Chapter 11 #2
“Remember, you are mine now,” he says before he sears me with a kiss that I, reluctantly, feel in my core. His lips are soft like petals, the exact opposite of his hard and harsh exterior. And then there’s the taste of him— all sin and heartbreak.
My downfall. My damnation. My anguish and relief.
I relax in his arms, shamelessly groaning when he deepens the kiss.
Then, my mind goes blank.
***
One moment, I’m kissed so thoroughly that I think I’m standing in front of the white pearly gates of heaven. Then the next moment, I’m in the middle of a foyer inside a room I’ve never been in before.
It’s been an hour since Nikolai brought me to our marital suite. All he said was to be clean and be ready when he got back.
Ready for what exactly?
He didn’t show me around the room, just dropped me off at the door and scurried off as if staying next to me a second longer would set him ablaze.
I wish that could be true. But the only way I can burn him is with my eyes and I plan to burn a hole in the side of his face when he gets back.
The room is basically an apartment. There’s the foyer leading to a lounge area with a black sectional couch, square coffee table, large black area rugs, and a television.
Nice, I get to binge trash TV.
I run and hug the mounted TV, it must be an eighty plus inch. “You and I are going to be best friends!”
How many weeks of reality TV have I missed? I know I missed the season finale of Who’s that Girl . It’s a modeling contestant show and the winner was going to be announced the night someone’s father decided I was going to be his involuntary daughter-in-law.
If it wasn’t for those damn shadows, I’m more than confident I could body slam him to the middle of next week.
After getting acquainted with Mr. TV, I move deeper into the apartment until I find the bedroom. There’s a large, upholstered Alaskan king bed on the south wall of the room, next to the floor to ceiling windows. It overlooks the beach.
It’s beautiful.
Venturing into the walk-in closet, I notice that the space is filled with his scent— lavender, gunmetal and my archnemesis. There’re dressers and racks embedded into the walls. Opening the first set of drawers, I find women’s nightgowns. Some modest, some revealing.
Yea, I think not.
Pulling out more drawers, I find what I assume are his clothes and then his pajamas.
I pull out a black T-shirt and black loose pants.
Bringing them to my body, I decide they will fit me.
Ditching the wedding gown, I pull on the clothes and they fit.
They’re not that loose or big enough to swallow me by any means, but they’re comfortable.
“I don’t think my sweats are something that will set the wedding mood,” Nikolai says as he walks in the bedroom.
He’s all disheveled. His suit jacket is long gone and his tie is loosened. Only thing that is still pristine is his slicked-back ponytail.
“There’s no mood to be set,” I say as I cross my arms around me, turning my gaze to the scenic view of the ocean.
“Listen, Aspen, this doesn’t have to mean anything—”
“No, you listen Nikolai, I don’t care that we’re married, I will never subject myself to meaningless sex. Ever.” My words come out quick and sharp. “Just because you are my husband, you do not own me as real estate, as property. I don’t have to sleep with you. You can’t command me to.”
He rubs his hand over his face. “We have to prove that we consummated our union.”
“No,” I snap, glaring at him.
He steps towards me.
Is he going to force himself on me? Surely not. Through every argument, every threat and every shadow restraint, he has never once looked at me with ill intent. Annoyance, yes. Intrigue, most certainly. Cold indifference, absolutely. But with predatory hunger aimed to harm me? Never.
Sensing my unease, he stretches his arms out in mock surrender. “Tell me what’s making you uncomfortable? Are you a virgin? Inexperience? ”
Yes. “No, of course not.”
He covers his eyes and then bobs his head. “Right, well we won’t need blood as proof of your virginity, but we need proof of sex all the same.”
Barking out, I ask, “what are you suggesting because I’m not touching you and you for damn sure are not touching me. For all I know, you just came back from fucking Quinn with how you came back all disheveled. And by all means, let her have you because we will never cross that line.”
“One. I didn’t fuck Quinn. I take my wedding vows fucking seriously.”
“Good.”
“Two. If word got around that we didn’t complete our final test in holy matrimony,” he sighs, then he continues.
“You going back home will no longer be on the board. Because not doing this,” he gestures between us, “it invokes Bratva’s way of treason.
I can make it that we don’t touch each other. Do you trust me?”
