Page 18

Dmitri

“Why would a man want to have three wives?” I hand Amelia a cup of hot tea as I take my seat beside her on the couch in the media room.

It’s been years since I’ve spent any time in here watching anything, much less a reality television show.

For the last four nights, I’ve found her here watching these people live out their lives for all the world to see. I tell her not to wait up for me on the nights I have to be at the club, but each night I find her in here.

It helps her relax, she’s told me.

And since I’ve been able to move her focus from her brother’s possible embezzling to the summer carnival the center puts on every summer, she needs time to relax at night. The woman works too hard.

“Four. He has four. Well, he did. He’s down to two, or is it one?” She takes a sip of her tea then sets it on the table next to her.

“He’s losing wives?” I place my beer on the coffee table.

“Yes, it’s a whole thing. He has a favorite wife, and you’re not supposed to do that, so that one,” she points to the screen as a blonde woman sitting in a chair comes on for her interview, “left him, then another one is on her way out, and then there’s the first wife who he hasn’t loved in a long time, but he wouldn’t tell her. He just kept dragging her along, but I think she’s getting it now.”

I watch her expression soften as she explains how this man has managed to mess up three of his four relationships.

“But still, why would he want four to begin with?” I lean back, draping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to me.

The allure of finding her half-asleep waiting up for me each night has been the reason I’ve made it home from the club within half the usual time.

Having members of the police force on the payroll has its perks. Like not being pulled over after running a red light doing twenty over the speed limit.

“It’s a religion,” she finally says and tucks her legs beneath her as she leans into my chest. “That’s why he keeps stringing along the first wife, at least that’s what he says. He says the man can’t leave.”

“Hmm. But she can leave him? Then why not tell her he doesn’t want her anymore? She’d leave him then, right?”

She pushes up and looks at me with a grin. “Exactly!”

I chuckle and kiss her forehead.

“What was that for?” She pulls back, her smile slipping a little.

“I wanted to.” I shrug and hug her to me, putting her back on my chest.

“If he doesn’t want her, he should tell her,” I say with all seriousness. “He sounds like a coward.”

“He is,” she agrees as the show comes back on from the commercial. “So, you think divorce is all right, then?”

Her question comes out softer, like she’s prodding a sore area.

“For them, sure.” I tighten my hold on her.

“So, if a man doesn’t love his wife, he should tell her so she can leave.” She stiffens. “I mean, in a relationship like that, where love is a factor. Not like our marriage, I mean a real marriage.”

It’s my turn to go rigid.

“How is our marriage not real?”

“Well, it’s not. I mean it’s legal and we… you know… do what married people do… but it’s not like them.” She gestures to the screen where the man sits with the only wife who can still tolerate him.

She’s talking about love.

Before I can respond, a new thought grabs her attention and she changes the subject completely.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I talked to your mother tonight.” She reaches over to the remote and pauses the streaming.

“You did? How did you talk to her?” I say a small prayer that my mother didn’t put any horrible thoughts in Amelia’s head.

Like the option of living in separate countries.

“She called me.” Amelia laughs. “She said you wouldn’t give her my number, so she had to dig around herself for it. She’s nice. Why wouldn’t you give her my number?”

“I wanted to give you more time before dealing with her. My mother can be a little controlling.” I’d prefer we go back to talking about the show than my mother, but Amelia is so relaxed I won’t do anything to ruin it.

“So that’s where you get it from?” She laughs again; the casual sound of it brightens the room. To hear her relaxed and having some fun—even at my expense—eases the soreness from my soul.

“Maybe.” I squeeze her again. “Did she say if she’s planning a trip here?”

“No. She said she hates New York and won’t step foot here ever again.” Amelia twists so she can look at me better. “What happened?”

“Nothing. She just prefers Russia. My father made us move here when I was young. When he passed away, she packed up and moved back.”

Other than the ruthlessness of my family’s business, there’s little drama on my side of our family. It’s Amelia’s family that has brought all the excitement.

“Hmmm, but she mentioned your brother. She said he should come here, that he’d do well to learn from you on how to catch a wife.” She makes a face. “But you didn’t really catch me, you inherited me. Does she know that? I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t tell her.”

