Page 13

Apparently, I was wrong about him, and it would appear that Ravyn just might be right after all. Maybe the Tarasov brothers weren't all that bad, as opposed to popular opinion.

I hadn't wrapped my head around it yet, the idea that I could be the business owner that I'd always wanted and still be Erik's wife. The possibility of this seemed a little too good to be true.

Was he messing with me? He did say that he wasn't kidding around, and the sincerity in his tone was palpable. In his eyes was a glint of amusement at my assumption, but beneath that was also a glimmer of honesty and solemnity. He was telling the truth.

It had been a few days since our first decent conversation in the kitchen that night. However, I was still in awe of the whole revelation. I hadn't been able to contain my happiness and my excitement. It was so obvious that even the mansion staff had noticed it and were puzzled by my sudden change in attitude.

When they believed I wasn’t watching, they would exchange furtive glances at me, their lips curving into broad smiles.

Ever since Erik's assurance that I was allowed to go ahead with my plans to own a fashion business, I'd slipped out of my shell. It was an unconscious act, but it happened. I finally found a reason to be myself and less moody all the time.

I'd spend hours every day doing more research on the business, studying and understanding the market. My dream—my plan—was more feasible now, considering there was nothing holding me back.

When I wasn't researching or analyzing, I was sketching out new designs—a talent most people didn't know I had. My determination to make it big in the industry had multiplied since my last conversation with my husband.

Speaking of, I hadn't had another decent talk with him yet. He'd been super busy these past few days. Most times, he'd return home way after midnight, and I'd be fast asleep by then. The next morning, he'd be gone before I'd wake up.

He was like a ghost nowadays, and although a part of me was grateful for the amount of time on my hands—to delve into my research—the other part of me seemed to miss his presence.

Strange.

The tension between us whenever he was around me was always suffocating. His presence alone was intimidating, accompanied by a kind of fear that left a pit in my stomach every single time. So, why would I miss having him around?

What was it about him that always drew me in like a moth to a flame? Was it about this man that ignited a sexual fire within me?

Erik believed I was tempting him and wasn't sure how long he'd resist me for. What he didn't know, however, was that the feeling was mutual.

I tried to suppress it, but the harder I tried, the more drawn I was to him. As the days went by, my craving and longing for him intensified. The only thing that kept me distracted from the illicit thoughts in my head was the research that stole my time and attention.

But the same question lingered on the fringes of my mind every night I went to bed: How long would I keep this up?

It was no secret to me now that every fiber of my being wanted this man. The mere thought of having him deep inside me always turned me on, leaving me almost sexually frustrated.

The turmoil within me was real. I was attracted to Erik Tarasov to the point where I’d had wet dreams these past few nights. But was I ready? I hadn't been with a man before. Did I want him to be my first?

That was a silly question!

The fact that we were married meant that he had the right to be my first. In fact, I should consider myself lucky that the man was patient enough to tolerate the negligence of my wifely duties. My husband could decide at any time to take me—to claim what was his, with or without my consent. He could do that, and there would be absolutely nothing that anyone would do about it.

Rather, he chose to respect my decision and grant me all the time in the world to prepare myself.

It was obvious that he craved me as much as I craved him. And denying us both the pleasure that we so desperately wanted was nothing but torture. I was only delaying the inevitable. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

I was in the shower tonight, and as the water danced across my skin, I shut my eyes in rapture, biting my lower. Thoughts of Erik and I being intimate had started a fire within me, and it was threatening to consume me.

My hands moved slowly, trailing soap across my skin and curves as the shower's misty veil swirled around me. The feeling of my palms, slippery against my skin, sent a spark of electricity surging through me. Heat waves spread across my body, leaving me at the mercy of this intense passion that had me hooked.

The warm water washed over my body as I fantasized about Erik's touch, his hands on me, his skin against mine, and his tongue in my mouth. The feeling was electric, and I didn't realize that I was already starting to play with myself.

