigger and harder inside me. It made every cell of my body quiver with anticipation.
“I aim to please,” I murmured.
He nuzzled against my hair, inhaling me in. “Fuck, I love your scent. I can’t think of roses without getting hard anymore. Just smelling them and I’m ready to cum.”
I chuckled. “I’ll be sure to fill the house with roses tomorrow,” I teased.
The truth was that for the past month, he had brought me flowers every single day. Red roses. And I gushed over them every single time.
“None of the flowers compare to you though.” With his biceps on each side of me, his forehead came to rest against mine.
He thrust inside of me, deep and slow, with the intimacy that brought tears to my eyes.
“Your body's my temple, moya luna,” he rasped thickly, his Russian accent lacing every word. “But you… you are my home.”
“And you’re mine,” I whispered, emotions thick in my voice.
I put a palm to his cheek and he leaned into it, making my chest expand with so much love I thought it’d explode.
“Just keep our babies safe, Illias. Use all your resources. Omertà, Kingpins, Cassio and his gang, Yakuza. Use them all. It’s not only our battle.
Sofia Volkov is a threat to all of us - all of our children and all of our families. ”
Was it ridiculous to have this conversation while he was buried deep inside me? Maybe. I didn’t care. This was our family we were talking about. This was our future.
I knew he needed a release after the torture and ultimate death of his aunt.
And I’d give it to him, in any way - my body, my heart, my soul.
Even my advice, regardless if he asked for it or not.
He felt more relaxed now than when he first came upstairs.
His muscles weren’t as tense and the lines of his face were full of tenderness.
“You don’t mind the Omertà?” he questioned. “Marchetti?”
“The hot daddy?” I mused, unable to hide my grin as his eyes turned stormy. “Why would I mind the hot daddy?”
He pulled out almost completely only to thrust back in. Rough. Hard. Savage. I gasped, my back arching off the bed and ready for another round of pleasure. Needing him to own my body.
“The only hot daddy you’re allowed to think about is me,” he growled with a dangerous tilt to his voice.
“I’m your hot daddy, your god, your husband, your partner.
Your fucking everything .” His hot, dark whisper brushed my ear.
He thrust deep inside me again, this time each ram harsher.
“I’m the only right man for you. Is that understood? ”
“Yes, daddy,” I breathed, attempting to joke but it came out all wrong. Needy. Hoarse.
He let out an animalistic groan, then started fucking me with deep, long thrusts.
“Now, let me show you how right you are for me, moya luna.”
And oh my God. Did he ever!