“She knows your brother and I had business together.” I will have to thank my mother for keeping old secrets safe.

At some point, Amelia will need to know, but not yet. Not while she’s still sorting out the death of her brother.

“Anyway, it was a short conversation. And not as scary as I thought it would be. Though I’ll admit she made your brother sound a little scary.”

“Kost? He can be, yes. Especially if he’s put you in his sights. But you’re safe from him.” I kiss her forehead again.

“And from you?” She twists her body until she manages to straddle my thighs. “Am I safe from you?”

I grab hold of her hips, pulling her firmly down on me so she can feel the hardness she’s created.

“No, Amelia. I don’t think that will ever be the case.” I pinch her hip. “How is the carnival planning?”

She sits back on my legs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“It’s going. We’re going to use the same company as last year, so that’s a big item off my list.” She pauses a moment. “The accountant called today.”

“About what?”

“He said that you replaced the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and he would be making the adjustments to the chart accounts.”

I’d told him not to bother her with it, but apparently, he doesn’t listen any more than my wife does when I give an order.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She scoots herself closer to me on my lap. “I handle the foundation and the center; you handle everything else.”

“I’m not getting involved in the running of the center. I paid the money back to get the accountant off your mind. It’s resolved as far as legalities go.”

“So, you do think Lucas did it?”

“I don’t know, but this puts the issue on the backburner. Now you can focus on the carnival and the day-to-day issues.”

“So, you won’t interfere anymore?”

“Unless I need to, no.”

“That’s not exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Well, it’s the best you’re getting.” I pat her ass.

Fuck, just touching her playfully like this makes me want to throw her over the arm of the couch and fuck her until we’re both gasping for air.

“I’m tired, so I won’t argue, but I reserve the option of getting mad about it later.” She unbuttons the top button of my shirt. “You came home early tonight. Why?”

“I wanted to spend time with you.” I slide my fingers beneath the hem of her t-shirt to where I can feel the warmth of her skin.

“You wanted to spend time with me?” Her eyes widen.

“Yes. You’re my wife and between your work and my work, we barely see each other.”

Her bottom lip sinks between her teeth.

“We talked last night,” she points out with a coy grin.

“Yes, we did. We had a whole conversation while I dragged you up to bed after you fell asleep on the couch. And in that conversation, what did I say?”

Her cheeks blush again, and I’m going to be a fallen man if she keeps this up.

How can I even pretend to be the ruthless violent man I’ve been up until the moment this woman barged into my life, when just a pretty little blush makes my knees weak with need for her?

“You said that I needed to get more sleep. Which I did. I slept in this morning.”

Squeezing her hips, I shake my head. “You were up at six this morning and out the door by six forty-five. You skipped breakfast and had a coffee instead.”

“Are you spying on me?” She tries to pull an angry expression, but I easily slide my hand down between her spread thighs and press against her sex.

“How can I keep you safe if I don’t know what’s going on?” I rub my hand over her pussy, already feeling the heat and wetness through the material of her pajama shorts.

Her fingers curl into my shoulders as I push the shorts to the side to get to her wetness.

“You could just ask me,” she says, arching her hips toward my touch as I glide through her folds, seeking out her opening.

“I could.” I push two fingers upward, into her tight sheath. “But what would Boris do with his day if he didn’t have you to watch over?”

“So, it’s for Boris’ benefit you have him stalk me all day long?” She sinks down over my fingers, her pussy clenching me.

“Yes. Think of poor Boris.” With my free hand, I pull the neckline of her t-shirt down until her breast is exposed.

The dark dusty rose of her nipple peaks with the air brushing across it.

“Poor Boris?” She laughs.

“Shhh. I don’t want to talk about Boris anymore.” I lean toward her, flicking my tongue over the pert nipple and basking in the sweetness of her sigh.

“Me either.” She reaches between our bodies, seeking out my cock. I adjust my position so she can unzip my pants.

When the warm, smooth touch of her hand wraps around my cock, I moan. It’s a heavenly touch a devil like me should never experience.