My fingers grasped the gentle swell of breasts, tuning nipples, the soap's slippery feel sending shivers down my spine. I fondled them, my hands slowly caressing my skin, my curves.

In my head, I imagined his strong arms taking control of my body and doing to me whatever he wanted. With my fingers sliding up and down my entrance while my free hand pinched my hard nipple, a soft purr escaped my lips.

My muscles relaxed, and I wouldn't stop biting my lower lip.

What was he doing to me? Why did I crave him so badly? And why couldn't I stop touching myself?

I'd never wanted a man the way that I wanted Erik Tarasov, and that scared the shit out of me. How could something so poisonous feel so good?

I let out a sharp exhale and managed to get a grip on myself. My palms cupped my face, the warm water cascading down my body as I struggled to snap out of this tangled web of sexual fantasy.

When I finally did, I quickly freshened up, turned the shower off once done, and then stepped out to dry my body. I distracted my mind with ways to better understand the business market and strategies to help me start off on a good foot.

I slipped into my nightgown, wore my signature perfume, and headed out of the bathroom. As I shut the door behind me, I froze in my tracks, my eyes settling on the man lying on the bed.

I glanced at the wall clock; it was barely 10:30 P.M. My husband was home early today. That was a first.

A faint grin flashed on my lips.

He was asleep, though, clearly exhausted from the day's work, but even in his slumber, the man was so fucking hot. He must have come in while I was masturbating in the bathroom, hence the reason I hadn’t noticed his arrival.

Well, that was debatable, considering the fact that the man was like a bloody ninja; one would only hear or detect his moves if he wanted them to.

But that was beside the point.

The major problem right now was that I couldn't tear my gaze off him. The longer my eyes hovered over his body, the hotter I felt.

He lay on his back, stripped from the waist upward—shirtless—with his eyes closed.

I drew closer and halted by the king-sized bed, my gaze glued to his broad torso. Usually, I only slept on the bed when he wasn't home, and I often had no idea where he lay whenever he returned because he was always gone by morning.

My eyes darted toward the couch I’d slept on the night of our wedding. Should I sleep there tonight, or should I just join my husband in bed?

I’d gotten aches all over my body the last few times I lay on that couch. It wouldn't be a good idea to hurt myself like that again.

Besides, what would happen if I joined Erik in bed? He was asleep already.

Carefully, so I wouldn't wake him up, I slipped into my side of the bed and lay under the sheets, facing the ceiling. This close proximity made my heart pound in my chest, and my head was in chaos, swirling with multiple thoughts.

The room was silent, cool, and peaceful, but unfortunately, my mind was not. I released a soft sigh and rolled to the side, my eyes fixed on his face.

A flutter stirred in my chest as I drank in his features. His sharp jawline and strong nose were testaments to his unyielding nature. However, in spite of this, the delicate fans of his lashes softened his rugged edges, a stark contrast to someone as ruthless as he was.

His face was a masterful blend of rugged masculinity and subtle beauty—a complexity that effortlessly drew me in, like steel to a magnet.

My eyes drifted downward, tracing the contours of his bare chest, his chiseled abs rippling beneath his skin like a promise of power. My heart raced as I lifted my hand, daring to feel his skin under my palm. I drew so close to him, unable to stop myself or withdraw.

It was as though his body was calling out to me, as though I was hypnotized by his masculinity. Before I knew it, I was only inches from him, my face hovering over his with a soft, weak expression. My blood was boiling with desire, the heat of passion spreading through my body.

I tried to stop myself, to restrain myself from touching him, but I couldn't. My hands trembled, my heart pounding like a drum as I dared to gently set my palm on his broad torso. His skin was a canvas of rugged experience etched with scars and cut marks that seemed to tell the stories of the battles he'd faced and overcome.

My manicured fingers slowly, with cautious moves, traced the defined ridges of his abs. I took in the sight of his scars, noting some as bullet wounds and the others as knife cuts.

