Chapter 5
Five
Nadia
I’m sitting in the back of a Maybach with a cat carrier on my lap and two duffel bags at my feet.
This is my life now, apparently. Zak’s next to me, one arm stretched along the seat behind me.
He’s on the phone, speaking Russian. His voice all business and commanding.
In full Pakhan mode. And I can’t help squeezing my thighs together because it’s so freaking hot!
His voice is deep and resonant; the words rhythmic and thick.
Crabby meows from inside the carrier, and I stick my finger through the bars. He headbutts it, purring.
“You’re a traitor,” I whisper to him with a reluctant smile.
Zak glances at me, his lips twitching, still talking on the phone. He reaches out with his free hand to bring my fingers to his lips. My heart!
We pull up to the mansion, and the driver opens my door. Zak’s already out, reaching for my hand. Then he grabs the cat carrier and one of my bags. A man in a black suit appears and takes the other bag.
“This way, ma’am,” the guy says.
We head inside, and Maria’s there, beaming.
“Welcome home!” She looks at the cat carrier. “And who’s this little guy?”
“That’s Crabby,” I reply with a smile.
She laughs. “That’s a perfect name. Let me show you where we set up for him.”
“You set up for my cat?”
Zak gives me a ‘duh’ look as he sets the carrier down and opens it. Crabby stalks out with his tail held high, exploring his new surroundings.
Maria leads us to a corner of the massive living room where there’s a plush cat bed, a scratching post, food and water bowls, and a litter box tucked discreetly in an alcove.
“I hope this works,” Maria announces, beaming.
“Oh, wow, thank you.”
Zak just shrugs. Like it’s no big deal. Like having an entire section of his luxurious house set up for my cat is normal.
Should be expected. Something warm spreads through my chest. Soft and dangerous.
More than my already insane physical attraction to him.
My response to his body, his touch, the sound of his voice, the incredible way he smells.
The fact that he shielded me against bullets, even if it was his fault I was exposed to them.
More dangerous than the orgasms. Something that’s been growing with every ‘wife’, each embrace.
The same butterflies that spread through my belly when he bonded with my cat, like two dark souls recognizing one another.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He steps close and cups my cheek, the pad of his calloused thumb running over my skin. “Anything for you, wife.”
Then he kisses me softly. With just a press of his full lips on mine. Warm, sweet. Like we’re not standing in the middle of his living room with his staff watching.
When he pulls back, I’m breathless.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand.
We head upstairs and he leads me down the hallway to his…I guess our…bedroom. My bags are already there, set near the massive walk-in closet.
“There’s space in the closet, the dressers, bathroom.”
I walk to the closet, peeking inside. It’s huge. And the whole right side is empty. Zak’s suits, shirts, belts, watches, and shoes are neatly organized on one side. But the other side is completely bare… Did he…? Did he have his stuff reorganized to make room for mine?
I turn to face him. “This is a lot.”
He moves closer, his hands settling on my hips. “This is your home.”
I laugh nervously. “I don’t even have enough clothes to fill half this space.”
He leans to rest his forehead on mine. “Then we’ll get you more.”
I laugh, breathing in his warm, spicy scent. “I don’t need more clothes, honey.” Shit, that came out on its own.
“I’m going to give you the whole fucking world.” His gaze is intense. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. It’s yours.”
I shake my head, my throat clogging. “I don’t want your money, Zak.”
“I know.” He crooks a finger under my chin, lifting my face so our eyes meet. “But it’s yours. Everything I have.”
“You’re crazy.”
His mouth brushes mine again. “Unpack, get settled. Then come find me. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your job. Our life. How this is going to work.”
I stand there, blinking like an idiot. And he takes advantage of my confusion, kissing me slow, long, deep, wet. Then he’s gone. Leaving me standing in our bedroom. In his mansion. With my cat downstairs and my clothes in bags at my feet. This is fucking insane. But I start unpacking anyway.
* * *
I find him in his office half an hour later. He’s sitting behind the massive wooden desk, on his laptop. Still in his GQ model suit. Looking ridiculously hot. All thick, dark-blond hair, rugged features, massive body, and big-dick energy. I’m so screwed…
He glances up when I knock on the open door.
He raises his gaze, a small smile replacing his frown of concentration.
I step inside. The office is all dark wood and leather, with bookshelves lining the walls and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the estate grounds.
Zak gestures to the chair across from him. When I sit, he leans back in his chair, studying me. Eyes warm but alert.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrug. “Overwhelmed.”
He nods. “Understandable.”
I add, “Confused.”
Another nod. “Also understandable.”
“I need to go back to work,” I say quickly before he can argue. “I’m a nurse, Zak. I help people. I’m not giving that up.” His jaw tightens, and I see the protest forming. “I’m not asking for permission,” I continue. “I’m telling you. I’m going back to work.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Just staring at me with his beautiful dark eyes.
Then he nods. “Fine.”
Wait. What?
“Fine?”
“Yeah. You can go back to work.”
I blink. “Really, that easy?” I was expecting more of a fight.
“On one condition.”
Of course.
“What is it?”
“I drive you there and pick you up.” I open my mouth to argue. “Non-negotiable,” he adds in a final tone.
I stare at this stubborn, possessive man who just agreed to my terms. Compromising, meeting me halfway.
“Fine,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest like some surly teenager.
He chuckles, then pulls me into his arms and kisses me. My body melts into his, my hands fisting his shirt, as his tongue slides between my lips, making me moan.
When he breaks the kiss, Zak rests his forehead against mine. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
I reply breathlessly, “Right back at you.”