“Fuck, Amelia.” I scrape my teeth across her nipple then take it between them, biting down enough to make her squirm.

Her pussy tightens around my fingers, sucking me further inside as she rides my hand.

“Dmitri,” she yelps when I release her nipple and swipe my tongue across it, licking away the burn I’ve given her.

“Yes? Does my wife want something?” I curl my fingers, thrusting a little harder into her pussy.

“Please.”

“You have to ask, you know that.” I push a third finger inside of her and she sucks in a breath.

“Fine.” She drops her chin down and lines up our gazes. “Fuck me, Dmitri.”

I chuckle. “You didn’t say please. A young lady should always use her manners,” I tease.

“Such an old man,” she bites back with a grin. “Please, Dmitri. Please fuck me.”

I pull my fingers free of her pussy and bring them to her lips.

“Clean my fingers,” I order, my voice firming. Obediently, she drops her jaw and pushes her tongue out for me. “Such a good girl tonight.”

She smiles around my fingers as she closes her lips, licking off her own arousal.

“Where are you going?” I grab her hips and keep her planted on my lap when she tries to climb off.

She looks behind me to the door we left open.

“Someone might walk past.”

“No one will bother us.”

“But they’ll see.”

“They know better than to interrupt me.” I push her shorts to the side and fist my cock, lining up the head with her pussy.

“Dmitri—”

My cock impaling her as I shove her hips down onto me stops her complaint.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Exactly.” I push up at her. “Ride me, Amelia. Ride me hard.” I slap her ass to get her going.

“It’s tighter like this,” she breathes while moving her feet to the couch cushions and pushing herself up.

I tighten my hold to keep her from letting my cock slip from her warmth.

“Yes.” I grit my teeth. “Hard, baby, fuck me hard.” I yank her down on me again.

“Oh, god.” She plants her hands on my shoulders and rides me.

Urgency crosses her features as she bounces up and down on my cock.

I lean into her again, sucking on her breast while slipping a hand between our bodies and flicking her clit as she rides me hard.

“Such a good girl,” I mutter against her breast, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her.

It’s nothing in particular, not her body soap or her perfume. It’s just her. Everything about this woman makes me drunk.

“Oh, oh, Dmitri.” She screams my name as I thrust up into her, filling her with my cock as her pussy pulsates around me.

Her orgasm rips through her, silencing her cries of pleasure with quiet gasps for air while I continue to piston my hips, fucking her while she’s riding the waves of her release.

“Amelia. Oh, fuck, good girl, good girl!” I roar, thrusting upward once more and filling her with my cum.

Sparks fly somewhere in the background, or maybe it’s just my vision.

This woman does things to me no other women have ever been able to do.

“Shit,” Amelia whispers as she clings to me.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No.” She lays her cheek on my shoulder. “I just realized what the date is. We should have used something.”

“What do you mean something?”

“A condom. I haven’t had a chance to pick up my birth control.”

I press a kiss to her cheek. Like I would ever allow anything to come between my cock and her body.

“Dmitri?” She leans back as my cock slips out of her, my seed already spilling from her body as I place the material of her pajama shorts back in place. “You’d do that, right? You’d wear a condom?”

“No.” I move her to sit beside me on the couch so I can tuck my cock back into my slacks.

It’s sticky with her arousal still clinging to it, but I don’t mind.

“Why not?” she asks as I reach for the remote to the television.

“You know why not.” I pull the neckline of her shirt back up, fingering a spot that’s overstretched. “I tore it.”

“You’re not as complicated as I thought. You’re very simple.”

I lean back on the couch, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her back to my chest. Nothing compares to this feeling right here. My freshly fucked wife, snuggling with me on my couch.

Perfection has been achieved.

“I am. Marry. Have Children. Enjoy life. Simple.” I kiss her forehead again. “Let’s finish watching this stupid man ruin his life, then I’m taking you to bed.”

“I’m not that tired,” she argues.

“I didn’t say we were going to sleep.” I press the play button on the remote and rest my chin on her head.

Yes. Perfection.