Page 26 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

Future Husband

Kirill

Mia’s surprised and disgusted shriek signaled that she was awake. Her quick footsteps pattered on the floor, and she flew into the living room, escaping what she just saw.

“Oh my God! No! Ew, ew, ew!” She hopped onto my couch in complete disarray. “Are you insane?! What is that?! Please don’t tell me they’re real!” she demanded, wide-eyed and shaking in her little beer-stained dress.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” I called out from the dining table across the expanse of the open floor plan. “Are you feeling okay?”

“No! Did– did you put those in there?” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other while I enjoyed the sight of her in my home once more. Finally, I could breathe easier.

"Good-ah mornin', Miss, my name is Francesco," my butler called out in his Italian accent, his voice raspy and old.

Mia jerked her head to him, doing her best to process who he was. She clasped her arms around her, like it would protect her from the eyeballs.

"I make-ah coffee for you?" he asked her so calmly, his unbothered approach throwing her off even more. "Or maybe an orange juice-ah? Freshly squeezed, hm?" Francesco piped up again, doing his best to keep her morning normal .

He was probably seventy-five, but his energy and zest for life kept him young. I didn't want to hire him at first, offering him some money to retire, but he insisted that work was the way to happiness. It turned out that I loved having him around.

"C-coffee is good." Mia cleared her throat and responded to the waiting Francesco. "Thank you." She was always so polite, so kind, such a ray of sunshine.

Francesco puttered around the kitchen making coffee and breakfast, and I pondered what to do. I had to leave today and at this point, she was coming with me, no question about it.

I lifted myself off the chair and stalked toward her, unable to contain my smile at the way she looked over my naked, inked chest. As if afraid of me, she pressed herself into the back of the couch.

“Are those his eyes?” she whispered once I was in front of her, afraid of the answer. I nodded without hesitation. “How could you just kill someone like that?” She gulped, unsure of her own question.

"Any man who touches you will suffer the same fate, Mia. Would you have preferred I let him carry out his sick fantasy on you?" Predictably, she stayed silent.

After the week I had without her, without seeing her, touching her, being with her…I was fucking destroyed and angry. "I would have cut off his hands for touching you, but I didn't have a jar large enough. Plus, I only had a switchblade with me; to cut off hands, I'd need someth–"

"Stop! Jesus! Stop talking about it like that!" She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, looking disgusted and visibly fighting with herself.

"You have blood in your hair. Go shower, and then Francesco will make you breakfast. We're leaving in two hours," I informed her and made a move to walk away, but of course, she began to disagree, grabbing my forearm and tugging me back.

“Excuse me? Where the hell are we going? I'm not going anywhere! "

Oh, really? Time was ticking, and I didn't have the emotional stability to argue after not having seen her for a whole week. So I took the fast and easy way out—I swung her over my shoulder and headed for the shower.

“Hey!” She squirmed in my arms. “What are you– hey! Let me go!” Her little kicks and punches, accompanied by her loud protests, only brought a smile to my face. My girl was feisty. I loved it.

I placed her wiggling body on the marble vanity while I turned the shower on and checked the water. "Take your clothes off and get in." I knew my tone was cold and unforgiving, and I hoped she would obey, but no.

"If you want me to comply, ask nicely,” she melted into a fake smile, her voice sticky sweet. “I'm not your servant."

Defiance wasn’t a particular turn-on for me in the past, but fuck, with her, it unlocked a deep desire I didn’t know I had. I came closer, and she leaned back, apprehensive.

"Deal. I’ll order you around nicely . Get in the shower, please . ”

But she wasn’t going to obey; that little spark in her eyes told me loud and clear.

"No," she responded with a small smile. Mm, she liked to taunt, and it made my dick hard at the most inconvenient moment.

The shower was more than large enough for the two of us, so without thinking further, I picked her up again.

"Stop! You big Sasquat– ah!" The water rained down on her face, and I closed the shower door, trapping us both inside.

Something came over me, and I was fucking done with all her little antics.

My fingers grabbed ahold of that dress, and I pulled, sending little buttons flying in every direction.

She wore a black lacy lingerie set. It was new to me, seeing her like this.

“Hey! I loved that dress!"

