11. Lucian
11
LUCIAN
I watch my bride enter the breakfast room dressed in a red shift dress that matches her fiery personality and full ruby lips. Her auburn hair has been curled into loose waves that fall around her face, and when her eyes find mine, her lips tilt petulantly. It’s been a week, and still, we’re going through the same dance. The same resistance to my attempts to bring us together that only dissipates when we have sex. Even then, it’s a constant tug-of-war. And while I don’t mind the spice it adds to the bedroom, I was hoping she might start to lower her walls for me by now.
But she only concedes after considerable opposition. I wanted to give Tatiana time to settle into her new life, but it’s starting to seem like this will be our dynamic for the foreseeable future. And we need to start moving forward on a larger scale because the tension between my men and hers isn’t getting any better. We’ve both spoken to the men about learning to coexist, but I don’t see how they’re going to accept the command unless we start presenting a united front. We have to represent the alliance if we want to stop the street brawls that continue to break out every time our men cross paths.
Tatiana settles into her chair without a word, focusing on the yogurt parfait Daniella sets before her. She grants the older cook a warm smile before we’re left alone in the breakfast room. Silence fills the space between us as Tatiana picks up her spoon and starts to eat without glancing in my direction.
“I think it’s safe to assume you’ve acclimated to your new role as my wife by now,” I state, keeping my tone light but businesslike, and Tatiana’s blue eyes flash in my direction.
“Assume away,” she says and takes another pointed bite.
“Then I think it’s time we discuss how to handle our new alliance.” I set down my silverware across my empty omelet plate and lace my fingers as I lean my elbows on the table.
“I agreed to a ceasefire, and I’ll give you an heir, like you want. But that’s as good as it’s going to get. Our families won’t be united because I won’t give up my authority to you. That wasn’t part of the agreement, and I refuse to let my father’s legacy fall into your hands.” Tatiana’s lips wrap around her spoon as she drags another seductive bite of creamy fruit and granola onto her tongue, and she levels a steady, daring gaze in my direction.
“I’m not asking for control, but clearly the concept of an alliance isn’t going to work if we can’t even stand before your men and mine at the same time and call it what it is. The fighting needs to stop, and it won’t unless they believe you and I are both behind making this arrangement work.”
“Who says I’m behind it?” Tatiana demands, dropping her spoon into her parfait bowl and pushing it away from herself. “ That wasn’t part of our agreement. I don’t have to like this arrangement. And for the record, I don’t like it. You forced my hand?—”
“But you did sign the contract, and that does make us allies, whether you like it or not,” I state coolly. “It will go a long way for the men if we can do more than squabble and keep our lives separate.”
“Oh, and exactly what would you suggest we do differently? Because you are not going to start preaching to my men.”
“You can manage yours, and I’ll manage mine, but it’s not working to keep them entirely separated. We need to bring them together to clear the air once and for all.”
Tatiana scoffs. “And once they have the opportunity to air their concerns for the class, the problem will just go away? No, the issue is you have a lot to answer for, and my men aren’t happy about that.”
“You agreed to this marriage in part to avoid the bloodshed, didn’t you?” I point out.
Tatiana’s chin lifts but she refuses to answer—a confirmation of sorts.
“So, regardless of what I may have to answer for, you want the fighting to stop. And you’re the only one with the authority to stop it, so why won’t you?”
“Are you calling into question my ability to control my own men?” she demands, standing abruptly from the table as she glowers down at me.
Humor tugs at the corners of my lips, and I rise slowly to lean across the table toward her. “I wouldn’t dream of questioning the hold you have on any man, but I’m not above tying you to our bed and keeping you there until you’re ready to listen,” I warn darkly, keeping my voice low.
Tatiana’s breath catches, and her eyes darken at the suggestion before she narrows them. “You wouldn’t dare,” she hisses, leaning closer until her lips are just inches from mine.
I love it when she tells me what I won’t do—I love the excuse to prove her wrong.
