I pace the corridor, cursing every minute that drags by without news.

The estate feels too quiet, as if everyone is waiting for the same update I crave.

Dimitri has been gone all evening, and my nerves are frayed.

Every time a guard passes, I ask the same question: “Have you heard anything?” I receive the same reply: “Nothing yet.”

My frustration spikes when hours pass with no word, and I don’t even understand why.

It’s not like I care about Dimitri’s safety.

He’s a brute who forced me into a marriage and took advantage of my love for my sister.

Yet, my heart skips a beat every time I imagine him facing my father and his men.

I don’t know whether Dimitri will come back alive or if he’ll return victorious, but either way, the thought of his absence is more troubling than I want it to be.

So, I wander from one room to another, unable to settle.

A kitchen staff member offers tea, but I barely manage a few sips before abandoning the cup.

The storm in my head grows each time I imagine worst-case scenarios.

Father has proven he’s not afraid to push Dimitri into danger.

I wonder if Dimitri’s so determined he’ll ignore caution and walk right into a trap.

Late evening arrives, and the estate remains silent.

I perch on the edge of a sofa with my hands knotted.

Suddenly, voices sound near the entrance.

I spring up and hurry to the foyer, breath catching when I see him enter.

Dimitri stands surrounded by men, all looking bruised and exhausted.

He meets my eyes across the room. Our eyes meet, and for a beat, I’m unable to move.

His suit jacket is missing. His shirt is splattered with dark stains, and sweat mats his hair against his forehead.

He’s upright, though, which means he’s walking under his own power.

The tightness in my chest loosens only to be replaced by a fierce rush of relief.

I push through the bystanders, ignoring curious stares.

He looks at me as I approach, and there’s weariness etched into every line of his face. “I’m fine,” he says before I can demand details. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re covered in blood.”

“Most of it’s not mine.” He lifts a hand as if to reassure me, then winces at a gash on his arm.

I want to yell at him for scaring me. I want to push him away for forcing me into a vow I hate. Yet all I can do is fling my arms around his shoulders, ignoring the wet stains on his shirt. He tenses for a second, then grips me against him.

A swirl of emotions collides within me: relief that he’s alive, anger at the risk he took, and confusion because I shouldn’t feel any sense of comfort in his presence. But I do.

His men murmur something about debriefing, and the group disappears toward his office. He draws back just enough to see my face. “I told you I’d come back.”

“I was going crazy here. Don’t ever do that again.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “I had to protect Redwood Point. It’s secure now.”

I clench his shirt. “I don’t care about that. I just—” Words fail me. I tug him closer and press my forehead to his. His warmth seeps into my bones, and I hate how desperately I need it.

It would be so easy to pretend that my fear was purely selfish; that I was afraid of what my father might do while Dimitri was away.

But there’s no denying that I care about him, too.

As much as I loathe his tactics, there’s no denying his courage or his honor.

He didn’t have to marry me, yet he did. And even after I threw my fury and hurt in his face, he hasn’t given up.

Dimitri’s hand cradles the back of my head as his fingers weave through my hair. He takes a deep breath, and I close my eyes. For a moment, I could believe we’re two people sharing a tender moment, not a mobster and the woman he’s using.

I latch onto that delusion, letting the feeling of his heartbeat drown out all my questions.

I tilt my head, and our lips collide. He tastes of salt and copper, the remnants of a battle I know he’s barely had time to wash away.

My heart thuds so hard that everything else fades.

He brushes a hand against my neck, gripping just firmly enough to keep me there.

His tongue parts my lips, and I moan, giving in.

The world fades away. There’s nothing but his hands on me and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. He kisses me like he can’t stop, as if I’m the only thing anchoring him here. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting him pull me closer against him.

His touch burns through my clothes. Heat floods me, and every rational thought flees. I’m only aware of the sensation of his kiss and the hard angles of his body. I want him closer.

Dimitri’s breath hitches, and he breaks away.

We stare at each other, chests heaving. I feel like someone just lit a match in a gasoline-soaked room. I want more. I need him to keep touching me, to finish what we started. And he must understand because he grabs my hand and leads me upstairs to his bedroom.

When the door closes behind us, he kisses me again. My back hits the wall with such force it rattles the nearby lamp. He pins me there, kissing me like he’s trying to consume every ounce of air from my lungs. It’s desperate and demanding and makes my legs weak.

I pull his shirt free, and my hands roam. Sculpted muscles greet my palms, and I run my fingers over him, committing the feel to memory.

His lips trail down the curve of my throat. His teeth graze the tender skin, and a shock ripples through me. My hands clutch his shoulders, holding on for dear life. He nips at the spot below my ear, and a moan escapes.

Dimitri steps back, panting. His pupils are blown wide, and his jaw is clenched. Then, with a sudden ferocity, he lifts me and strides toward the bed. The room blurs as he tosses me down. He rips at my shirt, popping buttons until the fabric gives way. My bra is next, and the clasp gives.

I feel exposed, pinned beneath his ravenous gaze. I want him. God, how I want him.

Before I can even breathe, his mouth descends onto my pebbled nipple, sucking. Pleasure explodes through me. I arch up, pressing myself against him as his tongue swirls. I gasp his name. His other hand kneads my breast, and his fingers tease the sensitive bud.

