Nikolai
I extend a hand towards her, waiting for her to hand over the gun like I requested. She doesn’t but I notice the way her grip falters around the handle.
A long second passes between us and I wait for her to lower the gun. She does not.
My stubborn wife remains rooted in the same position, her gaze frantic, confused as she searches my expression.
“Why do you have a gun?” She asks, and I arch a brow in her direction, considering her question for a moment.
“Is that what you Americans call a trick question?”
She frowns at me, clearly not finding my humour as faltering as I hoped she would. “I’m serious Nikolai.” she says, her voice stern, “Tell me why you have a gun in your room?”
“You are aware of my profession, or do you want to add that to the list of things you don’t know about me?”
Her frown deepens. Clearly, she doesn’t appreciate my response.
“When you are the head of one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the whole of America and Russia, you learn to never leave a single corner of your house unarmed” I step closer, the muzzle pressing deeper into my chest. I hook a finger under the strap of her dress, and her gaze briefly flickers to where my finger brushes her skin. “I keep a gun wherever I am, Solnyshko. It comes with the job description.”
Her stance relaxes a bit at my explanation but she doesn’t let go of the weapon.
“If you intend on shooting me Solnyshko, I suggest you do so quickly.”
“I could”
My gaze holds hers, “But you won’t
She pauses for a moment, and then, as expected, her shoulders slump and she lowers the gun, exhaling slowly from her mouth, “No” She wets her lips, “I won’t”
My mouth twitches, “That’s what I thought” She must sense the lack of displeasure in my voice because she looks up at me, her brows furrowed.
“You’re not mad?” She asks, her voice slightly breathless.
I pull back slowly so I can meet her gaze, “Should I be?”
“I pointed a gun at you”
“You were startled”
“I went through your things without your permission”
“You don’t need my permission to go through my things Solnyshko,” I say, meaning it, “You’re my wife. You have every right to touch as much of my things as you want.”
Something flashes in her eyes and she almost looks startled by my words. It’s the truth, though. She had every right to my things. Myself included.
“You can’t say things like that” I can hear the slight tremor in her voice when she speaks, and for some reason, that irks me.
My hand wraps around her wrist where my gun is still in her grasp.
“Why not, Solnyshko?”
“Because it makes me feel like this thing between us could be real.”
“And it could not?”
A pregnant pause fills the space between us, heavy almost suffocating. She avoids my gaze and instead lets it fall to my hand around her wrist, her lips thin.
“We both know the answer to that,” She says softly, her gaze holding mine. Neither of us moves first, and I cannot tell what she’s thinking no matter how much I try to make out her expression. I make a humming sound deep in my chest and pry the gun away from her fingertips. She allows me and doesn’t argue when I retrieve the weapon from her.
In the library and the living room I’d felt it-this pull, this connection between us she refuses to acknowledge. She was getting better at lying to herself but not to me. Never to me.
I return the pistol to my drawer before turning to face her. My eyes drag over her frame, lingering on her lips before I meet her eyes again. She was still in her dress, red fabric clinging to those luscious curves, I had dug my fingers into minutes ago.
My wife was soft all over, a tenderness I craved to feel against me, bare and entwined as I moved inside her, delivering long, deliberate strokes to her aching body and driving her so close to the edge that she’ll have no choice but to surrender to the pleasure.
“You’re still in your dress,” I say, stepping closer, the air between us growing heavier.
“I was in the middle of changing into something when I…”
My hands reach for her waist, pulling her against me in an instant. She gasps, her lips parting and her arm coming down on my forearm. Changing?
“Perhaps I did not make myself clear enough,” I say coarsely, leaning in and brushing my lips against the spot just below my ear, inhaling her scent. Fucking cherries. She shudders against me, her eyes going wide.
“I wanted you naked, Solnyshko.”
Her breath hitches in her throat and her body shivers ever so slightly against me. She curls her fingers tightly around my forearm, neither pulling nor pushing me away.
“Nikolai..” she whispers, digging her fingertips into my flesh. A grin tugs at my lips against her ear. She had no idea how my name, something I’d grown tired of hearing on other people’s tongues, stirred something primal inside me when she said it.
I clench my jaw, forcing myself to let her go. My hands drop to my sides, ignoring my body’s protest at the loss of her warmth. Stepping back, I take in the flush creeping up her neck, the subtle way her chest rises and falls with every unsteady breath she takes, and finally, I marvel at the way the tight red dress she wore tonight contrasts perfectly against her skin.
She looked so beautiful in her dress this evening that I knew that the difference without it would be far more devastating.
“Take it off,” I order. Her gaze flickers up to meet mine, wide and uncertain. Her lips part as she sputters with words she tries to make sense of and my gaze drops to the soft curve of her mouth.
