His eyes closed briefly at the feel of her soft, warm hand gliding along his throbbing shaft. It was the wet, hot glide of her tongue around the head that made them pop open again. Nostrils flaring, he breathed in deeply and stared down at the raven-haired nymphet bobbing up and down on his cock. He loved watching his erection disappearing between her lips. The swirl of her tongue was even better.
"Solnyshka." He threaded his fingers through her hair and tried to maintain control over the raging urge to pump his hips. Deeper and deeper, she swallowed his length on every down stroke. His balls ached, and he wanted nothing more than to be buried in her tight, slick pussy. "Enough."
She dragged her mouth all the way back to the tip and held him in her mouth for a long moment before finally allowing him to slip free. He wiped her lower lip and smiled when she bit down on his thumb. Brushing his knuckles along her cheek, he said, "Turn around. On your knees."
She hastily complied with his instruction and gripped the arms of the chair. Her perfect little ass wiggled side to side as she presented herself to him. He caressed her back and bottom before gently, carefully, probing her with his fingers. She was so fucking wet he could hear his digits sliding in the slickness between her thighs. His cock pulsed, and his groin tightened. He had to get inside her. Now.
Cock in hand, he guided the blunt crown into her and thrust forward. He held onto her hips and withdrew from the wet heat enveloping him. She moaned with pleasure and pushed back to meet his next forward motion. He picked up the pace but tried to be mindful of the force he used. Since discovering her pregnancy, he had been eaten up with worry. He would do anything to keep her and the baby safe. Anything.
"Kolya." She breathed his name on a sigh and reached back to grab his hand. "So good." Her fingers gripped his wrist now. "Oh, God. More. More."
Hearing her beg for his dick shattered his control. He had never been able to deny her anything and wasn't about to start now. He gave her exactly what she wanted and fucked her harder and faster. She gripped the top of the chair now and cried out again and again. The keening sounds echoed in the room.
When she lowered her head, her black hair fell away from her neck and revealed the tattoo. My tattoo. Unable to help himself, he ran his fingers over the dark mark. It was a primitive thing, but he couldn’t stop the grip of possession and ownership that clutched at his heart. Mine.
Wanting to feel her come and to remind her who lived to give her pleasure, he leaned forward and slipped his hand between her thighs. His arm brushed her belly, and he felt the slight curve there. As petite as she was, she was already showing. Soon their secret would be difficult to keep. The fear that kept him awake at night stabbed his chest. He muscled it down and focused on beautiful Vivian who writhed with need beneath him.
With the practice that came from learning his sweet wife's body, he found her clit and expertly strummed it. His name poured of her mouth in an unending litany as she chased her orgasm. He felt that first flutter of her pussy and smiled triumphantly. "Let go, Vee. Give it to me. Come. Come."
She did. With a white-knuckled grip on the chair, she trembled violently and climaxed. Bending down, he licked the tattoo on the back of her neck and then bit down before riding her hard and fast. She cried out his name, and her cunt clutched his cock, setting off his own explosion. Buried deep inside her, he jerked roughly and filled her with his seed.
He fell against her back and panted against her neck. "Vee." He whispered to her in Russian. "Ya obozhayu tebya."
She clasped his forearm. "I love you."
Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and found some paper towels on her worktable to clean them up. When she tried to stand, he noticed her unsteadiness and instantly leapt to her side. He caught her before she fell. "Vee! Are you all right?"
"Sorry," she said a bit breathless. "I'm just dizzy."
He silently cursed himself for being so careless with her. She was pregnant and carrying his child. He needed to be more careful with her.
"Come here, baby." Not bothering to get her dressed, he sat in the chair and tugged her down on top of him. He hooked his foot along the side of the ottoman and dragged it closer. Stretched out together on the comfortable chair and stool, they enjoyed a quiet moment. He brushed his fingers through her hair and caressed her bare back.