My hand moves on its own, sliding down to the front of his pants. I rub him, feeling the shape of his arousal. He growls and bucks, grinding against my palm. The sound is pure lust.

When he releases my nipple with a pop and moves to the other, I feel dizzy.

His fingers work their way lower, slipping into my panties.

He strokes me, and a shudder wracks my body.

My thighs fall open, inviting him to continue.

He doesn’t disappoint. His fingers dip inside me, and the heat is so intense, I can’t hold back the whimper.

He groans and sucks harder. He’s rough, taking everything he wants, and all I can do is lie there and take it. And god, it’s so good.

He unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down, kicking them away. He stands before me, and the sight makes me dizzy. The light from the window catches the lines of his body, every muscle cast in shadow and light. And then he’s on me, his fingers digging into my hips, and his lips devouring mine.

His hand slips between us, and I hear the sound of fabric tearing. In the haze, I’m dimly aware that he’s destroyed my pants. They’re ripped and falling off me, and he’s kissing his way down my stomach. My skin is electrified.

My hips jerk when his lips hit the juncture of my thighs.

He pushes them down, forcing my legs apart.

The first stroke of his tongue against my core is enough to make me cry out.

He growls, low in his chest, and buries his face against me.

His tongue circles my clit, then flicks against it. My hands clench the sheets.

Dimitri lifts his head, and he watches me as he strokes, then presses two fingers inside me.

The stretch is incredible. I gasp, raising my hips, and his fingers push deeper.

His other hand wraps around my thigh, pulling me wide.

His tongue laps at me, circling and teasing, and then his fingers curl.

He knows exactly how to move, and where to press.

My body responds, a wave of heat washing through me.

He sucks my clit, and I feel myself tightening, rising toward the crest of a wave.

Pleasure races through me, and I’m coming.

Dimitri doesn’t stop, driving his tongue against me again and again.

Stars burst across my vision, and a sob bursts from me.

He finally draws back, looking pleased. “That was just the beginning.”

Then his hands are everywhere. He grips my waist and turns me over.

The sheets rub against my sensitive skin, and his weight settles behind me.

A firm hand wraps around my throat, drawing me upright.

His voice is a dark promise against my ear.

“I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fill you so deep, you’ll feel it for days. I’m going to take every part of you.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. His teeth graze my neck, then he releases me, and I’m pushed back down, ass up, legs spread. He grips my hips and enters in one deep thrust.

There’s no gentleness. He slams into me with his hips slapping against mine. My legs tremble, and I moan. He groans, and the sound reverberates through me. His hands clutch my ass, spreading me open, and he drives forward, burying himself.

I’ve never been fucked like this. He uses me, pounding into me again and again. It’s rough, primal. The bed rocks with his rhythm, and I love every second. Pain sparks, mixing with pleasure. The room tilts.

He reaches forward, cupping a breast. His thumb rubs my nipple, and I shudder. Then he pulls back and slams in. His pace quickens, and he fucks me with such force that the bed frame shakes.

The world narrows to a pinpoint. There’s nothing but Dimitri’s body against mine. Every part of me aches for him. I manage to look back and look at him. A lock of hair has fallen across his forehead. His eyes meet mine, and he thrusts deeper.

I break apart, coming harder than I’ve ever felt. Wave after wave crashes over me. He groans, then spills inside me. For a long moment, we stay there, both of us shaking and panting.

He pulls out and rolls onto his side. The room is still spinning, and I’m too spent to move. I’m aware that my legs are splayed, and the rest of me is sprawled in an undignified position. But I can’t bring myself to care.

“Cecily,” Dimitri says, his voice rough.

“Yeah?”

“That was…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the look in his eyes says it all. He’s staring at me as if I’m the most beautiful woman in the world, as if he can’t believe I’m here.

I shift, trying to get my bearings, but his hand lands on my shoulder, pushing me back down. “Stay. Please. Just for a few minutes.”

He doesn’t have to ask. I’m too exhausted to move. My whole body is buzzing, and an odd sense of peace has settled over me. My thoughts are silent. All the rage and resentment I’ve felt have faded into a state of numbness.

I glance over, watching him. He looks exhausted. Sweat still gleams on his chest. His hair is damp, and his expression is softer than usual. He’s gorgeous.

The thought takes me by surprise. I’ve hated him from the moment we met.

And yet, I’ve also seen glimpses of kindness, moments when he’s proven himself honorable and strong.

Now that the adrenaline is fading, those memories rise in my mind, mingling with the ones that are fresher. I’m not sure what to think.

But he still hasn’t made good on his promise to let me see Seraphina.

“Dimitri,” I say, and he rolls his head to look at me. “About my sister.”

He blinks, and a shadow crosses his face. “Right. I’m going to keep my word. You’ll see her soon.”

“How soon? You said it would be today. I understand something came up, and I’m trying to be patient, but—”

“I know.” He sighs. “Tomorrow. I’ll bring you to see her tomorrow.”

A cautious relief trickles through me. Tomorrow. Finally, I’ll see her again. I can’t wait.