I want to kiss her again. She had felt so willing against me in the library and so compliant in the living room. I want that again. I want her to give in to me, wholeheartedly this time.
She wets her bottom lip, her voice unsteady, “What?”
I cock my head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “You heard me, Solnyshko. Take. It. Off. Or do you need me to take it off for you?”
A moment passes, and just when I think she’s going to back down, she turns around, her back facing me. My gaze drops to the delicate line of her shoulders, the way her fingers tremble as she reaches for the zipper at the back of her dress.
She tries to tug it down but the zipper refuses to move. I step forward, closing the distance between us in an instant in a single second. “Allow me,” I whisper, fighting the urge to lean down and press a kiss at the curve of her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she says softly, giving way for my fingers.
The zipper gives way with little effort under my touch, the sound almost deafening in the charged silence. She watches me through our reflection in the mirror, her breathing coming out in soft, uneven pants as I drag the zipper slowly, exposing her flesh to the roughness of my fingertips. The zipper stops at the base of her spine and I hold her gaze in the mirror, hooking a finger under each strap of her dress. Her skin prickles under my touch and she gasps softly as I let the fabric slip from her shoulders.
The dress pools at her feet, leaving her standing in front of me in nothing but a black lace bra and a pair of strappy heels and nothing else.
Kak chelovek mozhet byt’ takim sovershennym? (How can a person be so perfect?)
A low hiss escapes my lips as my gaze travels down the length of her reflection in the mirror, memorising every bare inch of skin I can get my eyes on. I already knew she wasn’t wearing any underwear but seeing this? My hand instinctively goes to her waist, my fingers pressing gently into her skin as I squeeze her firmly, pulling her flush against my body. No word in the English and Russian dictionary can describe how perfect my wife is.
“You’re breathtaking, Solnyshko” I murmur, leaning my head down, my stubble grazing her cheek. “Absolyutno bezuprechnyy” (Absolutely flawless)
Her chest rises and falls in quick succession, and a faint blush stains her face.
“You’re just saying that because you want to sleep with me” She breathes, her hand coming up to rest on mine on her waist
“You think so little of your husband, Malysh.” I press a kiss on the shell of her ear, before trailing a path down the back of her neck, gently nipping when I get to her shoulder.
She trembles in my hands, her knees nearly giving out beneath her but I’m right beside her, catching her before she completely succumbs. She lifts a hand to wrap around my neck, fingers curling against my skin.
Her lips fall open, soft and inviting and I want nothing more than to sink my fingers into her hair and pull her back so that I can claim them.
“Nikolai,” She pants, begs. I’ll die a happy man if only she calls my name like that till the day we die. She shifts against me, her bare ass rubbing against my growing erection and I can’t hold back the groan that vibrates in my chest.
I slide my hand down her front, stopping just millimetres away from her pussy. Just a little closer and I’ll be able to feel her wetness soaking my fingers. I trail lower but just as I am about to brush her clit she clasps my wrist, stilling me.
“Nikolai wait,” Every muscle in my body goes taut at the urgency in her voice.
Pulling away just enough to meet her gaze once more in the mirror, I search her eyes for any sign of hesitation. But all I find instead is vulnerability.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, worry lacing my tone. The last thing I want is for her to feel like I’ve pushed her too far, too fast. She swallows, still gripping my wrist, and for a long second, there’s nothing but silence between us.
Does she not want this? Did I read her wrong?
“It wasn’t my intention to push you into something you aren’t-”
She turns around swiftly covering my mouth with her hand and stopping any more words from tumbling out.
“Will just listen to me” She looks up at me from beneath her lashes and I think my heart is going to burst out of my chest.
I fall silent, her hand still pressed against my mouth, and I watch as her gaze softens slightly, the tension in her body easing just a fraction.
“You’re not forcing me to do anything. There’s just something I need to tell you first before we continue.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself before she continues, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We can’t have sex, Nikolai”
I lift a brow. “I’m pretty sure we can,” I try to say but my words are muffled by her hand on my mouth. She pauses for a moment, her eyes flickering with uncertainty before she drops her hand from my mouth.
“It’s just,” she pauses, looking down briefly before meeting my gaze again, “I know this might sound strange, considering everything we’ve done so far but I want the first time I have sex with someone to be special, not just a quick tumble in the sheets”
It makes sense that this would be something she wants and I’m glad she decided to tell me first before we went any… wait a minute, did she say the first time she has sex with someone?
“Ava, when you say your first time, Do you mean…”
My voice trails off as her eyes meet mine a faint blush creeping up her neck.
“I’m a virgin Nikolai”