"Not a problem, Sunshine. Let’s go shopping together later, but right now, just fucking wash the blood out of your hair; we have to go. "

Oh fuck, the last time we were in here, my dick was deep inside that tight pussy, Mia's body pressed against me while her moans bounced off the white marble walls. Judging by the look in her eyes, she was remembering the scene too.

We were at a stalemate, both standing in front of each other, soaked and half naked. Mia's see-through black bra and panties did nothing to hide her body from me, and my hands were literally itching to rip it all off her.

She made no movement to oblige me in my requests. "Who do you think you are, hm? To order me around like that?" The blood in her hair was running down her body, creating an image I never wanted to see.

"Your future husband,” I spoke with confidence. “Now, please, Sunshine. Turn around and let me wash your hair.” I leaned in, my lips an inch away from hers. “Unless you want to repeat what we did in here last time…but I’m afraid we’ll be late for our flight.”

She faltered, both wanting it and never wanting to admit it.

Finally, she followed my request and slowly faced the wall, bringing her plump asscheeks into view instead.

Jesus Christ, I was an idiot to place myself in a position like this right now.

But that's exactly what happened to me when she was around. All my brain cells took a fucking hike.

As soon as my fingers made it onto her scalp, a tiny whimper escaped her, and her shoulders dropped, relaxing into it. As much as I had been obsessed with her for nearly a decade, I didn't actually know what her preferences were, but I was attentive and made a mental note of everything.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered after a few seconds and leaned back into me, her eyes closed and her body limp and obedient.

Yes, fuck, just like that. I gently massaged the shampoo into her hair, making sure to remove all remnants of blood, as if cleansing her of it would guarantee that she would never get hurt. "Mmm, that feels so good."

Ugh, I was so hard it was painful, but now wasn't the fucking time. In fact, now, I would make her beg for it. Now, I'd stay away and help her realize that she couldn't stop this; she couldn't fight me or herself anymore.

"You like that, Sunshine?" I whispered in her ear, and without hesitation, she nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I like that,” she admitted quietly. "You do it so well. Why do you do everything so well?”

Because I was deeply and devastatingly in love with her. “Because you can’t resist this. Why did you run away from me?” The question burst out of me, notes of desperation drenching the sentiment like the warm water washing her hair clean of yesterday's trauma.

But she was silent, trying to escape the answer. I washed the shampoo out and then gently pulled on that beautiful hair, forcing out a tiny moan from her.

“Answer me. Why did you run away?”

The steam filled up the shower, and I waited, feeling her body inch closer to mine. "Because. You're not good for me,” she finally responded with words I didn’t want to hear. My Sunshine was fighting her fate tooth and nail.

"I'm perfect for you, baby. I'm exactly what you need." My body was flush against her now, her skin so wet and warm, perfect, and mine. Just for me.

“No. You’re bad. You’re a bad man. You do terrible things. You killed someone last night. And I’m a good girl.”

Oh fuck, the way she said it forced me to hug her tighter. “Yes, you are, baby. But that’s why this works so well. That’s why you can’t stay away. That’s why I’ll never let you go, Sunshine.”

At this, she slowly twisted her head, not daring to open her eyes to look at me but contentedly snuggled in my embrace. “What if I run away again?” she whispered into my lips. “What if…someone takes me away?”

And that was my big, huge, enormous anxiety.

“Then I will find you, svet moy . I will find you. Keep you. Save you. Cherish you. Love you. Give you everything you want. No one can ever take you away.” But that was my delusion speaking. I knew that.

Genuine fear and worry started to creep in like a fog.

I’d been through a lot in my life. I was beaten, left for dead, tortured, shot, stabbed, and cut apart.

I endured all physical altercations, albeit not without some scars as a reminder, but if I lost Mia somehow, it would be psychological pain that I wouldn’t survive. I couldn’t have that.

Now that she was in my arms, I was certain she could never be anywhere else, never with anyone else.

An even darker thought developed from that while Mia swayed in my arms under the hot water.

Now, someone could use her as leverage against me.

My blood boiled at the thought of someone getting his hands on her.

But that would never happen. I would never let that happen.

I would do everything in my power to circumvent it. I’d turn my whole life upside down.