Each of those scars appeared to have cut deep into his flesh. Although they were healed—mere reminders of a life lived on the edge—I could only imagine the pain he had to endure for each one.

Slowly, my palm traversed his body, my eyes taking notes of the slightest details of his skin. I knew that I was being creepy, caressing a man in his sleep without his consent. But I couldn't help it.

How could someone so cruel look so harmless and gorgeous at the same time?

My gaze drifted down to his groin, and my eyes widened slightly at the sight of his erection. I watched his cock swell in his pants, and then it hit me—the realization that he might be aware of my actions.

That instant, my gaze flew back to his face, and my breath lodged in my throat as I pulled away from him. I'd met his eyes, and he was wearing a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

It turned out that he'd been awake this entire time, and while I was busy being such a perv, he was watching me. The grin on his face was a clear indication that he enjoyed the feeling of my hand all over his body. But that didn't make it any less embarrassing, especially because I'd been the one avoiding intimacy with him.

“Why'd you stop?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…” I stuttered, avoiding his eyes.

As I tried to back away, he grasped my hand, and in an instant, I found myself underneath him, his face mere inches from mine. His breath was warm against my skin, his green eyes piercing into my own. Erik's powerful arms held me down, restraining my hands. His grip was gentle yet firm enough to keep me secured.

I loved it, the inability to use my hands, the feeling of surrendering to his mercy. My chest rose and fell from all that tension coursing through me. The intensity of the passion flickering in Erik's gaze sent tremors down my core and a tingling sensation between my legs.

His lips, soft and succulent, grazed against mine, the slight touch awakening my desire, the flame burning with an intensity I couldn't comprehend.

“You know I can only hold back so long if you keep doing this,” he said, his husky whisper sending shivers down my spine.

I stared into his eyes, my chest heaving slowly as I struggled to fight against this sweet temptation. But why torture us both? He wanted me, and I wanted him. Plus, he was my husband, and he'd been patient enough already.

Screw this. We were doing it tonight.

“Then don't,” I said without breaking eye contact, my voice a low, sexy whisper. “Don't hold back anymore.”

His eyes narrowed as if studying me or, better yet, drinking in the expression of my arousal. He leaned closer, his lips on mine, grazing and teasing me. He freed up one of my hands, his thumb flying to trace the curve of my mouth.

I lay beneath him, feeling his erection against my thigh, my body trembling from his touch, possessive yet tender. He gently pushed his thumb into my mouth, and I sucked on it, still holding his gaze.

The feeling was erotic, sending sparks of electricity through me and leaving me breathless. My back arched slightly as his fingers left my face and traveled down my bosom. This tension, this anticipation that seemed to be building by the second, was so overwhelming that it had me surrendering completely.

My hands settled on his body, caressing their way to the back of his head to press him close enough to claim those lips.

While he squeezed my voluptuous curves, his lips devoured mine with a slow, sensual fervency that eased my tension and anxiety. He slid his tongue into my mouth, our heads tilting together in harmony, driven by our longing for each other.

He kissed me with so much passion, and I could literally feel the connection between us growing stronger. His hand—his palm—was relentless on my breast while the other still had mine pinned down above my head. He squeezed, he fondled, and he pinched my nipples over the fabric of my nightgown.

Erik broke the kiss and gazed upon my face before me on the neck, then down to my chest, where his fingers delicately tugged down a strap of dress, one at a time. My chest heaved all the process, my heart hammering in anticipation. This would be the first time someone was seeing my breasts, and that made me so nervous.

Would he like them? Would he be disappointed?

Erik was a man twice my age, meaning that he must have had a lot of women in his lifetime—giving him a high body count and a lot of experience. Would my body suffice, considering the women he'd had sex with over the years?

As the fabric unveiled the breasts underneath, his lips curled into a smile that eased my anxiety.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his eyes drinking in the sight of my moderately sized breasts.

That was refreshing.