The new painting she was working on caught his attention. She had been using palette knives for this one and only palette knives. The layers of oil paint created a depth and richness that made the colors seem so incredibly vibrant. There was something about this painting that unsettled him though. The longer he stared at it, the more convinced he was that she was trying to tell him something important. He could almost feel the waves of conflict and uncertainty flowing from the piece.
His hand traveled to her belly, and he placed a protective hand over the spot where his child was growing. Not for the first time, he wondered if he should have taken measures to delay their family. Vivian had been through so very much since Christmas. She had nearly been killed and trafficked. He had rushed her into marrying him so he could keep her safe. Now, she was pregnant with what he, selfishly, hoped was the first of many children.
But she was young and had her entire life ahead of her. Her career as an artist was just beginning to blossom. Soon she would have a child, and while he was prepared to do everything he could to support her dreams and aspirations, he feared motherhood might impede her journey. The guilt gnawed at him. He should have been more responsible and put her future first.
"You're terribly pensive today." She stroked his jaw. "Is everything all right?"
He kissed her palm and turned the question around on her. "Is everything all right with you?"
Vivian glanced at him. "Yes. Why?"
"The last six months of your life have been filled with changes."
"They were good changes." She cuddled in closer to him and pressed her cheek to his chest.
He bit his tongue rather than reminding her that she had married a mob boss. Good wasn't the adjective he would have used to describe that change. Embracing her and kissing the top of her head, he murmured, "I'll do anything to make you happy, Vee. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. It's yours if you ask me."
"I am happy." She kissed his jaw. "With you." Trailing her fingers down his chest, she asked, "How was work?"
He understood that she was asking about the restaurant and not his other work. Grunting at the memory of the spat between waitresses, he said, "Lidia and Jessica got into it again. I could hear them squawking at one another from my office."
"What was it this time?"
"I have no idea. I didn't ask. I sent them both home and took them off the schedule for two days." Wrapping her hair around his finger, he admitted, "You were right about Lidia. I probably should have let her go after the night she purposely dumped that glass of wine on Bianca."
"Bianca told me that Lidia apologized to her. She accepted the apology and wiped the slate clean."
He made an irritated noise at that. "Bianca is too sweet for her own good. Sergei will have his hands full with her."
Vivian snorted indelicately. "In more ways than one."
He laughed. "Listen to you! I should be ashamed at how badly I've corrupted you." Her soft giggle inspired a smile. "Do you need to do any last minute shopping before we leave for London next week?"
"I don't think so. I'm going to see Holly on Friday for a quick trim and to have Maria do a manicure. I'd like for us to have everything packed by Thursday."
"That won't be a problem." He mentally arranged his schedule for the upcoming week. It was going to be a busy one for him. One of his most loyal soldiers was being released from prison, and he needed to finalize the arrangements for his crew while he was out of town with Vee. Kostya would be in charge, and Arty would be his second. He had no doubts when it came to his two most trusted men, but he worried about his fugitive father-in-law Romero and Julio Jimenez, the cartel's main man in Houston, coming to blows.
r /> There were already rumblings on the street that Romero was going to challenge the cartel and do it using backup from Maksim. The two old bastards were already running guns south of the border and causing serious headaches for him. Nikolai feared Vee's father would try to make his move against his old cartel while he was away in London and the city was vulnerable. He had to shore up his alliances before leaving so that Kostya was in the strongest position possible.
But he didn't want to think of any of that right now. Lush and naked, Vivian was curled against him. He didn't want any of the ugliness of the underworld to touch her.
"We have our first doctor's appointment on Tuesday. Don't forget that you're supposed to meet me there at two."
"I won't." The prospect of the first glimpse of their baby on ultrasound excited him. It still seemed a bit unreal, but he was certain that seeing their baby would make it all more final. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"How much longer are we going to keep this quiet?"
