Chapter 6
Nikolai
I wake up to the sight of my wife curled against the far edge of my king-size bed, as far from me as she can get without falling off the fucking thing. The morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows hits her skin, making her look like a fucking fantasy.
My fantasy. My wife. Mine.
Zara’s in my bed.
She’s still asleep, breathing deeply. Her dark hair is spread across the white pillowcase. The sheet’s slipped down, showing the soft curve of her shoulder.
My cock stirs as I remember how she felt, how she sounded when I made her come over and over. How tight and perfect she was, how she cried my name when I claimed her.
She’s gonna be sore as hell. The thought sends heat straight to my dick. She’ll feel me with every step she takes today, a constant reminder of who fucking owns her.
I check my phone, 7:30. I got shit to do, meetings. But first, I need to take care of my wife.
I slide out of bed carefully so I don’t wake her, pull on pajama pants, and head to the kitchen.
When I return to the bedroom, Zara’s awake, sitting up against the headboard with the sheet clutched to her chest. Her eyes are wide and wary, like she’s ready to run. And she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Morning, wife,” I say, setting the tray on the bedside table next to her. Coffee, scrambled eggs, fresh berries, and toast with honey. Freshly made by my chef.
She doesn’t say shit, just watches me. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, probably trying to figure out how to escape.
“Brought you breakfast.” I sit on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch her but holding back for now. Giving her a little break after the intensity of our night. Shit, I had to carry her to bed half-unconscious.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, you are.” I pour coffee into a cup, adding cream and sugar. “Especially after last night.”
At the reminder, Zara looks away. I smirk thinking about how much I fucking love that she’ll never be able to hide much from me.
“Here.” I hold out the cup.
She hesitates, then reaches for it with a shaky hand.
“Good girl,” I murmur, and watch her cheeks darken. Fuck, I could sit here just staring at my wife all day.
“We need to talk,” I say when she finally takes a small bite.
Her body tenses. “About what?”
“Your new life.” I study her face closely. “You’re not just Zara Thompson anymore. You’re Mrs. Nikolai Maksimov.”
“And?”
I pull out a black credit card and set it on the bedside table. “No limits. Buy whatever you want.”
She stares at it like it might bite her before gritting out. “I don’t want your money.”
“Too bad, it’s yours.” I pick up a strawberry and hold it to her mouth. “Open.”
She glares at me but parts her lips, letting me feed her the fruit. The sight of her mouth this close to my fingers sends heat straight to my cock.
“You’ll also have security,” I continue. “My enemies might try to use you to get to me.”
Fear flickers in her eyes. “Enemies?”
I nod. “That’s what the security’s for.” I trace a finger along her throat and feel her shiver. “Our men are the best. They’ll keep you safe.”
“Safe from everyone but you,” she bites out.
I smirk, loving that she’s still feisty after everything. “I would never hurt you, Zara.”
She scoffs, raising her eyebrows.
“There’ll also be events,” I continue, ignoring the attitude. For now…
“I hate you.”
I smile wickedly, remembering how she clung to me last night, milking my cock, marking my skin with her nails, her teeth… “No, you don’t.” I brush a tear off her cheek.
She turns away, but I catch her chin and force her to look at me.
“Finish your breakfast, wife,” I order, standing.
I’m almost to the door when her voice stops me.
“Nikolai?”
I turn.
“Why me?” she asks, looking me straight in the eye. “You could have killed me that night. Or, I don’t know… exiled me. Why marriage?”
I don’t hesitate. “Because the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine.”
I leave her with that, closing the door behind me.