Page 27

T he days I’d spent away from Michaela were harder than I thought they’d be.

I was unfocused and my mind had been filled with her through more than half of every meeting I’d been in. Chen was being an unreasonable prick.

His daughter had tried her best to use her wiles to make me see her father’s point of view. But I wasn’t interested in a partner, and I sure as fuck was not interested in sleeping with his daughter.

I left her in Gansu, so she could figure out where her loyalties lay. With her father. Or with her job at ODI.

She was good at what she did, but she wasn’t irreplaceable. To me, only one woman held that significance, and I finally had her in my arms again.

Only, we had an audience, so instead of bending her over the couch and fucking her until we were both boneless, I had to make nice.

I never understood family the way the Volkov clan, and all its extensions, did. But these women were standing in my living room looking fierce and mutinous, and they were questioning our marriage.

Normally, something like this might amuse me. But I didn’t feel entertained. I was incensed. Not for me. But for her.

For Michaela.

How could they not see how fucking appealing she was? Any man would be lucky if she even looked at them twice, which, considering I was her husband she better not be looking at anyone once. Never mind twice.

I was pretty sure if her attentions diverted elsewhere, it wouldn’t go over very well with this new possessiveness I felt about her.

Where my wife was concerned, I was borderline fucking psycho. What could I say?

So when one of other cousins asked, “Why are you married to our cousin?”

I had only one response.

“Because I can’t imagine a world where I’m not married to this woman.”

A hush fell over the room and four sets of wide eyes with brilliant smiles below them, turned my way.

“Alright, we took up too much of the newlyweds’ time,” the redhead, Clementine, said, rounding the rest of them up and pushing them towards the door amid a flurry of goodbyes and call you laters .

“Oh, Liam?” she turned back to me.

“Yeah?”

“Our family Christmas party is at this farm my dad owns in upstate New York where we keep the horses. Micky knows where. She didn’t RSVP yet because you were out of town. Can I count on you both to attend?”

“When is it?”

“Next Thursday.”

“we’ll be there,” I said, feeling Michaela tense in my arms.

“Good. See you both then.”

The door closed, and I was finally exactly where I wanted to be. Alone. With my wife.

Michaela tapped her finger against my wrist, and I loosened my hold, allowing her to spin around and face me while never actually letting go of her.

“How did everything go?” she asked, concerned.

I liked that she was thinking about me, but I didn’t want to worry her about what was going on without lithium suppliers. We had enough obstacles and misconceptions to clear up without adding the complexity of the Chen’s hold on the mines I’d been trying to secure in the Gansu region, and their latest demands.

“It’ll be fine. Come here,” I growled, sucking in her seductive fragrance with my next breath.

So fresh and sweet. My lilac-scented bride.

I wanted to taste them on my tongue. Wanted to lick her until she writhed beneath me, and I’d wrung out every drop of pleasure as I could from her luscious body.

Michaela was still a mystery to me. The teenage girl I knew when I worked for her father had seemed cool and reserved, an ice queen in the making. But I never let myself think about her past the fact she was Adrik Volkov’s daughter and years too young back then.

But now that I’d married her, that this fine, beautiful, lush creature was mine, I felt a rising panic that I couldn’t make her stay grow inside me.

Like some dark, ugly vine, it was twisted and gnarled. Its roots went so deep they snagged on the jagged pieces of my soul.

I knew I wouldn’t let her go.

Not now. Not ever.

“What is it? Are you okay?” she asked, possibly seeing the desperation darkening my gaze as I stared at her.

“It’s nothing. I just need you, Wife,” I growled, claiming her mouth with mine.

Maybe if I fucked her here and now, it would quench my desire. I didn’t see how. But maybe it could.

Need for her swelled within me like the tide. Like Michaela was my moon. Controlling my movements. Beckoning me here and there with some unseen gravitational force.

Unstoppable.

Unparalleled.

I drank her in, sipping on her lips and swallowing down all her sweet flavors. Lilacs danced beneath the taste of her kiss, they always did, but there was more tonight.

Oh, I’d seen the tin of cookies her cousin brought and imagined that had something to do with the sweetness I found in her kiss. But nah. It was just her.

My sweetheart of a wife was just so damn good. She brought out the beast in me, and it wasn’t long before her clothes decorated the floor as I undressed and stalked her all the way to our room.

Oh, but she wasn’t idle during that time either. My coat had been pushed off my shoulders, my shirt unbuttoned, and my slacks undone.

I’d already kicked my shoes off and was pushing my pants down my hips by the time we reached the bed.

“Lay on the bed and open those legs for me, Sweetheart,” I told her.

Midnight eyes danced with mischief as she crawled backwards to the center of the bed. She remained on her knees, her small hands coasting over her curves, stopping at her tits.

She tugged and squeezed her plentiful mounds, and all the oxygen left my lungs.

“Fuck.”

I stripped the rest of the way, panting, as I joined her on top of the bedspread. I hadn’t even touched her yet and my dick was straining between us, a pearl of precum glistening on the head.

Michaela’s eyes widened, and before I could utter a half-hearted protest she leaned down and took me into her hot mouth.