Out of all the times I have interacted with this aloof man, I’ve never seen him willing to compromise on something.
“I don’t trust you,” I ground out before I could soften my words. He did help me with my mild panic attack earlier, I can at least see what he will do. “But I can try.”
“First, put on a nightgown, leave your panties off.”
He removes his tie, then his shirt. He keeps removing his clothes until he was in nothing but his black briefs. He has way more tattoos than I could ever imagine. There’s ink on his arms, they trail over his shoulder, to his chest and down to the V of his— pelvis.
I wince once I notice that I was three seconds from looking at his… print . It’s large, freakishly large. Even if I entertained the thought for a tiny moment, no way that thing would ever enter me.
Ever.
Quickly averting my eyes and willing my heart to stop pounding so hard, I reply to his long forgotten command. “Right, ok.”
After changing, I walk back into the room with a black, completely covering, nightgown. Nikolai sits on the side of the bed, waiting for me. The slight chill in the air hardens my nipples. He notices it too and those icy silver eyes dilate.
“I promise I won’t touch you. I will finish this quickly for us and then we can pretend that this never happened.”
I let out a jagged breath as I stand a foot before him, tugging down the bottom lace of the gown. This is the closest I have ever been to a half-naked man who, not only has a body of a god, but looks like one.
“Get in the bed,” he gently orders and I follow. “Lie on your back and I will do the same.”
“And what exactly is supposed to be happening right now?” I ask as I stare at the ceiling, watching the sunset’s pink and purple colors dance across it.
“Close your eyes,” his tone is firm yet still gentle. I do as he says, not sure why I’m trusting him right now. He hasn’t done anything to earn this from me. In spite of all that, here I am blindly allowing him to lead me to certain oblivion.
Lying there, I can only hear his and my breathing. It’s slow and oddly in sync. Then I feel him. Not him, his shadows. They spread around my feet and ankles. They’re warm. I didn’t notice that fact earlier. They continue to slither up until they reach my core.
I flinch at the sudden contact. Turning my head to face Niko —
“Keep your eyes closed.”
This time I don’t obey, I look at him. His molten silver eyes are completely black and hooded.
“You never listen, do you?”
I’m just about to hit him with a snarky reply when his shadows slip between my folds and flick my clit. Instantly I close my eyes and groan. His shadow tendrils firmly tug my face and my eyes land on his again.
“No. Eyes on me, Aspen.”
His shadows flutter across every inch of my skin, leaving ripples of pleasure in their wake.
His eyes never leave mine. They wholly devour every moan, every whimper, every plea.
When his shadow pinches my nipples and clit at the same time, pleasure I have never felt before ricochets throughout my body.
Oh gods .
Arching my back, blind eruptions of radiating ecstasy spread across me, consuming me. It feels as though I’m falling down the endless abyss.
He certainly did lead me to oblivion.
Once the light returns to my eyes and I regain somewhat steady airflow in my lungs, I see his dark ones. His shadows tug me forward and he kisses me. Nikolai steals each of my breaths as if they were his last. It’s intoxicating and intense, but I crave more of it, more of him.
Biting my lower lip, he grunts.
The grey slowly returns to his eyes and he looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. It’s raw, unguarded. We’re both trying to reconcile what just happened. But then he clenches his jaw.
I blanch at the realization that I allowed Nikolai Volkov to shadow fuck me to the next universe. To the next dimension. Nothing we just did, or didn’t do, was on my list of things that would happen tonight.
I can’t say that I regret it.
Does he?
His breathing is ragged as he runs a hand over his face, before he gets out of bed. That’s when I notice his boxer briefs are gone and his third leg is free swaying between his thighs. He must have taken his briefs off at some point while we were lost in each other.
I sit up, pushing myself back against the headboard.
Covering myself, embarrassment and confusion drowns me, clogging my throat.
Did he hate what we’ve done that badly?
“Aspen, step out of the bed for a moment. I’m going to pull the sheets,” he says apprehensively.
He holds out his hand, I take it and slide out. Once I’m out, I watch as he takes his cum and smear it in the place I was just in before gathering the covers.
“There are fresh sheets in the closet.”
That’s all he says before he walks out of the room, in all his glory, with the black wet fitted sheet in tow.
What the hell just happened?