Page 17 of Bound Vows (Empire City Syndicate #3)
Andrei
Finding Maya on the penthouse balcony at midnight, silhouetted against Manhattan’s skyline like a warrior princess contemplating her final battle, reminds me that tomorrow, I either gain a wife or bury the woman who’s become my obsession.
“Second thoughts?” I ask while sliding the glass door closed behind me and joining her at the stone railing.
“Third and fourth thoughts.” Maya doesn’t turn to acknowledge my presence, though she squeezes the balcony railing. “I’ve been standing here trying to remember what it felt like to be Maya Mastroni instead of your captive bride-to-be.”
I swallow hard and move to stand beside her. “And what conclusion have you reached?”
“That she’s disappearing piece by piece, and I’m not sure who’s taking her place.
” Maya finally looks at me, and the moonlight reveals something fragile in her eyes that makes something behind my sternum pull tight.
“Tomorrow, I become Mrs. Andrei Volkov, and after that, Maya Mastroni exists only in memory.”
“Perhaps that’s not entirely unfortunate. Maya Mastroni was trapped by family obligations and territorial boundaries.” I lean against the railing and eye her profile. “Mrs. Andrei Volkov could have the freedom to become something unprecedented.”
“Or she could become nothing more than a beautiful accessory to legitimize your empire.” Maya turns toward me. “Which version are you hoping for, Andrei?”
The question deserves an honest answer, though honesty is not my strongest virtue when it comes to admitting feelings that could be used against me. “I’m hoping for a partner who challenges me, surprises me, and occasionally tries to kill me just to keep things interesting.”
Maya covers her mouth as an involuntary giggle slips out. “Well, the murder attempts are practically guaranteed.”
“I’m counting on it.” I reach out and trace the line of her jaw with one finger. “You wouldn’t be nearly as fascinating if you were compliant and grateful.”
She leans into my touch despite herself. “Is that what I am to you?”
“Among other things.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “You’re also infuriating, dangerous, beautiful, and unpredictable. Most people bore me within minutes, but you’ve held my attention for weeks.”
“Your attention and your captivity.”
“The captivity was necessary for practical reasons. The attention was entirely unexpected.” I step closer until we’re sharing the same breath. “Tomorrow’s ceremony legitimizes our political alliance, but tonight is about something else.”
She peers up at me through long lashes and asks, “What’s tonight about?”
“Tonight is about the woman who comforted me when I revealed weakness, who gathered intelligence while maintaining plausible deniability, and who kissed me like she meant it despite every reason to hate me.” I frame her face with both hands.
“Tonight is about Maya, not the bride or the political symbol or the Mastroni princess. Just Maya.”
She searches my face for deception or manipulation, and I let her look because I’m telling the truth. Tomorrow brings obligations and ceremonies and the complicated reality of our new partnership. Tonight belongs to whatever this thing between us has become.
“I’m scared,” Maya whispers in admission. “Not of you, but of how easy it’s becoming to forget why I should resist this.”
“Then don’t resist tonight.” I lean down until my forehead touches hers, bumping my nose against hers. “Tomorrow, we play our roles for two hundred witnesses, but tonight, we can be honest about what we want.”
“And what do you want, Andrei?”
“You. All of you, willing and eager and present.” I slide my hands down to her waist. “Without all the reluctance, but with genuine desire for what we create together.”
Maya’s breath catches as I pull her closer, and when she looks up at me. Her green eyes are full of lust, drawing me in like a magnet.
When I kiss her, it’s with all the hunger I’ve restrained since our first encounter in the gym. Maya winds her arms around my neck and presses herself against me with desperate need as the kiss becomes a frenzy of dancing tongues.
Maya breaks the kiss long enough to glance around the balcony. “Someone could see us.”
“Let them watch.” I spin her around and press her back against the stone railing. “Tomorrow, you become my wife in front of everyone who matters. Tonight, I want to claim you under the stars where only we exist.”
Maya’s pupils dilate as she draws her swollen bottom lip between her teeth. When she nods, it’s with the decisiveness of someone choosing her fate rather than accepting what’s been chosen for her.
“Then take me.” She reaches for the buttons of my shirt. “But this time, I’m taking what I want, too.”
Her fingers make quick work of my shirt while I slide my hands under the silk of her nightgown, coasting along the curves and valleys of her body. When she pushes the fabric off my shoulders, I lift her onto the wide railing and step between her thighs.
“Careful, Piccola,” I warn before I kiss along the column of her throat. “If you fall, I’ll have to explain to your brother why his sister ravaged herself off the edge the night before her wedding.”
“Then you’d better hold on tight,” Maya threads her fingers through my hair and tugs my head back until we’re eye to eye, “because I plan to take you with me if I go over.”