"I don't know. As long as possible." Hating the position they were in, he interlaced their fingers and smiled at the paint smudges staining her skin. Because she deserved to know the truth, he confessed, "Our fathers are stirring up trouble with Lorenzo Guzman. Until I can get that mess sorted, I don't feel comfortable announcing your pregnancy. You read the Mexican newspapers, Vee. You know what the cartel is capable of doing."
He swallowed hard and placed his hand against her stomach. Fingers splayed, he silently vowed that nothing would stop him from keeping them both safe. Nothing. "We have to be careful until things go quiet down there."
She sighed loudly. "Our dads really suck."
He chortled at her remark. He would have used a stronger word to describe the situation. "They do seem to enjoy making things difficult and dangerous for everyone."
"Is it worth it? All this trouble they're causing?" she clarified. "I mean, what are they going to get out of going to war with the cartel?"
He planned to use all the favors he could call in to avoid a war. He had a reputation for negotiating his way out of stalemates like these and hoped he could prevail upon Maksim and Romero to see the light. A war would be bad for everyone in the underworld.
"Money," he said finally. "It's always about money, solnyshka."
"Greedy bastards," she grumbled.
He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head again. "Do you think you can stand up now? We need to shower and change soon or else we'll be late for dinner with Bianca and Sergei."
"I just need to remember to move more slowly when I'm changing positions." She let him help her stand and humored him with a smile when he tugged her dress down over her head. He slipped her panties into his pocket and earned a frown. "Remember to put those in the hamper. I'm pretty sure Boy will die of embarrassment if my undies tumble out of your suits when he takes them to the cleaners on Monday morning."
He tried to imagine the look on the kid's face if he got a peek at the sexy little panties Vivian preferred. Of course, he hadn't missed the way the kid stared at her when he thought no one was paying attention. He couldn't blame Boychenko for wanting to look, but he trusted the kid knew better than to even think about crossing that line.
Upstairs, he joined Vivian in the shower. She had piled her hair high on top of her head to keep it from getting wet. She still hadn't shown off the tattoo in public yet, and the one on the back of his neck wasn't visible because of his shirt collars. He rather liked that it was something just for them and didn't mind that others hadn't seen them.
"Will you be all right in here alone?" He eyed her carefully. "Are you still dizzy?"
She poked his stomach. "You worry too much. I'm fine."
"I'm your husband." He kissed her temple and smoothed his hand along her belly. "It's my job to worry about you and the baby. When I married you, I swore vows to protect you and care for you. That means making sure you don't pass out in the shower."
Her expression softened. "I really am fine."
Taking her at her word, he exited the shower and grabbed towel. He rubbed his skin dry and wrapped the towel around his waist before heading for their large walk-in closet. He paused as he passed Vivian's racks of clothing and ran his fingers along the soft fabrics. It was a simple thing—a silly thing, really—but the sight of her things mixed in with his filled him with the most incredible sense of contentment.
She was here with him—in his house and in his bed—and shared his name. She was exactly where she was always meant to be. By bravely choosing to love him, with all his flaws and his sordid past, Vivian had given him something so precious. She filled his home with love and happiness and gave him a reason to be a better man.
He wasn't stupid enough to believe that he would ever be good. No, that fucking ship had sailed and sunk a long time ago. He wasn't like Sergei. He couldn’t be redeemed in that way, but he could be better. He would do anything to make Vee proud of him. Even now, he was using leverage and leaning on Romero to avoid bloodshed. A few cleanly executed hits would be quicker than negotiating, but he couldn't bear the thought of Vivian looking at him with mistrust and disappointment.
"Kolya?" The shower had shut off and he could hear Vivian opening vanity drawers.
"Yes?" He called out to her as he selected a pair of jeans and a lightweight shirt. Around the house, he was comfortable wearing a polo, but he didn't want to bare his arms at Bianca's home because he wasn't sure about the guest list.
"I got distracted earlier when you came home, and I forgot to ask you something."
