Chapter 9
Nikolai
The second the car door closes, Zara is on me without hesitation or fear.
My wife climbs on my lap like she can’t get close enough, her glorious thighs straddling me, her small hands fisting my hair as she crashes her mouth to mine.
And fuck, the weight of her, soft and warm, her full ass settled on my cock, her tits pressing against my chest…
she fits like she was fucking made for me.
The kiss is desperate, hungry, and she tastes so fucking sweet.
“Fuck,” I breathe against her lips. “Zara…”
“No one,” she pants between kisses, “has ever stood up for me like that. Not since my parents died.”
Her words hit me like a fucking bullet. Since her parents died.
She was sixteen. For six goddamn years, my woman has been out there alone.
No one standing between her and the world.
No one losing their shit when someone got in her face.
No one willing to burn it all down for her. Six years of nobody giving a fuck.
My hands tighten on her hips. I want to find every person who ever let her down, every landlord who threatened eviction, every asshole customer at that diner who looked at her wrong, and put them in the fucking ground.
She’s kissing me like she means it. Like she wants to be here. And for the first time since this whole mess started, it doesn’t feel like I’m taking from her. It feels like she’s giving herself to me.
“Thank you,” she whispers against my mouth, and her voice cracks on the words.
I pull back to look at her. Really look.
Her lips are swollen, her dark eyes shining.
She’s so fucking beautiful it makes my chest hurt.
And the way she’s looking at me… not like a prisoner staring at her captor.
Not like a woman tolerating a monster’s touch.
Like a wife looking at her husband. Fuck.
I cup her face, my thumbs brushing her cheekbones, and kiss her again. Slower. Tasting her. Memorizing this moment because something just shifted between us and we both fucking know it.
She rocks against me and I groan into her mouth, my hands sliding to grip her full hips, pulling her harder against my cock. She’s so warm, even through our clothes. Her soft belly pressing against me, her legs squeezing, her fingers scratching my scalp.
“Baby,” I groan, pulling back just enough to look at her.
Her eyes are dark with need when she reaches between us and palms my cock through my pants. Jesus Christ. My hips jerk into her hand, and she lets out a sultry moan, knowing exactly what she does to me. My innocent wife, jerking off her husband in the back of a car with zero shame.
I’m about to say fuck it and take her right here when I catch movement in the rearview mirror. My driver, Yuri, very deliberately adjusting it to face the ceiling. In the passenger seat, my man, Kolya is staring out the window like the parking lot is the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
Right. We’re parked outside a police station, with two of my men sitting in the car’s front. With only the partition between us.
“Not here,” I manage, even though it’s killing me. “At home.”
She chews on her bottom lip, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Promise?”
I chuckle. My wife was just interrogated by the police as a potential witness for a crime I committed, and she’s asking me to promise I’ll fuck her later. I really am a lucky bastard. “I promise, wife.”
“Then take me home, husband,” she says, and settles back next to me.
But she keeps her hand on my thigh the entire ride, her thumb tracing small circles that make it impossible to think about anything except getting her naked and showing her exactly how grateful I am that she’s mine. All fucking mine.