He lets out a low, raspy laugh that drips down my spine like warm honey and blooms between my legs, over my hard nipples… I need to get us out of this dangerous zone.
“Let me see your wound.”
Smirking, because he knows exactly what I’m doing, Zak pulls back and unbuttons his shirt. When he shrugs it off, I have to bite back a moan. Because, fuck, he’s gorgeous. All that tattooed skin. Those muscles. The contrast with the stark white bandage wrapped around his torso.
I carefully peel back the bandage. The wound looks good, clean. There’s no sign of infection. It’s healing well.
“Looks good,” I murmur, gently running my fingers over a patch of skin below his stitches.
“Yeah?” His voice is all rasp.
I swallow hard. “Yeah. You’re healing fast.”
“Good.” His hand comes up, cupping my face. Tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Because I need to be at full strength for what I’m about to do to you.”
My breath catches. “What are you about to do to me?”
“Everything.” He leans down, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Gonna fuck you, wife. Claim you. Finally make you mine.”
Oh God.
“Here?” I whisper.
Another dark chuckle. “Here. Now. On my desk. Against the wall. In our bed. Everywhere, baby.”
“Zak…”
“Say yes.”
I should say no, slow this insanity down, think. But I don’t want to. Can’t. Not with the heat from his body warming up to my core. His strength surrounding me. His deep eyes blazing for me. This impossible, one-of-a-kind man wants me. Fucking needs me.
I finally breathe out, “Yes.”
He growls. Actually growls. Then he’s kissing me again. Hard. All-consuming. Hands everywhere. Fucking devouring me with his entire body.
He lifts me on top of the desk and steps between my legs, his big hands sliding under my shirt to pull it over my head.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he mutters, staring at me in just my bra.
He reaches behind me, unclasps it, and lets it fall.
Then his mouth is on my breast, sucking, biting, driving me fucking insane.
I arch into his touch, my hands in his hair, and finally admit, “I need you.”
“You got me.” He pulls back, eyes wild. “All of me. Forever.”
Then he unbuttons my jeans, pulls them down along with my panties, leaving me bare on the lacquered wood of his desk.
He steps back, looking at me, drinking me in, already fucking me with his eyes.
“Fucking perfect,” he rumbles.
Then he’s undoing his belt, his pants, and frees himself. And fuck! He’s huge… Thick. Hard. Dripping precum. Fucking ready.
He groans, stepping between my legs. “Gonna make it so fucking good for you, wife.”
“Okay,” I breathe out, nodding frantically. Already shaking. My whole body, buzzing. More ready than I’ve ever been for anything in my life. Fuck tomorrow. Fuck consequences. Fuck reality. I want this man. No, I fucking need him more than my next breath.
Zak positions himself at my entrance. The head of his cock pressing against me, teasing.
And my eyelids drop as my lips part on a loud moan.
Fuck. He feels incredible. Thick and hot, parting me, rubbing against my pulsating clit.
He’s barely touched me and I’m already feeling pleasure spread throughout my body.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I force myself to open my eyes and meet his scorching gaze.
“You’re mine, Nadia. Say it.”
I moan, shaking my head, biting my lip. And he gives me just the tip. Barely breaching my entrance. I whimper, contracting around him, trying to pull him in. “I’m yours.”
He licks the side of my neck. “Good girl.”
Then he pushes inside me. Slowly. Stretching me.
Filling me. Impossibly long and girthy. Like he will never end, never bottom out.
Like he’s gonna stuff me so full, I’ll burst at the seams. I gasp, my nails digging into his bulky shoulders, and lets out a satisfied groan, biting the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
“Fuuuuuck… so fucking tight.”
He keeps pushing deeper. Inch by life-shattering inch. Until finally, finally he’s fully seated inside me. Balls deep. Stretching me so good. Filling me so full. Like never before. No one. Nothing. Ever. God, how will I ever get enough of this man.
We both freeze. Just breathing. Feeling.
“You okay?” he asks in a strained voice. His forehead resting against mine, sweat dripping between us, both breathing heavily through our parted lips.
I nod, moving to lick a drop of sweat from the corner of his mouth. “Yeah… God, yes.”
Zak nods back, his blazing gaze never leaving mine as he starts moving. Slow at first. Deep. Deliberate. Every thrust hitting all the most delicious spots inside me. Like his fat cock has a freaking map of my pussy.
I moan, my head falling back.
“That’s it, wife,” he growls. “Take your husband’s cock. Fucking take all of me.”
Then he picks up his pace. Harder. Faster. The desk creaking under us.
“Zak… oh God… Baby…”
“You feel that?” He leans to lick into my mouth like he can’t help himself, before rasping against my lips, “feel how deep I am, baby? How you’re squeezing me? Fuck, wife. You were made for me.”
I can’t think. Can’t speak. Can only feel. Him inside me. Around me. Fucking consuming me.
“Gonna fill you up,” he growls. “Gonna come inside you. Fucking breed you.”
Oh fuck.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, please…”
He slams into me. Hard. Deep. Over and over.
I’m so fucking close. Trembling all over. Pulling him impossibly close to ravage his mouth, clamping down on his dick. Rolling my hips to meet his savage thrusts. Crying out as waves of pleasure course through me.
“Come for me,” he orders me. “Let me feel you cream all over my cock.”
And I do. I fucking explode. Screaming his name. My pussy clenching around him. Milking him.
Zak follows. Freaking roaring. Spilling inside me with rope after rope of hot, thick cream.
Deep and endless. Pushing it inside me, thrusting till the very last tremor, and beyond it.
Kissing me, squeezing me with his arms, whispering how beautiful and perfect and so fucking good I am for him. All his. Only his. For fucking ever.
Oh God…