I mirrored his gesture and let out a soft purr the moment his lips and his tongue claimed my hard nipple. “Fuck…” I murmured, a shiver coursing through me.

While sucking one breast, he was simultaneously fondling the other. The feeling was like none I'd ever felt before. The chill of his tongue and the sensation of his fingers deliciously pinching my nipples fueled my desire.

He was taking his time with me, his hands traversing my body, tracing my curves, and switching between kissing my lips, my neck, and my breasts. It felt so good, and all I could do was moan.

Clearly, he still remembered that I was a virgin, and maybe he wanted to make my first time memorable. Whatever the case, I loved what he was doing to my body; I loved how much attention he paid to every detail.

His tongue licked my skin, traveling up the nape of my neck and then reclaiming my lips. He was a good kisser with fresh, warm breath that had me burning with desire.

Erik unlocked his lips from mine and looked into my eyes. “Ever been gone down on before?” he asked, his breath fanning against my skin.

My heart skipped at his question, racing with anticipation as I subtly trembled beneath him. The thought of his mouth on my pussy fueled my desire and anxiety, leaving me breathless. My voice seemed to be lost in ecstasy, so I shook my head in response to his question.

A faint grin played on his lips as he kissed my skin—my forehead, my nose, my lips, then down my neck. My body quivered, my anticipation building as his kisses moved past my chest down to my belly button.

His hands caressed my hips over the fabric of my nightgown before sliding under, his skin smooth against my trembling thighs. He jerked his head up and met my eyes, my chest rising and falling with expectation.

I was consumed with longing, my pulse pounding with need as I hung on the edge, waiting.

A smirk twitched on the corners of his lips as he lowered his head between my legs. I steeled myself, my body stiffening, eyes fixed downward where I watched him draw in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my arousal.

I was so wet down there and was a little embarrassed as I felt his fingertips delicately shift my panties to the side. He stole one last glance up at my face before going down on me.

“Oh, my God!” The expression fell off my mouth, unintended.

My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes widened at the erotic feeling that jolted through my body. His tongue licked my entrance and sucked on my clit while his arms held on to my shaking thighs, keeping me in place.

“You taste so good,” he murmured and returned to work on my pussy.

The air was filled with my soft moans—a low, husky hum that seemed to vibrate through every cell in my body. My fingers clenched into fists, grasping the sheets and tugging on them as if anchoring myself to reality.

He was good with his tongue, eating me up like a hungry beast, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I arched my back, feeling the unbearable sensation overwhelming every cell and molecule in my body. I trembled like a leaf, my hip bucking upward in a silent plea for more.

The scent of my arousal wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of my perfume.

I didn't realize how much I'd pulled away from the original spot on the bed until he yanked me back in place with his strong arms.

My hands flew into his hair, pressing his head deeper between my legs. The sensation was killing me, but I didn't want him to stop. I loved it—I loved the way he licked me up so good.

By the time he'd eaten to his satisfaction— both our satisfaction—he raised his head, his mouth covered in my juice. It was so hot that I wanted to taste it, to lick it off his lips.

I reached down and helped him back up before claiming his mouth. I kissed him with so much fervency, tasting the remnants of my juice on his mouth.

Tongues danced, moving to the rhythm of the passion fueling our desire.

My hands traveled across his body, his canvas of scars brushing against my palms. We exchanged heavy, warm breaths, our eyes shut, basking in the euphoria that washed over us like a flood.

Without breaking our kiss, his hand descended to my pussy, and a finger gently slid up and down my entrance. I moaned into his mouth, my hardened nipples tingling.

He was just as great with his fingers as he was with his tongue. At this point, my mind was overwhelmed with ecstasy, and I knew instantly that I was ready.

I broke the kiss and looked right into his piercing green eyes, my voice soft but laced with desperation. “Take me,” I pleaded, urgency creeping into my tone.

If I wasn't so turned on, I'd never say those words. I'd die of shame and embarrassment. But at this moment, I didn't care—I didn't give two shits. I just wanted to feel him buried deep inside me.