He picked out a pair of Italian leather wingtip boots. "Oh?"
"Niels said that a journalist he met a few days ago asked him about a Russian woman who was coming to the show in London. He didn't recognize her name, and he wondered if she was someone from our social circle. Her name wasn't familiar to me."
"What was it?"
"Tatiana Melnikova."
The boots dropped from his hands and hit the hardwood floor with a thump.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes." He quickly recovered and snatched up his shoes. "I dropped my boots."
"Oh. So Tatiana? Do you know her?"
"No." Guilt squeezed his chest in a vise-like grip. Fuck. Fuck. Even though it would be easier, he couldn't lie to her. Swallowing roughly, he confessed more loudly, "Yes."
Boots in hand, he left the closet and found her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Wrapped in her robe, she clutched at the labels and peered at him with confusion. "Why did you change your answer?"
Tossing his boots onto the closest chair, he expelled a noisy breath and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no easy way to say it. " Tatiana Melnikova isn't her real name. It's a fake. It's a name and an identity I bought for her. Her real name was Tatiana Filipova—and she was my fiancée."
Vivian's face slackened, and her delicate hand moved to her throat. "You… But…"
"It was before you, Vee." The look of betrayal etched into her beautiful face slashed at his heart. "Years before you ever came to Samovar," he hurriedly explained. "You were still in high school, and your grandparents were alive."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I didn't think you would ever find out. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't admit that he had been hoping to never have this conversation with her. "She had to disappear. There was no reason to tell anyone about it. Besides it was a long time ago, Vee. She doesn't matter."
"You don't get to decide something like that unilaterally." Her sharp tone surprised him. "How would you feel if you found out I had been engaged to another man before you? That I had been planning to become his wife and have his children and build a life with him?"
Jealousy burned through him. Slashing his hand through the air, he insisted, "It's not the same, Vee."
Incredulous, she threw out both hands. "How?"
"Because I didn't love her! She was handpicked by Maksim to form an alliance with the a rival family. It was a way for Maksim and her father to align
their interests. That's it. It was a practical decision."
"People might think you're describing our marriage."
"How?"
"My father and your father found a way to align their interests." She looked like she might start crying at any second, and it fucking killed him. "The night you proposed to me, you had been in meetings with the cartel and taking phone calls from Moscow. Did Maksim tell you to propose to me?"
"No! It wasn't like that for us."
"Are you sure?" She arched one dark eyebrow. "You asked me to marry you because you were catching heat from all sides. You gave me your name to protect me."
"I asked you to marry me because I fucking love you, Vivian." Irritated that she would even compare their marriage to the sham that he would have had with Tatiana, he snarled, "You are the only one—the only fucking one—I have ever loved. Ever." He gritted his teeth and tried to maintain his cool. "Don't ever question my love for you. It's the one thing I won't abide."
"Then why did you lie to me just now? I asked you if you knew Tatiana and you said no."
"I panicked." He wasn't proud to admit it. "I haven't heard her name in years. That's a complicated and very messy chapter of my life that was supposed to be closed forever. Everyone thinks Tatiana Filipova is dead or that I had her killed. No one would dare to say her name in front of me. That's the way it needs to stay. Her new identity—Tatiana Melnikova—has no connection to mine."
"Why?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "For a man who says he didn't love her, you've gone to extremes to save her life and to avoid talking about her."
Just tell her. Tell her the whole ugly, sordid truth about Tatiana and be done with it.
But he couldn't. He had given his promise, and he never broke his word. Surrounded by a minefield, he had to tread carefully. "Tatiana was caught with another man," he added. "She humiliated me in front of my crew and in front of krestnii otets. In front of Maksim," he clarified, in case she had any question as to the godfather he meant. "Her father and mine would have killed her if I hadn't told Kostya to get her out of the country. Even if someone suspected she was still alive, she would be fucking dead to me and to everyone in this family and her own."