21. Tatiana
21
TATIANA
M y blood is boiling as I storm toward my office, my fists clenched as I consider how I’m supposed to manage this new curveball Lucian has thrown at me. As dangerous as it might be, I’m tempted to believe him. The sincerity in his face, in his voice, is almost enough to convince me, but alarm bells keep going off in the back of my head, warning me that something’s off.
The fact that his deal is with the yakuza has me more than a little on edge. Saturo Takumi is notorious for stabbing his business partners in the back. No wonder Lucian’s men think they’re going to take me down with the help of the yakuza. My father stopped doing business with Saturo years ago—even though he’s our closest neighbor and most direct path into the country—because he’s burned us too many times.
Which means, in my estimation, either Lucian is being played the fool, or he’s in on the plot. And that would make my Bratva the most likely target. It’s no secret that Saturo has had his eye on our territory for years, and what terrifies me most is that while I was recklessly close to falling for Lucian, he might have been using our “honeymoon” to distract me so this deal could go through.
What if my men hadn’t happened to walk into that bar at just the right time?
It cuts deep to think Lucian could be using me like a pawn yet again.
The office door clicks softly closed behind me, and I whirl to face my husband. It only irritates me further when my heart skips a beat at his unexpected proximity, the scent of lemon and vetiver that automatically triggers excitement deep in my belly. My breath catches, and I release it slowly to try and regain my composure.
“I’m not after your territory, tesoro ,” Lucian insists, his fingers trapping my chin and tipping it up so I have to meet his eyes. “I won’t let the yakuza have it either. This deal has nothing to do with Sokolov business at all, and I will put my men in their place for spreading rumors like that.” His hazel eyes are round and soft, imploring me to believe him.
I want to. It aches all over to think that after everything we’ve been through—all the anger I’ve only just started to let go of—Lucian would turn around and betray me again. But I can’t just ignore the fact that he’s doing business with the yakuza.
“Let’s set aside the question of whether I believe you about what my men accidentally overheard when your men thought they weren’t listening,” I state, slapping his hand away and crossing my arms defensively beneath my breasts. “Are you crazy? Striking a deal with Saturo Takumi? You can’t possibly be that stupid.”
“Can’t I?” he teases playfully, his lips curving into that cocky smirk that drives me crazy.
“He’s a liar. Whatever agreement you think you made, he’ll betray you just as likely as he’ll keep his word. I can’t believe you don’t know that by now. Why the hell didn’t you think to discuss the matter with me if you wanted to do something so risky? We’re supposed to be allies, but you went behind my back to make this deal.”
“I don’t see why you’re getting so angry. You’re the one who wanted to keep our business separate, principessa ,” he points out, sounding far too reasonable for my liking. “Besides, this deal has been in the works for a while now. It’s what I need to do to manage my business if you’re not ready to work together like the allies I want us to be, so I intend to see it through.”
“So, this is my fault now,” I demand, cutting through the fluff to get to the real point he’s trying to make.
“I didn’t say that. I agreed to keep our business separate. You handle your men and I handle mine. I understand why you don’t want to be partners, and I’m not interested in forcing your hand. Either we can be allies—real allies—or we can’t. But you are my wife, and I won’t push you to make business arrangements you don’t want to make. That means, until we can find an understanding, I have to find other means of handling my business. Saturo came to me with a good solution, an interested buyer. Saturo stands to make a lot of money on this deal, so he has no reason to betray me.”
“Don’t do it,” I warn, my voice almost pleading as I drop my arms and take a half step forward. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Aw, tesoro ,” Lucian teases softly, trapping my fingers lightly and bringing them to his lips. “Does that mean you’re starting to worry about my safety?”
He brushes a kiss across my knuckles, sending a shiver through my core, and I take a shuddering breath as his gaze warms.
A soft scoff rushes past my lips as I try to blow him off. “Hardly. But I’m tied to you now, and it will make me look weak if my husband gets killed in some stupid business deal.”
If I’m being honest with myself, it gives me intense anxiety to think of Lucian losing his head to the yakuza. And that realization opens up an emotional can of worms I’m not at all prepared to face. But as Lucian tugs me closer, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, I don’t have the willpower to pull away.
“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, his hands finding my waist as he tilts his head to trail kisses down the curve of my neck.
“What? Getting killed over a stupid deal?” I quip, but the bite in my tone is gone, replaced by a breathiness that makes me blush.
Lucian chuckles, low and dark, the sound vibrating through my body and making my stomach knot.
“No, that you’re tied to me,” he murmurs, nipping my skin softly.