The promise in her voice makes my cock harden painfully against my zipper. I capture her mouth in another bruising kiss while my hands work to gather her nightgown around her waist. When I discover she’s wearing nothing underneath, I groan against her lips.
“Were you planning this?” I stroke the wetness between her thighs.
“I planned to seduce you into revealing state secrets.” Maya gasps as I find her clit and circle it with varying pressure. “But this is an acceptable alternative.”
“State secrets are overrated.” I slide two fingers inside her and watch her face as her mouth drops open in a soundless scream. “Though I’d be happy to tell you anything you want to know if you keep looking at me like that.”
Maya rocks against my hand as her breathing becomes more labored. “I want to know if you plan to make me come on this balcony where half of Manhattan can see.”
“That depends on how loud you plan to be.” I add a third finger and increase the rhythm while my thumb works her clit. “Can you stay quiet while I fuck you with my hand, or will you scream loudly enough to wake the neighbors?”
“Why don’t you find out?” Maya’s challenge is breathless as she approaches the edge.
I continue the devastating rhythm until she comes undone around my fingers, her inner muscles clenching as she throws her head back and bites her lip to muffle her cries. I nearly lose myself at the sight of Maya lost in pleasure, but I breathe as I convince myself to wait until she recovers.
“Beautiful.” I withdraw my fingers and bring them to my mouth to taste her arousal. “But we’re far from finished.”
Maya’s eyes go dark as she watches me savor her essence. “Then finish what you started.”
She reaches for my belt buckle with steady hands despite the tremors still wracking her body. When she frees my cock from my pants, I grip the railing to maintain control as she strokes me with torturous slowness.
Maya slides off the railing to kneel before me, and the sight of her on her knees wearing nothing but moonlight nearly stops my heart. When she takes me into her mouth, her wet heat and skilled tongue drive coherent thought from my mind.
“Maya,” I groan while fighting the urge to thrust deeper.
She pulls back just enough to speak. “I want to taste you when you come apart.”
Before I can respond, she takes me deeper than before, using her hands to cup and massage in ways that make me dizzy. The combination of her mouth and hands pushes me toward the edge faster than I’d like.
“Stop,” I command as I pull away from her perfect mouth. “Not yet.”
Maya rises and positions herself against the railing again with her back to me, and she bends over. “Then fuck me properly before we both lose our minds.”
I position myself behind her and slide home in one smooth stroke, burying myself to the hilt in her tight heat. Maya cries out and arches against me, taking me even deeper.
“God, you feel incredible,” I breathe, setting a steady rhythm.
“Harder,” Maya demands as she pushes back to meet each thrust. “I want to feel this tomorrow during the ceremony.”
The image of Maya walking down the aisle with the phantom sensation of my possession between her thighs drives me to increase the pace and force of my thrusts. She meets each one with enthusiasm, her moans growing louder despite the risk of discovery.
“Touch yourself,” I command while reaching around to palm her breasts. “I want to feel you come around me.”
Maya slides a hand between her thighs to stroke her clit while I continue driving into her from behind. The added stimulation makes her inner muscles clench around me, threatening my remaining control.
“Close,” she gasps as her movements become more erratic. “So close.”
“Then let go, Piccola. Come for me under the stars.”
Maya shatters with a cry that echoes off the surrounding buildings, and her body convulses as pleasure tears through her. The sensation of her orgasm triggers my own, and I bury myself deep as my release barrels through my body.
We remain joined for several minutes while our breathing slows. When I finally withdraw from her, Maya turns in my arms and rests her head against my chest.
“Tomorrow formalizes what already exists between us.” I stroke her dark hair while Manhattan lies sprawled below us like a conquered kingdom. “But some things remain constant regardless of ceremonies or witnesses.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the fact that you’ll never be just a possession to me, Maya. Whatever else our marriage becomes, you’ll always be the woman who looked at my scars and saw survival instead of weakness.” I tilt her chin up until she meets my gaze. “That matters.”
Maya studies my face for a moment before nodding slowly. “And you’ll always be the man who saw me as more than just Max Mastroni’s little sister.”
“Much more.” I pull her closer. “Though I reserve the right to remind your brother of that fact if he becomes too troublesome.”
“Just try not to kill him during the reception. It would really put a damper on the festivities.”
“I make no promises about the reception,” I reply while leading her back toward the penthouse. “But I guarantee the honeymoon will be memorable.”
As we return inside, I catch Maya’s reflection in the glass door and note how she carries herself differently—still wary, but no longer quite so guarded.
Tomorrow, she becomes my wife in front of everyone who matters in our world.