Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Riley
"Home?" Confusion laced my voice.
"Our home." His voice dropped to that low register that always made my heart race. "Our manor."
Our home. Those two words filled some long-empty corner inside me.
This wasn't the first time he'd tried to get me to move into the manor.
He'd been trying to pry me out of that crappy little apartment for weeks, to tuck me into his estate with its gardens and doctors and armed guards at every corner.
But honestly? I was still freaking out. I'd had my fill of depending on others.
I was terrified of giving all of myself to this man, terrified that if he changed his mind someday, I'd have nowhere left to go.
"Why so quiet?" He caught my silence, his hand covering mine where it rested on my lap. "Still don't want to?"
"That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
His palm's warmth seeped through my skin, straight to my heart. I bit my lower lip and finally said what I'd been holding back.
"I'm just scared." I stared out at the thick darkness beyond the window and sighed softly. "I'm scared I'll get used to how good you are to me, get used to having you around, and then... what if one day you don't want me anymore? What do I do then?"
And there were the two babies. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach.
Matvey turned to face me immediately, his grey-green eyes darker in the dim light.
"Riley." He cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. "Look at me."
I met those grey-green eyes.
"There aren't many things in this world that can make me bow." Each word fell heavy, landing right on my heart. "You're the only person I'd trade the whole damn world for."
"I won't stop wanting you. Not in this lifetime."
His thumb brushed my lips, the burning touch making me shiver.
"Besides," he leaned close to my ear, his voice rough and low, "you're carrying my two kids. Riley, you think I could bear to let you go?"
My face burned. I shot him a look.
Here we were, and this man still had time to flirt.
"So," his voice softened even more, "move to the manor, okay? I want to open my eyes every morning and see you."
My eyes stung.
I looked at his face so close to mine, at the tenderness churning in his eyes, and the wall I'd built to protect myself crumbled.
"Okay." I nodded gently.
The moment the word left my mouth, I saw his pupils tremble in the light.
"Riley, I'm not dreaming, am I?"
"It's real." I smiled.
"I thought you were going to turn me down again." Those all-knowing eyes held something rare—hesitation.
"Because... I figured it out." My voice was soft. "I believe you won't let me down. You'll give me the happiest life."
He froze.
In that instant, I clearly saw his eyes film over with moisture.
"Then... have you forgiven me?"
Forgiven. He'd waited so long for that word, asked so carefully for it.
My heart ached and melted at once. I nodded hard. The next second, he crushed me into his arms.
The drive from downtown to the manor wasn't short. By the time the car rolled to a stop at the manor's entrance, it was nearly midnight. Matvey took my hand and led me past the brightly lit main building toward the back garden.
"Where are we going?" Confusion colored my voice.
He didn't answer, just tightened his grip on my hand.
When he pushed open the ornate iron gate at the end of the corridor, I stopped breathing.
It was a garden too beautiful to be real. Moonlight spilled like water over a sea of blooming flowers. Hyacinths and roses swayed gently in the night breeze.
I'd always thought gardens like this only existed in movies.
"It's beautiful..." I whispered.
Before I could recover from the shock of this floral paradise, the man beside me released my hand. Then, under that bright moonlight, he dropped to one knee.
I held my breath.
This man who'd spent his whole life standing on top of the world, looking down on everyone, was kneeling now—kneeling in moonlight and flowers, kneeling before me.
He pulled a small velvet box from inside his suit jacket. He opened it slowly. A ruby ring lay inside.
The red was deep and intense, like trapped fire, casting a mesmerizing glow in the moonlight. Clearly no ordinary piece.
"This was my mother's." Matvey looked up at me, his voice solemn. "It's the Bykov family heirloom. I've carried it with me all these years."
"Riley Quinn." He held the ring, his voice clear and steady. "Will you marry me?"
He was proposing! Matvey Bykov was proposing to me! The scene I'd never dared even dream about was happening right in front of me.
I covered my mouth, but tears spilled out anyway.
I wanted to say yes, wanted to reach out immediately. But somehow, beneath that tidal wave of happiness, a voice from my deepest insecurity broke through first.
"Veronica..." My voice broke. "Did she... did she ever wear this ring?"
She'd been his legitimate wife, after all. Even if he said yes, I'd have to accept it.
But I was terrified. Terrified he'd nod and say this ring holding all his devotion had once sparkled on another woman's finger.
"No." He shook his head, his gaze honest and deep. "Veronica never had the right to touch it."
"The last person to wear this ring," he paused, "was my mother."
I froze.
I knew his mother had died when he was young. I vaguely knew it was the deepest wound in his heart. That day on the bench, when he'd mentioned his mother, the sadness on his face couldn't be hidden.
He'd placed the most precious, most painful thing in his world right in front of me.
"Why... me?"
"Because this ring will only go on the woman I truly love." He said, "And that's you. Only you."
I couldn't form a complete sentence, could only nod frantically.
"I will... I'll marry you."
He took my hand and solemnly slipped the cool ruby onto my ring finger.
"Thank you, Riley." He stood and pulled me tight into his arms, gently wiping away my tears.
But the gentler he was, the harder I cried.
Only this time, I cried from happiness so full it was overflowing.