Heat explodes through my core, the romantic tenor to his words almost as impactful as their sexual undercurrent. I hate how easily he can disarm me—how anytime I’m ready to smash something and scream in his face over what he’s done, all he has to do is touch me and I melt. But I’m finding it impossible to recall why I felt so betrayed in the first place. Lucian knows how to logic me out of every argument—and channel all that residual emotion into a desire I never knew I possessed before I became his wife.
I hate it. And at the same time, I don’t want it to stop.
“Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you try to protect me?” Lucian murmurs, his hands sliding down my hips to curl around the hem of my pencil skirt.
“Lucian, we’re in the middle of solving a massive issue,” I argue, my breaths coming more quickly as I take a step back.
“No. We got to the bottom of the matter,” he assures me, following each step as I try to back away. His hands palm my ass, pulling me against him, and he gives it a firm squeeze to emphasize his words. “From the sound of it, my men need to be put in their place, and I assure you, I’ll take care of it. Just as soon as I’m finished bending you over that desk and showing you the kind of plans I have for my wife.”
Heat throbs through my core at his dark promise. This feels so wrong—fighting and then fucking in my office while my men wait to hear that the conflict has been resolved. But I can’t control Lucian. He’s going to get what he wants. And right now, I really want it too. It’s an unfair advantage—just how good he is at sex. Whenever I try to stand my ground, all he has to do is slip a finger inside me to obliterate my resolve.
As he drags my skirt up around my waist, the backs of my bare thighs hit the edge of my desk. He leans in, sweeping an arm across the surface to scatter papers and pencils onto the floor as he makes space for me. Then he grasps the nape of my neck as he leans over me, stealing a fiery kiss. My pulse launches into a sprint, my body bursting into flames of desire as I brace against my palms, pressing up into him. Our tongues tangle, and a small voice in the back of my head fills me with self-loathing as it reminds me that we’re doing this in my father’s old office—a space that would still belong to him if he were alive.
But even that can’t seem to stop me as Lucian breaks our searing kiss, his eyes molten as they meet mine for just a moment. Then he turns me, one hand on the back of my neck, the other against my hip as he spins me to face the other direction and pushes me down onto the desk—hips bent over the edge, my ass is on full display, only the thin slip of fabric from my thong to cover me. His fingers tangle in my hair, keeping me pinned down—not forcefully, but with enough pressure that I can’t just move freely.
Excitement quivers in my stomach as I grip the edges of the desk. What we did on the patio in Positano was so much more exposed than this, but something about having everyone that matters to me just a door away makes it feel that much more devious, that much more exciting. I’ve never let go, never pushed boundaries. I’ve always been so careful about following the rules and expectations laid down for me, and secretly, I love the way Lucian pushes me out of that comfort zone. He makes me feel so alive, and at the same time, I can feel the shame already starting to creep in. I want this, and that makes me a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad leader to my men.
The sound of Lucian’s zipper lowering snaps me back into the moment, and my breathing quickens as I realize he’s going to make this fast. He doesn’t even take off my panties this time as he hooks a finger around the thin strip of fabric and pushes it aside. Then his silken tip slides between my pussy lips, and I moan as I realize just how wet I am.
It’s becoming like a Pavlovian effect.
“My perfect, sexy little pussy,” he murmurs. “Always so eager for me, aren’t you?”
Lucian thrusts inside me, sliding all the way up to the hilt, and he groans with appreciation. Then he reaches around, his fingers slipping beneath my panties as he lightly flicks my clit. I whimper, biting my lips together so I don’t make too much noise. I would die of mortification if Natasha or my men came in to save me only to find out I’m screaming with pleasure.
“I know I can make you say my name, tesoro , but can you come on my cock without making a sound?” Lucian teases, his trusts growing more adamant as his fingers tease my clit mercilessly.
He’s not going slow or taking his time, this is a quickie, meant to relieve the tension between us because that’s how Lucian fixes things when we fight. I doubt it’s a functionally healthy way a typical married couple would go about resolving conflict, but honestly, I don’t know what else would work. The only time I can stop my brain from perseverating on just how wrong it is to want him is when Lucian’s overloading my senses with pleasure that makes me pant.
I white-knuckle the desk, my breaths steaming across the surface of my desk as he pounds into me relentlessly. Every time he slides inside me, bursts of electricity crackle up my spine, sending tingling relief across my skin. Heat builds inside my core, and I know I’m not going to last long. The rough desperation with which he fucks me is turning me on an insane amount—like he meant it when he said he finds it sexy when I try to protect him.
Is that what I was doing?
I close my eyes, pushing the thought from my mind. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with myself—how I can call myself a pakhansha —if I care that much for a man I’ve wanted dead for nearly a year.
And yet, when Lucian tells me to come all over his cock, I can’t stop myself.