Grinning wickedly, I grasp her wrist and round the corner of the table, stopping her from stepping back with my hold on her arm. Her eyes widen, her tongue nervously darting out to wet her lips as she seems to realize her error in judgment.
“Lucian…” she says slowly, her eyes flashing with uncertainty.
And before she can pull away, I dip low to scoop her up. Tatiana squeals, her legs kicking out as I hoist her up at the bend of her hips, slinging her over my shoulder. Her hands slap fruitlessly at my back as she squirms.
“Put me down, ty ublyudok !” she shrieks.
I give her round ass a firm slap for good measure, and Tatiana gives another enraged squeal. And as I carry her back up the stairs to our bedroom, she protests loudly, screaming what I can safely assume is Russian profanity.
Her noisy objections turn the servants’ heads as we pass—their eyes growing wide at Tatiana’s shouting before they see what’s happening.
“You’re being completely ridiculous,” I state as I reach the second floor and turn down the hall toward our room.
At the sight of our approach, Gabriella and one of the other maids scurry from the master suite, taking their cleaning supplies with them.
“You’re being an insufferable mudak !” Tatiana bites back, earning another sharp spank.
She growls in frustration, her elbows digging into my shoulder blade as she stops actively fighting me, and I can see her fuming, her chin resting against her palms as I pass the floor-length mirror I fucked her against on our wedding night.
Turning, I close the bedroom door behind us and throw her down on the bed. Tatiana gasps, her hands flying wide to catch herself, and she watches me with narrowed eyes.
“You should know better than to doubt me by now, tesoro ,” I purr, kneeling to collect a length of rope from beneath our bed.
Her eyes widen as she takes in what I’m holding, and I catch the spark of excitement in her blue gaze before she shifts on the mattress as if she plans to run away.
“Agree to the meeting, and this can all stop right now,” I tease, looping the rope expertly around the post of our headboard.
Instead, Tatiana makes a break for it, rushing toward the door. Dropping the rope onto the bed, I catch her around the waist, using her own momentum to bring her back onto the mattress. Before she can slip away again, I loop the rope around her wrist then quickly make a second knot around her other hand. She gasps, tugging against the sudden restraint as I tie it across to the other post of our headboard. She tests the rope, looking up at where it’s tied as she jerks against it, but it holds tight.
“You did not ,” she gasps, her fury rising. “Untie me right now, Lucian!”
“I’ll untie you once you tell me what I want to hear,” I tease, shrugging out of my suit jacket and tossing it onto the reading chair near me.
Tatiana stares at me as I slowly start to roll up my sleeves, watching her with amusement.
“I’m going to be late for work,” she states, jerking at her bindings fruitlessly.
“Hmm,” I say. I’m already late for a meeting, but they can wait. Right now, it’s time to teach my wife a lesson—that she won’t be winning this battle, even if I have to keep her here all day.
I sink onto the bed, kneeling by her feet, and Tatiana stills, her eyes shifting to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, if you’re going to be difficult, I might just have to break you,” I promise darkly, sliding the hem of her dress slowly up her thighs.
I’m rock-hard in an instant at the sight of her black satin panties. Tatiana has the sexiest underwear, and I can’t help but wonder if she thinks of me before she chooses what to wear. Hooking my fingers around the elastic waist, I drag the soft fabric down her milky flesh, stripping her of her panties. I can tell she’s aroused by our argument because, even as her eyes flash defiantly, the black fabric between her thighs is already soaked with excitement.
Holding them to my nose, I inhale her scent and relish the way Tatiana flushes a delicate shade of pink. She swallows hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“I’m starting to think you enjoy provoking me,” I tease. “If I touched you right now, would you be wet for me?”
Tatiana presses her lips together, refusing to answer me.
Quirking an eyebrow, I keep my eyes locked on hers as I reach between her thighs to stroke her pink folds. Slick arousal rushes out to greet me, and Tatiana shudders, her eyes closing as the color intensifies in her cheeks.
She’s positively dripping she’s so eager for me.