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“Why would you be working with the Syndicate?” “That’s a long story, and we don’t have time for it. The important piece is, I just got out of jail to find out Sergey had partnered with Anatoly. While I was locked up, they started a side business in sex trafficking.” He frowns, his jaw tightening. “It was something we swore never to touch, but Sergey got real good at breaking his word.”
This is what irritated me about the last book. This is such an unnatural thing to say in this moment and is only being said to give context to the reader
She’s only had one boyfriend, and he’s damn lucky she dumped him before I got the chance to take care of him.
My heart races, and for a second, I can’t think of a single word to say. But I’m saved by the bartender when he reappears. “Here you go, gorgeous,” he says, sliding a tray of shots toward me with a wink. There are way more shots than I ordered. “Drinks on me tonight. And if you’re interested in a little company later—” “She’s not.” The sexy stranger cuts in, his tone icy. In one smooth motion, he picks up the entire tray and dumps it behind the bar.
“I know you can, but I want to. I’ll be watching you all night, moya sladost. Keep that in mind.”
“Is that what you want? For us to be alone?” I ask when I pull away. She nods and bites her full bottom lip. My pulse kicks up a notch. I’ll give her what she wants, but afterward, she won’t go back to her friends and her neatly laid-out life. She’s coming with me.
He tilts his head, daring me to say his name out loud. “Do you recognize me now, wife?”
“Are you going to glare at me the whole flight? Because it’s another half hour until we land in St. Petersburg. You might want to give that beautiful face of yours a break.”
“You’re my wife, Sofiya. That means you’re my responsibility. Whether you want it or not, I’m going to take care of you… in every way.”
His gaze meets mine and then drifts lower, his expression darkening with every inch his eyes take in. “No.” The single word falls from his lips like a command. “No, what?” I glare at him. “No to that dress,” he says, smoldering with intensity.
A menacing growl leaves his throat. “You are not fine the way you are. No wife of mine is going to walk around this house, around my men, showing that much skin.” “Luckily, I don’t consider myself your wi—”
“You’re a fucking dead man, Zhukov.” Roman’s voice cuts through the line, sharp with fury. “If you’ve hurt her—” “Is that any way to talk to your brother-in-law?”
“If you won’t wear my ring, I’ll tattoo one onto your finger. It’s your choice, Sofiya. But one way or another, no one will question who you belong to.”
Then he gives me an impossible choice: wear his wedding ring or let him tattoo my finger.
Is that really an impossible choice?
I marked her because I wanted to and because the thought of her belonging to anyone else is like a stab to the gut.
His mouth opens like he’s about to say more, but then his eyes flick past me, and his whole body goes rigid. I don’t turn right away. A strange heat prickles at the back of my neck as the air around me feels heavier. I don’t have to look to know who’s behind me. I feel him, his presence unmistakable.
“I didn’t like Emil’s eyes on you in this excuse for a swimsuit.”
“It didn’t look like he was doing his job to me. Seemed like he was enjoying the view.”
Vadim grins, gesturing toward me with his spoon. “Your wife has a pressing request. She’d like her own underwear.” My eyes widen, and heat rushes to my cheeks. “Vadim!” I hiss, mortified.
“You are my wife, Sofiya. I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fly in the best dance instructors in Russia or build you a studio worthy of the Bolshoi. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”
“It won’t matter. By the time they make their move, we will be untouchable.” His tone goes cold. “If you can’t do it, I will.” “You will not fucking touch her,” I growl.
“Do you really think I could hurt you, moya sladost?” he asks, his warm breath ghosting across my sensitive skin. “I don’t know what you’re capable of right now.” “Then let me show you.”
Panic grips me, and my voice rises to a roar. “Are you fucking serious? Get a team together to scour every inch of my property this fucking second. How long has she been missing?” Emil gulps hard. “About four hours.” In an instant, my hand is around his throat, slamming him against the wall. “You didn’t notice she was missing for four fucking hours?”
“Call Dr. Safin,” I order, not breaking stride. “Send her to my bedroom when she arrives.” My bedroom. Soon to be our bedroom because I’m not taking any fucking chances with her anymore. She is my wife and belongs in my bed. But we can have that discussion once she’s healthy.
I slip my arms under her knees and around her back, lifting her easily. The tub is filled, steam curling in delicate swirls.
If she’s that cold, hot water is the worse thing you can do for her. She’ll go into shock
I carefully slide one leg out from under the covers, the cool air hitting my skin. I pause, holding my breath, but he doesn’t stir. Emboldened, I inch my other leg out, shifting my weight toward the edge. As I’m about to lift the sheet and make a break for it, an arm coils around my waist, and I’m yanked back, flush against Nikolai’s very naked, very hard form. “Where do you think you’re going, moya sladost?” His voice is a low murmur in my ear, making my core clench.
“I think it’s best if we… we, uh…” I stumble over my words. Okay, this isn’t going well. I can’t help but respond to his touch. “Niko—you’re naked. We better not…” His growl drowns out the rest of my sentence. “I like it when you call me Niko.”
“And, for the record, I’m not naked. I’m wearing underwear. Only for you, wife, because I usually do sleep naked.”
His hips slide right between my thighs, and just like that, I’ve managed to trap myself in the worst way. A low groan slips out before I can stop it. Nikolai’s gaze turns molten. “Is that an invitation, wife?”
“Oh, sweet wife, you have no idea what you do to me. Your smell, your skin, the sound of your goddamn voice haunts me. It’s like every sweet inch of you was made to drive me insane. Now I’m going to need you to hold on tight because I’m about to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel me for days.”
“Faster,” I plead, rolling my hips to meet his. With one hand gripping my ass, the other slides between us to circle my clit. With every stroke, I’m trembling on the edge.
Sofiya is all I can feel—her skin warm beneath mine, her breath against my lips, her body trembling as she melts into me. It’s overwhelming, this connection, this need to claim her in every way.
Moving carefully so as not to hurt her ankle, I shift her leg higher. Her cry of pleasure makes me throb inside her. “That’s it,” I grunt. “Let me hear how good I make my wife feel.”
“I should go,” she says quietly. She makes a move to leave, but I slide a hand around her waist. “Go where? You belong in my bed. You’re my wife.”
“Uh-oh.” Galina’s voice is barely above a whisper, but I don’t miss the warning. My head snaps up just in time to catch Nikolai storming toward me, his jaw clenched, his arms rigid at his sides, and his fists curled tightly. “Sorry,” Tatiana whispers with a grimace as she and Galina quickly retreat. So much for girls sticking together. Not that I can blame them. Nikolai looks absolutely lethal.
“You had her wearing a fucking tracking monitor?” Roman growls. I arch a brow. “Besides the point. Right now, it could be helpful.”
