Page 21

“You weren’t?”

Evie shakes her head. “No, before I met Daniil, I didn’t know a thing about how the Bratva, or the Mafia, or any of this works.”

“So, how did you meet?”

“I worked at a swimming pool Daniil used to come to. One night he was there after hours and I spotted someone suspicious outside. I realized they were coming for Daniil, so I warned him.” She laughs, a melodious sound.

“Actually, I threw a shoe at him to get his attention. You should have seen his face.”

“That’s a story to tell your grandkids.”

“I know, right? Anyway, he killed the bad guys, but couldn’t leave me as a witness, so he carried me off on his private jet and the rest, as they say, is history.”

She rubs a hand over her belly.

“Is this your first child?”

“Second. It’s a boy. Our daughter, Mirabel, is back at the hotel with her nanny.”

“Mirabel.” I test out the name. “That’s pretty.”

“Thanks. She’s a sweet wee thing, but she can also be a holy terror. Daniil’s brother has twin sons, and the three of them create havoc together.”

“I can imagine.”

Suddenly, it occurs to me that Piotr and I haven’t discussed children.

I mean, we haven’t talked about much, but the subject of kids seems like an important one for newlyweds to broach, especially since we fucked without a condom.

Though I want a family, I want to achieve something of my own first. I have ambitions I’ve never told anyone about.

Will Piotr give me a chance to fulfill them or will he insist I focus all my energy on being his wife and then a mother to his children?

As much as I hate the thought of having that conversation, I guess it’ll have to be done.

When Niko returns with a glass of vodka, filled halfway, I take it gratefully and drink it in a single gulp. It’s got a pleasant, fragrant taste, but it burns the back of my throat. Somehow, I manage not to embarrass myself by spluttering.

“You sure you’re not part Russian?” Niko says with a laugh.

“Not even a little.”

I jump to my feet as people trickle into the room. Damiano is the first face I recognize. He’s closely followed by Lorenzo.

“Did you forget to put a dress on?” Lorenzo murmurs by way of a greeting as he leans in to kiss my cheek.

His comment pricks my insecurities about how I look, but I cover it with a haughty glare. “Don’t you have a pretty restaurant owner to harass?”

My cousin scowls, but if he thinks his obsession with Lucia Lazaro is a secret, he’s in for a shock. The entire world knows he wants her, and she’s giving him the runaround.

Before he can snipe back at me, Piotr appears by my side. He slides a possessive arm around my waist. “Olivia.”

His eyes are dark as he glances at me with obvious disapproval.

Shit. I should have gone with my gut and worn something to please him and not myself.

He doesn’t get the chance to voice his complaint about my appearance as we’re swarmed by his business associates, all keen to meet me.

Piotr makes brief introductions and I smile warmly as everyone welcomes me into the fold. Well, almost everyone.

Mila Lenkova, whose dress is even shorter than mine, slides an assessing gaze over me, declares Piotr’s choice of bride interesting , and then drags her husband off to the side of the room. She lays claim to him with a kiss that would make Satan blush, not that Niko seems to mind.

Just as it looks as if the couple might have completely forgotten they have an audience, Jacques appears in the doorway. “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Please make your way to the dining room and take your allocated seats.”

Evie was right. The man is a pompous ass.

As Sev leads everyone out of the room and along the corridor, Piotr grabs my arm and drags me in the other direction.

He opens a door and shoves me into a small room.

There’s a countertop with a sink in it, a washing machine and a dryer.

I guess this is Sev’s laundry room, though I’d bet good money he doesn’t even know it exists.

“Piotr, what…?”

“Shut up, Olivia.”

I bristle at the command as he spins me around and bends me over the counter. He draws my dress up and yanks my panties down with such force I hear the flimsy fabric rip. Despite my shock at being handled so roughly, my pussy grows wetter.

Piotr spanks my ass hard, the crack of his palm on my flesh impossibly loud in this small room. I gasp at the impact as he strikes me again. When his hand ricochets off my tender flesh for the third time, I squeal.

“Keep quiet!” Piotr hisses.

I clamp my lips shut as he delivers one sharp smack after another.

My ass throbs, but so does my clit. I wriggle my hips, trying to ease the pain and catch hold of the pleasure that’s building.

Piotr spanks me twelve times in total as I writhe helplessly against the marble countertop.

By the time he’s finished, I’m drenched.

My clit pulsates, and I’m desperate to be fucked.

How the hell has he conditioned me to this so quickly?

