Page 9

P iotr

T hough I have a powerful urge to strip Olivia bare and show her just who she belongs to, I resist. Call me old-fashioned, but I want to wait until our wedding night to fuck her.

The first time I sink my cock into her snug pussy, the act will be symbolic, a sealing of the legal bond we’ve created.

It will make her irrevocably mine. That doesn’t mean she’ll escape the consequences of allowing another man to touch her, though.

When I walked in here and saw that asshole caressing her face, the self-control I pride myself on almost shattered.

It was bad enough she allowed some man into her home when none of her family is here, but then she let him touch her.

It wasn’t an innocent gesture. There was intimacy in it.

If I’d been another minute later, would I have caught them kissing?

“Do you want to take a seat?” Olivia motions toward the living room door.

I nod and she walks in ahead of me. Like the other parts of the house I’ve seen, this space is ultra-feminine, with cream floral curtains framing the windows and throw pillows on the pale pink sofas.

My uncle Boris spends a lot of time here now that he’s marrying Olivia’s mother.

It’s strange to see him at ease in such a flowery room.

His own apartment is decorated in shades of gray, black, and white, a stark palette that better suits his stoic personality.

Recently I’ve noticed a change in my uncle.

Since he and Ava Volante started dating, he’s been happier than I’ve ever seen him.

I’m pleased he’s found a woman who brings him peace.

Ava is a calming influence. I doubt I’ll experience that with Olivia.

She’ll challenge me at every turn. That suits me. I’m not looking for a quiet life.

“Please, sit,” Olivia says. “May I offer you a drink?”

Her forced politeness amuses me. I hadn’t planned on making myself comfortable, but if my fiancée wants to play hostess to soften my irritation, I’m willing to see where this takes us.

There are two sofas and an armchair in the room. I opt for the wing-backed chair by the fireplace that offers a view of the door and the window. In my line of business, it’s essential to be aware of my surroundings. More than one attempt has been made on my life.

“I’ll take a vodka,” I reply. “Neat.”

“Water’s for wimps.” Olivia smiles. “I remember.”

I’m irrationally pleased she recalls the brief conversation we had at the Volantes’ Tuscan villa and noted my preference.

She goes to a cabinet in the corner of the room and opens the door to reveal several bottles of hard liquor sitting alongside a variety of glasses.

As she pours a large measure of vodka and brings it to me, I cast an eye over her.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this.

Usually, Olivia is dressed immaculately, with flawless makeup.

I prefer this. With all artifice stripped away, it’s like glimpsing the real Olivia Volante.

“What are you wearing?” I ask as I accept the glass from her.

She looks down at herself as if she needs to check what clothes she put on. “I was planning to watch a movie.”

It takes all my self-control not to roll my eyes. Can nobody give a direct answer anymore?

“I didn’t ask what you were planning to do, Olivia. I asked what you’re wearing.”

She appears confused by my question, her brow furrowing. “Oh, it’s yoga pants and a top.”

“Do you usually welcome visitors into your home dressed like this?” It’s not her clothes I object to, but the way they mold to her body, accentuating her curves. It angers me that another man saw her like this.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight.” She sinks into an armchair across from me, strategically putting the coffee table between us. “Why did you come?”

If the little minx thinks she’s going to steer me away from finding out more about the asshole I caught her with, she’s mistaken. However, I will let her divert me for now.

“I wanted to check on the wedding preparations.” I sip the vodka she gave me. It’s not as smooth as my preferred brand, but it’s passable.

Olivia’s eyes widen. “I didn’t think you were interested in all that.”

I’m not. As far as I’m concerned, any fuss is unnecessary.

A trip to the courthouse and a celebratory meal at a Bratva-run restaurant would have satisfied me.

My uncle had other ideas. Egged on, no doubt, by Ava, he insisted on giving the Volantes free rein.

I don’t want to upset Ava. She’s a woman I admire and Olivia is her only daughter, so I agreed to let them do whatever they want.

It’s not as if they’ll be able to create the sort of three-ring circus I’d hate in a week.

“In the details, no,” I reply. Flowers, canapes, and all that shit are of no importance to me. “But I wanted to ensure things are progressing as they should be.”

“Afraid I’m using this week to plan my escape instead of a wedding?” Olivia tilts her chin defiantly.

“Plan all you want, malyskha , but if you run, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth. I’ll burn everything in my path to find you.”

Olivia rolls her eyes like she expected such a declaration. “How romantic.”

“And you thought I was a cold-hearted bastard.” A smile touches my lips. I like this banter between us. I’ve never had this with a woman before. “Now, tell me, are the wedding preparations on track?”

“Yes. The advantage of having so many sisters-in-law is that there are plenty of people to help. I delegated most tasks to them and my mother. My bridesmaids helped me shop for a gown.”

“Did you find one?”

“Yes, it took me ages to find the perfect one, but it was worth it.”

The thought of her shopping for the right dress pleases me. It shows she’s taking the wedding seriously and hopefully that means she’s reconciled herself with our union.

“That’s good.” I reach into my inner jacket pocket and retrieve a red velvet pouch. “Hopefully this will complement it.”

Olivia reaches across the table to take the pouch as I hold it out to her. She opens the drawstring and empties the contents into her palm.

“This is beautiful.” Her smile as she studies the necklace seems genuine.

“It’s not expensive, but it has sentimental value.”

The silver chain with a heart-shaped pendant belonged to my grandmother, the woman I owe my life to.

Lena Rezanova is the one who saw how my mother neglected me after my father abandoned her.

Burdened with chronic asthma, my grandmother couldn’t care for me alone, so she roped Uncle Boris into taking on a paternal role.

It’s thanks to them I’m the man I am today.

