Page 60 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

VESPER

It’s nearly midnight when we finally get home.

I go straight to the nursery to check on Tali, who’s sleeping peacefully in his crib with the night nanny on duty beside him.

Maria looks up from the baby blanket she’s crocheting and gives me a quick rundown of his day—how much he ate, when he napped, how long he played with his toys.

I breathe a sigh of relief knowing my baby is safe and well cared for.

I slip into Luka’s room next, just to see his sleeping face. He’s curled up so tightly in his blankets that he’s barely visible, but I can see enough to know he’s peaceful. Content.

Satisfied that my boys are okay, I head back to our bedroom. Kovan is already in the shower. The bathroom door is closed and I can hear the water running.

I stand outside the door, still wearing my black Prada dress and Valentino wedges. My hair is still pinned in its neat chignon, though several strands have escaped throughout the long day.

He probably wants to be alone. It was an exhausting day, and he kept his distance from me the entire time. Maybe that’s his way of telling me to keep mine as well.

I start to walk away from the door—but something makes me stop.

“Screw that,” I whisper under my breath as I reach behind me to unzip the dress.

It feels incredible to be rid of the stiff fabric. I step out of my heels and pull the pins from my hair, letting it fall loose around my shoulders. Naked, I slip quietly into the bathroom.

The room is thick with steam. I can barely make out Kovan’s silhouette through the glass shower door. He’s standing with his back to me, and over the sound of the powerful spray, he hasn’t heard me enter.

My heart pounds as I slide open the shower door and step inside. The wall of heat immediately envelops my body, and I have to blink against the fog.

Kovan turns at the sound, and when his eyes meet mine, I see everything he refused to show today.

The exhaustion.

The worry.

The weight of responsibility that threatens to crush him.

All my doubts evaporate instantly. I walk straight into his arms and pull him close. “You were incredible today,” I murmur against his chest. “Absolutely incredible.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his arms tighten around me until I can barely breathe. I don’t care. I’d rather he cut off my circulation than end this embrace.

He needs this.

We both do.

Finally, he loosens his grip and looks down at me, conflict swirling in those green eyes. “You didn’t have to stay the whole time,” he says. “Pavel or Osip could have driven you home after you paid your respects to the families.”

“You stayed, so I stayed, too. My place is beside you, Kovan.”

He frowns, studying my face. “You must be exhausted.”

“Not half as exhausted as you are,” I say, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

The skin is rough with stubble, and there are new lines around his eyes that weren’t there this morning.

“We were there for hours, and you never sat down once. Not even for a minute. I wanted to come to you, wanted to be there for you, but Pavel stopped me. He said you needed to handle it alone.”

“I know you don’t understand why?—”

“But I do,” I interrupt. “I don’t like it, but I understand it. You need to be seen as invincible. You need to inspire trust and faith so your men will follow you anywhere, even into hell if necessary. It’s something Ihor will never have, Kovan. You should be proud of that.”

He brushes a wet strand of hair away from my face. “Maybe you do understand.”

“I told you I could handle this world, Kovan. It’s brutal—I’m aware of that. But I think I have what it takes to not just survive in it, but to thrive.”

He smiles then, the first real smile I’ve seen from him all day. “How could I have ever doubted you?”

“Because you should have doubted me. I doubted myself. If I’m being honest, there was a time when I didn’t think I could do it, either.”

“What changed?”

“You changed everything,” I explain. “You made vows to me. You made me your wife. You showed me what a real partnership looks like. And I realized that, as long as you’re beside me, I can handle anything.”

His hands slide around my neck, thumbs stroking along my jawline. “You are an extraordinary woman, Vesper Fairfax.”

“And I could only ever love an extraordinary man,” I murmur, pressing closer to him. “You spent the entire day taking care of everyone else. Now, let me take care of you.”

I can tell it doesn’t come easily for him—putting himself in someone else’s hands. Even mine. His muscles tense as I place my palms flat against his chest, feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch.

“Vesper…” he starts.

“Shh,” I hum softly, slowly sinking to my knees on the shower floor. “The time for talking is over, husband. Let me take care of you now.”

He stares down at me, water trickling between the ridges of his abs as I wrap my hand around his hardening length. I take my time at first. I stroke, I tease, I press soft kisses to his hip bones while he grips the shower walls on either side of us.

When I finally take him into my mouth, he shudders and seems to melt against the tile. All it takes is that first touch of my tongue, and he’s mine—ready to surrender this terrible day to me.

This is what our partnership will look like, I realize. He’ll be the leader for the world to see. The pakhan , the don, the man with no weaknesses and no flaws.

But behind closed doors, he can let his guard down. He can be human.

And, far from being his weakness, I can be his strength.

I take him deeper. His fingers tangle in my wet hair as he exhales my name. He tastes clean from the shower, masculine and perfect. He’s so hard I can barely fit him in my mouth, but I’m nothing if not determined.

Opening wider, I work my head back and forth, letting his tip reach the back of my throat.

“Christ,” he groans, his grip tightening on my scalp. “Baby, yes… just like that…”

I take my time with him. I lap at him with my tongue until I can take him completely.

When I’m ready, I swallow him so deep I can feel him hit the back of my throat, and when he starts breathing harder, thrusting with increasing urgency, I hold steady.

I take his pain, his stress, his exhaustion—everything he gives me.

And when he comes with a broken gasp that makes my core clench with need, I drink him in and swallow every drop.

That’s what a good wife does.