I guess the desire to be punished was always there.

When he turns me to face him, I breathe deeply to compose myself. It’s probably futile to hope he doesn’t know how being spanked affects me.

“What was that for?” I ask, my voice steady.

“For this atrocity.” He grabs the sleeve of my dress and gives my arm a shake. “What the hell were you thinking?”

This is a pivotal moment, I realize. If I give in to him over my clothing, what other demands will he make? The dress may be over the top, but it flatters my figure and I feel good in it. Is this a hill I’m willing to die on? Yes, I think it is.

“That this is something stunning.” I flick my hair back over my shoulder. “As requested.”

Piotr stares at me for a moment, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I rarely do, but I decide to take a risk.

“It worked.” I grab the collar of his crisp black shirt and tug him closer. “You’re stunned.”

I push up on my toes to kiss him. He’s only a couple of inches taller than me when I’m in these heels, but he tilts his head back, making me chase him.

As my lips capture his, he remains stubbornly rigid.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and flick my tongue out to coax him to open for me. He doesn’t.

“Piotr,” I moan against his obstinately closed mouth. “Husband.”

That jolts him into action. He curves a hand around the back of my neck and hauls me up against his taut, muscular body.

He takes over the kiss, pressing his lips to mine.

Our teeth and tongue clash as we fight for dominance.

Piotr ultimately wins, subduing me utterly.

When he’s stolen almost all the breath from my lungs, he breaks the kiss, leaving me panting with need.

Cupping my aching ass, he lifts me onto the countertop.

I hiss as my heated flesh meets the cold surface.

Piotr kisses me again as he steps between my legs, forcing me to spread my thighs wider to accommodate him.

His teeth drag across my lower lip, then he bites down until I taste the bitter tang of blood.

Fuck! That hurts in the best possible way.

“Piotr, please.”

“What do you want, malyskha ?”

“Your cock.”

“Where?”

“Where do you think?”

Piotr’s eyes light with dark desire. He likes it when I challenge him.

“Here?” he asks, running his thumb over my lips.

“Try again.” I am not getting down on my knees for him while my pussy is crying out to be filled.

“Your ass?” he asks.

I snort derisively. “Keep dreaming.”

“Oh, but I do dream, malyskha . I dream of what it will be like to fuck that tight little hole for the first time.”

I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s something I thought would come up, but whether I decide to grant him access to that last part of me or not, one thing is for certain. It won’t be happening in the laundry room of his friend’s house.

Piotr slides a hand between my legs. “Or perhaps it’s this greedy little pussy you’d like me to take care of.” He holds his fingers up. “Look how wet you are for me, malyskha .”

“I’m drenched.” I meet his gaze and hold it as I push my hips forward. “Desperate. Just for you.”

“Fuck, Olivia.” Piotr unzips his pants and frees his impressive erection. A hundred years could pass and I wouldn’t tire of the sight, of knowing that’s all for me. “You’re so fucking…”

Whatever he was going to say is forgotten as he drives his cock into me so hard I scream. Piotr slaps a hand over my mouth. A man who doesn’t indulge in public displays of affection probably doesn’t want to share my screams with his business associates.

Something about him silencing me turns me on even more.

As he pounds into me with harsh, unforgiving thrusts, my cries are muffled.

With his free hand, he palms my breast, squeezing until my eyes water.

He fists my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my neck.

He bites my throat, hard enough to leave marks.

I grab onto his shoulders and try to hold on as he fucks me.

With his hand over my mouth, I’m not getting enough air.

My head gets lighter until I think I’ll pass out.

Strangely, it only intensifies the clenching at my core.

Just as the sensation threatens to overwhelm me, Piotr removes his hand and I gulp in air. He digs his fingers into my hips.

“Come for me, malyskha .”

He changes the angle of penetration, so he hits a sweet spot inside me and my pussy clamps down on his swelling cock. My muscles clench and then the tension is released as I come with a low, deep moan.

Piotr wraps his arms around me, and I drop my forehead to his chest. We stay like that for a moment before he gently pushes me off him.

“We’d better get you cleaned up,” he says. “Only I get to see you like this.”

I smile up at him. For once, he looks disheveled.

“As long as only I get to see you like this.”

“That I can promise you.” As he stares into my eyes, there’s no doubting his sincerity. “No other women could ever compare to you, Olivia Rezanova.”

As he kisses me softly on the lips, my heart swells and a dangerous realization hits me. I’m falling for this man and I don’t know the first thing about him.