I don't remember how we got to that bedroom with the big bed.
I only remember his kisses never stopped.
From the garden to the corridor, from the stairs to the bedroom door, he kissed me like he needed to pour out all those days of restraint and patience in one night.
His kisses started gentle, but gradually his hand slid through my hair, gripped the back of my head, kissed me until I couldn't breathe. I could feel his hunger to swallow me whole.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind us.
"Riley, I've waited too long for this moment." He pressed me against the door, his grey-green eyes burning bright. "I've always wanted to be your husband, to cherish you, take care of you—"
"And fuck you like I have every goddamn right to."
Heat pooled in my belly. I knew I was soaked. I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Our mouths moved together, desperate and hungry, as we stripped away every barrier between us. Fabric hit the floor until there was nothing left but skin on skin. He lifted me, and we tumbled onto the bed, our bodies tangling together.
His mouth left mine and began a slow, torturous journey downward.
He kissed my throat, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts.
His lips traced my ribs, my stomach—lingering there with a tenderness that made my heart clench—then lower still.
He kissed my thighs, my knees, my ankles, all the way down to my toes.
My whole body trembled. Every nerve ending felt electrified.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed against my skin. "I can't help myself around you."
This time, I had no shame holding me back. "I want you to," I whispered. "So much."
His eyes darkened. "I'm going to make you completely mine."
I knew what that meant. I knew his preferences, what he liked. My pulse kicked up, but I nodded. "Okay."
He reached for something on the nightstand—a silk blindfold. He brought it to my face, his movements slow and deliberate. "Trust me," he whispered against my ear as he tied it in place.
Darkness swallowed my vision. Every other sense sharpened.
I heard him move, heard the soft whisper of rope sliding through his hands. Then his touch—his fingers trailing up my wrist, positioning my arm. The rope followed, wrapping around my skin in careful loops.
"Your body was made for this," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful like this. Look at you, these curves, this full, gorgeous body tied up just for me."
My breath hitched. Heat flooded through me.
He continued his work methodically—binding my wrists, my arms, creating intricate patterns across my torso that framed my breasts. The rope wasn't tight enough to hurt, but firm enough that I felt deliciously trapped.
"Perfect," he breathed. "You look perfect."
Then his hand was between my legs, fingers pressing, rubbing. I gasped and arched against the sensation.
"That's it," he said. "Let me hear you."
A moan escaped before I could stop it.
Without warning, he thrust inside me. I cried out—the sudden fullness overwhelming after all that teasing build-up.
"You're going to come when I tell you to," he commanded, his voice rough. "Not before. Understand?"
I nodded frantically, words beyond me.
He started moving—hard, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside me. Pleasure coiled tight in my belly, building faster than I could control.
"Not yet," he warned when I whimpered. "Hold it."
"Please," I gasped. "Please, I need—"
He slowed his rhythm deliberately. "Need what?"
"Please let me come. Please. I can't..."
"You can." His thumb found my clit, circling. "And you will. But first, I want to hear you say it properly."
My face burned. "Say what?"
"Call me what I am." His breath was hot against my neck.
Oh God.
"Honey," I breathed, my voice shaking. "Please, honey."
"More."
"Baby, please. My baby, please let me—"
"Husband," he prompted.
My whole body felt like it was on fire. "Husband. Please, husband, I need to come so badly. Please."
"That's my good girl." His pace picked up again, harder, faster. "Come for me, Riley. Come on your husband's cock."
Permission. Finally.
The orgasm hit like a lightning strike, tearing through every nerve. I screamed, my body convulsing around him, the ropes holding me in place as I shook apart.
He didn't stop. His movements grew more erratic, chasing his own release. "You feel so good. So perfect. Mine. All mine."
"Yours," I managed. "Only yours."
He groaned and buried himself deep, his whole body tensing. I felt him pulse inside me, felt his hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise.
The bedroom had almost turned into his playground—and I found myself enjoying it too.
For a long moment, we just breathed.
Then, with gentle hands, he untied the ropes. He removed the blindfold last, and I blinked up at him in the dim light. His eyes were soft now, tender.
"Okay?" he asked quietly.
"More than okay." I reached up to touch his face. "Perfect."
He gathered me close, and we collapsed together onto the bed.
Moonlight painted us both in soft silver. In the stillness of the night, only our heartbeats and breathing remained, the only language we needed.
For the first time, I truly understood what it meant for souls to embrace.
I curled into his arms, listening to his steadying heartbeat, my mind wandering to thoughts of our future. His arm held me close, his palm resting gently on my stomach with careful reverence.
"What are you thinking about?" His rough voice came from above my head.
"Thinking about whether our kids will look more like you or me."
He laughed softly, his arm tightening around me.
"Like you." His tone left no room for argument. "Hopefully all of them look exactly like you."
I couldn't help laughing.
"That won't work." I tilted my head to look at him. "At least one of them should inherit those gorgeous eyes of yours, right?"
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and didn't answer.
But I could feel him smiling too.
Was this what happiness felt like?
I used to think a girl like me—worthless, with nothing—was only ever meant to hide in corners, looking up at the light from a distance.
I never imagined that one day, the light would walk right up to me, bend down, and pull me completely into its embrace.