“I love it.”

“Will it work with your dress?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “Perfectly.”

“Good. My uncle hoped you would wear it.”

“Oh, it’s from Boris?”

Is it my imagination or does she look disappointed? Perhaps she thought it was a gift from me. I’m not the sentimental one in the family. I leave that to my uncle. Yet as Olivia’s face falls, I find I don’t want Boris to have all the credit.

“It belonged to my grandmother. I want you to have it.”

Olivia drops the necklace back into the pouch and sets it down on the table next to her. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“I’m sure you will. Now, perhaps you can tell me who that mudak was and why he had his hands on you.”

The sudden shift in topic should catch her off guard. The way her mouth drops open tells me the tactic worked.

“Dario’s an old school friend.” The quiver in her voice tells me there’s more to it. “We went to St. Mary’s High School together.”

Dario. I’ll store that away for later. No matter what Olivia tells me, I’m going to have him thoroughly checked out.

“And what did your old friend from St. Mary’s High School want?”

Olivia moves uncomfortably in her seat, and I suspect she’s about to lie to me. “He heard about the wedding and wanted to congratulate me.”

“And he had to do that in person?”

Olivia shrugs. “I guess he was in the neighborhood.”

Again, I think she’s lying because she swallows so hard I hear the gulp. It’s reassuring, I guess, that she has trouble concealing her deceit from me.

“So, why did he have his hands on you?”

“He was just… It was a friendly gesture.” She gets up and walks to the window in a futile attempt to evade my scrutiny.

“Did you like this friendly gesture ?”

Olivia turns to me. “I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this. It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Downing the rest of my vodka in one go, I set the glass down on the table and stalk toward her. “I’d hardly call another man touching you nothing.”

As I move closer, Olivia steps away from the window, backing up until she traps herself in a corner. I lean in and run the back of my fingers down her cheek. She stiffens.

“Tell me, Olivia, did you like him touching you?”

“No.”

“But he’s not a friend , is he?”

Panic flares in her eyes. “He used to be when we were in school.”

“You haven’t seen him since high school?”

“Yeah, but not…” She’s getting flustered, a sign she’s not being entirely truthful with me.

“Tell me, Olivia, has he fucked you?”

She gasps in outrage, but doesn’t answer.

“Has that asshole fucked you?” I demand, grabbing hold of her ponytail and using it to force her head back so she has no option but to look at me.

“No.” Her tone is so vehement, I believe her.

“Has he touched you?”

“No.”

That strikes me as a lie, but I’ll deal with it another time.

Right now, I want her to come undone for me.

Keeping a firm grip on her hair, I slide a hand down her front, skimming over her firm breast. It fits perfectly in the palm of my hand.

Olivia trembles, as responsive to my touch as she was in that parking lot in Florence.

I watch her closely as I slip my hand under the waistband of her tight stretch pants and wrench her underwear out of my way. She isn’t wet, but stroking her clit with my middle finger quickly changes that.

“Piotr,” she moans as I tease her clitoris.

“Do you like that, malyskha , or do you think I’m treating you like a whore?” I throw her words from Florence back at her.

“No, I… I like it.”

I huff out a laugh. “Then you’ll love this.”

Letting go of her hair, I drop to my knees. I drag Olivia’s pants and underwear down her long, slender legs and help her step out of her clothing.

“So eager,” I murmur as she kicks the gray pants and black lace thong aside. “Now, spread your legs.”

Olivia doesn’t hesitate. She’s as hungry for me as I am for her. Moving her feet apart, she widens her stance to give me easy access to her bare pussy.

“Clasp your hands behind your back and keep them there.”

Not only does the position push her delectable tits out, it also ensures she doesn’t touch me. I don’t want the distraction of her tugging my hair or trying to use me as an anchor to stop herself from getting carried away. I want her to fall.

Generally, I’m a patient man, but tonight I’m driven by an overwhelming need to demonstrate to Olivia she belongs to me.

Diving right in between her legs, I swipe my tongue along the length of her pussy.

Her taste is sheer heaven. The mewls she gives as I lap at her tender flesh are intoxicating.

I could lose myself in this woman, but tonight is not about feasting on her.

I have other business to attend to, so I’m going to have to make this quick.

Finding her clit, I swirl my tongue around the tight bud.

Olivia moans and tries to pull back from me.

She won’t get away that easily. Curving a hand around her waist, I drag her closer.

I lap her tender flesh, enjoying how she quivers at my touch.

I thrust my tongue inside her and then withdraw, replacing it with two of my fingers.

“Piotr!” Olivia shrieks as I curl my fingers to stroke that sweet spot inside her. “I can’t…”

“Oh, but you can, malyskha .”

As I shove my fingers deeper into her tight channel, I wrap my lips around her clit and suck hard.

Olivia bucks her hips against me, almost knocking me off balance with the force of her movement.

I sit back and watch her unraveling as she comes.

Her cry of ecstasy is a sound I want to hear over and over again.

Sadly, I’ll have to wait until after the wedding.

As I get to my feet, Olivia slumps against the wall, breathing hard. Her face is flushed and her eyes are unfocused. Just wait until our wedding night. Then she’ll know what it is to be truly fucked.

“I want to make something clear to you, Olivia.” I straighten the cuffs of my shirt. “If any man touches you, I’ll kill him and punish you in ways you can’t even imagine. From now on, you spread your legs only for me. Do you understand?”

“Piotr.” She speaks softly, as if she thinks she can appeal to my better nature.

Shooting my hand out, I grab her chin. My fingers dig into her cheeks until she whimpers. “Do you understand you’re mine and mine alone?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Releasing her, I turn and head toward the door. “Enjoy your movie night, malyskha . I’ll see you at the altar.”