My hands traveled down to his waist where I unbuttoned his pants with a kind of speed and precision that shocked me. But now wasn't the time to be amused over redundant things. My fingers grasped his zipper and pulled it down, exposing the boxers underneath.

He claimed my lips again, this time devouring them with an intense fervency that left us both breathless. I grabbed his waistband and yanked it down then withdrew his shaft from underneath his boxers.

My eyes widened at the feeling of the cock in my hand. It was heavy and long, and my heart skipped at the thought of it going in through my tight cunt.

But it didn't matter. I wanted him, and I wanted him so badly. As the kiss intensified, I positioned his cock outside my entrance, rubbing the cap over my wetness.

His hand slid down, taking control of his shaft while mine flew up to my head, smoothing my hair back. He broke the kiss and stared into my eyes. “I'll be gentle. Don't worry,” he whispered with an encouraging smile.

His words were reassuring, and that made me relax a bit, surrendering myself to him. However, it didn't stop the anticipation that stole my breath and caused my heart to race like a galloping horse.

My chest was rising and falling as I steeled myself, closing my eyes tightly, awaiting his thrust.

A soft, painful gasp escaped my lips at the feeling of his cock slowly pushing through my cunt. My wetness, mixed with the remnants of his drool, served as a makeshift lube that eased his gentle penetration. Still, the pain, with a hint of pleasure, coursed through me like lightning.

My hand covered my mouth, eyes widening in agony. I could feel my pussy tearing, my hymen breaking. I clenched my jaw, tightening my closed eyes as I embraced the pain, knowing what would come next was pleasure—a compensation I anticipated.

Again, I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as he filled me, stretched me, and completed me. “Is it all in?” I whispered under my breath.

I felt my muscles constrict as he withdrew, slowly pulling out of me, this time a little easier. His tip still lingered on my entrance when he leaned forward and reclaimed my lips, sealing my moans with a deep kiss that seemed to take my pain away.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed back inside me, my pussy stretching to swallow him whole. He repeated the process over and over until it was more pleasure, less pain.

He buried himself deep inside me, our bodies colliding in the heat of passion. The deeper he drove into me, the more connected to him I felt. I moaned into his mouth, my hands running over my body while he fondled my gentle swells.

Erik's thrusts were deep, slow and sensual and I loved the way he handled me like a delicate pearl. I spread my legs apart, and he raised one in the air, a gesture that eased his penetration.

He paused, broke the kiss, and gazed into my soul, his eyes burning with desire. I gazed back with the same intensity, my body craving to have him back inside me.

As though he heard my thoughts, Erik slowly entered me, and I felt my body yield as he slid deeper and faster. His invasion sparked a rush of pleasure through my body.

His waist pounded into mine with rapid thrusts that made my breasts bounce back and forth. He quickened his pace, his growl growing more and more primal by the second.

I wrapped my arms around his back, my legs dangling in the air as he rammed me harder and faster. Shivers sprinted through my body, and my waist tilted upward, seeking more contact.

With a guttural moan, Erik's legs trembled as he filled me up with his essence. I tightened my arms around him, my pussy tingling, accepting him with a deep, throaty moan. He pushed further into me, and my hanging legs trembled with desire.

His sweaty body collapsed on mine before he slid off me, laying on his back. The room was filled with the scent of sex, sweat, and the sounds of our uneven breaths.

Erik pulled me to himself, positioning my head to rest on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat steadying by the minute. His palm caressed my skin, sending mild shockwaves across my body.

As I lay in his arms, half-naked, my nightgown hanging around my waist, the feeling of confliction set in. A part of me was still wary of him, but the other part couldn't deny the growing pull between us, the connection we just shared.

I stole a glance at his face, his eyes closed as though he was already drifting asleep. Although he didn't say anything after the sex, his protective arm around me was reassuring enough—at least for now.