“Christ, Sweetheart. Can’t wait, can you? Need to have my cock in your mouth?”

She nodded her head, never removing her lips from my dick. I fucking loved how she looked. Her plump lips were stretched around my girth. Naturally pink, I groaned and clutched her hair, loving that she never wore any lipstick.

Up and down she bobbed her tongue, tracing the veins on the underside of my shaft with the flat of her tongue. I watched, mouth open as she reached between her legs, touching herself while she sucked me off.

Sensations built inside me, but I didn’t want to come in her mouth. I pulled her hair, the sound of her moan acting like a stroke of my cock, and didn’t let go until she released me.

“Husband,” she moaned.

So willing.

So submissive.

“I told you to get on the bed and spread your legs, Wife. You didn’t listen,” I growled, dipping my head to suck her nipple before licking my way to her mouth.

I pushed her back with the flat of my palm on her chest.

“A-Are you going to punish me?” she whispered, hissing as I spread her legs farther apart.

“I think you might have earned it, Sweetheart.”

She made a soft sound. Something between a gasp and a breath. Like she was unsure whether to pull away or give in.

But her eyes, those dark, hooded pools of midnight, burned with a fierce intensity, glittering with an unmistakable hunger.

The tension in the air thickened, charged with anticipation. I knew without a doubt that, despite her hesitation, she was craving everything I was about to give her.

Every glorious inch of her was waiting, silently pleading, for me to push her past the edge.

And I intended to do just that.

Muted light from the hallway filtered in through the open door, but the bedroom itself was dark. But not too dark. I could see her just fine.

Her body jiggled as she moved. Every curve was on full display for my eyes only. Every ounce of her right there for my scrutiny. And it was everything I wanted. Everything I craved.

“This is what’s going to happen, Wife. You’re going to lie back and keep your knees open for me. You’re not going to move your hands. If you do, then I’m gonna stop. Understand?”

I waited for Michaela’s nod, watched her place her hands exactly where I told her, then I lowered myself between her pale, thick thighs, marveling at how fucking glorious it felt between all her softness.

The musky scent of her need with the freshness of lilacs just beneath it had me salivating for her.

“Remember, Wife. Don’t move until I tell you,” I growled before shoving my tongue into her tight, hot cunt.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered as I glided my tongue up her slit, flattening it over her bundle of nerves.

She reached for my head, and I stopped, grinning when she whimpered.

“Hands, Wife.”

“Y-Yes, Husband.

I grunted, returning to my feast. Nibbling her sweet flesh, I licked and tasted, swallowed her down until she became part of me. Every inch of this woman belonged to me.

Every drop of her pleasure.

Every moan from her lips.

I refused to think about the ultimatum Chen gave me. Didn’t want to dwell on the fact Maggie had called me seven times over the last four days. And I sure as fuck didn’t want to think about Michaela’s cousins coming over to question her about the reason for our sudden hasty marriage.

No, I just wanted to be right here in this moment, feasting on my Wife’s gorgeous body. I groaned, licking into her cunt, then moving down towards her puckered rosebud while I filled her channel with two fingers. She gasped, panted, and her legs shook.

I gathered moisture between my fingers, pressing my pinky to her tight little asshole. Losing myself in all the mysteries that were my wife, I licked my way to her clit.

“Liam, please. Husband,” she begged.

“Go on, Wife. Let go,” I growled, grinning when I felt her hands go right to my head.

She pushed my face into her sex as I fucked her ass and cunt with my hand, lapping at her clit the whole while.

Knowing I was the one giving her pleasure was better than any high. I feasted on the rush of arousal spilling from her, staking my claim, encouraging my hunger for her, indulging in my need to make her come.

Michaela moaned long and loud. She fell apart in my arms. And I covered her with my body, filling her with my aching cock, knowing she was the only thing that could offer relief.

The pleasure I found in her body was swift and immediate.

Like her body recognized its master.

Like she needed my cock as much as I needed her.

Michaela’s body cradled mine. She held me close, and my shallow thrusts were all we needed to fall over the edge into staggering bliss.

We came together like oceans colliding. A confluence of flesh, of needs and desires, of desperate measures taken to ensure our own survival.

Was it irony, then? The fact that I no longer believed I was capable of being on my own? That I had become so tangled in her that the thought of navigating life without her seemed impossible?

How had I gone from someone who had always prided myself on independence, on standing alone, to someone who couldn’t even imagine a single day without her by my side?

Was it irony that, as much as I had once obsessed over the future of ODI—its success, its growth, its place in the world—I now found myself caring more about the future of us than anything else?

The long-term vision of a company that had once consumed my thoughts now paled in comparison to the delicate, fragile reality of what we were building together day by day as we worked alongside one another, and night by night in this bed of ours.

Perhaps most of all, was it irony that I couldn’t even breathe without her? That with every passing second, I was more acutely aware of her presence, not just beside me, but inside me, like the very air I inhaled.

It wasn’t just need anymore—it was obsession. Insatiable hunger. Michaela was ambrosia to me.

And the idea of being without it— of being without her —was unthinkable.