by Bella Rose
She started to pant. He felt her opening flexing against his fingers. She was ready for penetration, but he wanted her to come first. He wanted to bring her pleasure over and over until she was too gone with lust to remember that she hadn’t wanted him to begin with. Using two fingers, he straddled her clit and very carefully rubbed her in quick, rhythmic circles. She started to tremble. Then her eyes slid shut, and he knew she was going to climax.
“Come for me, Tori,” he ordered. “Let go and give me what I want. Now.”
An orgasm instantly rocked her body. She would have fallen over if he hadn’t slung an arm around her naked waist. He loved the way it felt to have her naked body pressed up against him. There was power in it, and satisfaction too. His hand was wet with her juices, and he could smell her feminine cream all over his fingers.
“I’m going to take you to our bedroom,” he whispered. “I’m going to spread those lovely thighs, and I’m going to put my cock inside you.”
She whimpered as if she couldn’t speak any words.
He gently bit down on the sensitive lobe of her ear. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”
***
TORI’S BODY HAD turned traitor on her. That was the only explanation for what was going on. She shouldn’t want him this much. She shouldn’t be nearly on fire for this man. He was a stranger. Yet when he pointed to the bedroom, she went.
She crossed the floor still wearing her heels and entered the room. The only light came from the soft glow of two antique lamps placed on either side of the bed. The entire space was inviting. The bed was huge and covered in a satin duvet that invited touching. There were fluffy pillows with tassels, and even drapes tied back to the bedposts. It was a bed fit for a king.
“Get on the bed.” Mikhail pointed, and Tori found that she couldn’t deny him.
She scooted backwards, putting her bare bottom on the coverlet and kicking off her shoes. She pressed her thighs together. There was such a sensation of being exposed! She felt so very vulnerable. It sent her emotions on a roller coaster ride and left her mind spinning.
Mikhail moved in close. He put his hands on the inside of her thighs. “Unlock your legs, Tori. I want to see your pretty pussy.”
Her legs fell open as though she couldn’t hold them closed any longer. Cool air brushed across her heated skin. She was wet and hot and achy. Everything below her waist was in flames. She needed to feel his touch so badly. He had touched her before, and he’d made her come more powerfully than she’d ever experienced before in her life. If he could do that with only his fingers, what would it be like to actually feel the delicious sensation of penetration?
Tori heard the jingle of a belt followed by the sound of a zipper. There was a rustle as Mikhail got out of his pants. Finally, he unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt and pulled it over his head. The sight of his smooth, muscled chest made Tori forget how to breathe. Each and every muscle was individually cut as though he’d been carved by a master sculptor. There was no way she’d been prepared for this sort of yummy maleness. Compared to Mikhail, every other guy she’d ever been with had been nothing but a puny boy.
“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
His low laugh made her belly clench with lust. “Would you like to touch?”
“Please?”
He climbed up onto the bed and straddled her legs. Then he took one of her hands and placed it on his chest. The feel of his golden skin beneath her fingers made her forget that she was more or less pinned beneath him. She rubbed a trail from one of his hard pectorals, down his belly to his navel. Her eyes were immediately drawn lower. His cock was hard and it was huge.
Tori swallowed down a lump that appeared in her throat. She had never been with a man like Mikhail before. This was going to either be the most incredible sex of her life, or the last sex of her life.
***
MIKHAIL WAS FAST losing his tenuous hold on his control. He needed Tori so very badly. He’d watched her come only a few minutes ago, but it wasn’t enough. His balls were tight with his seed, and his cock was throbbing so hard he was experiencing physical pain. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and gently squeezed to try and get some relief.
Having Tori touch him was equal parts pleasure and agony. He loved the way she seemed so enthralled by every detail. It was a boost to his ego that he probably didn’t need. She looked so enamored. And yet when she put one finger on the tip of his cock and began circling the head, he thought his eyes might cross. His instincts were demanding he shove his way between her legs and penetrate her in one hard thrust. That, however, would likely rip her apart. He needed to be slow. Tori didn’t seem all that experienced, and he couldn’t treat her like some common woman he’d picked up in a bar. This was his wife.
With hands that shook, he gently spread her thighs apart and positioned himself between her legs. She was breathing hard. Each inhale and exhale made her breasts bounce gently. The enticing sight nearly mesmerized him.
He shook off his reverie and very carefully dragged the tip of his cock through the damp folds of her pussy. Tori gasped and arched her back. She twisted her fingers in the coverlet and squeezed her eyes closed.
“Is that too much?” he managed to ask through clenched teeth.
“No!” she gasped. “I need more! Please, give me everything!”
Mikhail fit the end of his cock to her opening and began pressing slowly into her body. She was incredibly tight. The sensation of parting her inner muscles was exquisite, but he was nearly panting with the effort of holding back. He needed more. He wanted to pound into her. He wanted to pick up her legs and throw them over his shoulders as he fucked her all the way to oblivion.
But he didn’t do that. Instead, he was gentle. He thrust in and out in careful, rhythmic motions. He felt his climax burning in his sac. He could also feel her climax building around his shaft. She was panting now, moving her hips and meeting him stroke for stroke. Mikhail dared to increase his pace, but made certain not to slap his body against hers. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Tori came suddenly, her facial expression showing her bliss as every muscle in her body shook with little tremors that made her inner muscles quiver around his cock. The tiny motions were enough to send him over the edge. Mikhail let go and felt his seed spurt from the end of his cock. He thrust once more and held it as he felt himself empty into her body. Then he carefully pulled out and rolled to the side.
It was good. It really was. And yet—it had also been strangely hollow. Beside him, he got the oddest sense that Tori felt the same. They were two people thrown together by circumstances, and yet they were entwined in something that neither one of them really knew how to navigate. This was not going to be an easy adjustment. Mikhail already knew that to be true.
Chapter Eight
Tori rolled over in the bed the following morning. Her hand encountered empty space, and she wondered where her husband was. Instead of getting up to look for him, however, she lay in comfortable silence and contemplated the ceiling. It was coffered and beautiful with recessed lighting and even a ceiling fan. Tori had a feeling there were a lot of things in her new home that fell under the heading of “the best that money can buy.”
She considered her husband. He was most certainly the best that money could buy, if she had been nothing more than the daughter of some businessman or regular social tycoon. But Tori wasn’t just a regular sort of girl. She had been born into a mafiya family, and now she’d married a mafiya man.
A super sexy mafiya man.
She couldn’t help but smile a little as she considered that. Sitting up, she discovered she was pleasantly sore, but not as much as she would have expected. She walked into the en suite bathroom and stared into the mirror.
“The sex was good,” she told herself. “So what do you have to complain about?”
The sex had been good. In fact, Tori might have claimed it as the best sex of her life, but then she might also have s
aid she thought it could be better. She wanted it harder, or maybe rougher. Something. She wanted to feel more. She wanted to know that Mikhail was feeling it too. She wanted him to need her so very badly that he wasn’t even sure if he could leave her side for a moment.
“I’m being ridiculous,” she whispered to her reflection. “Mikhail is far too smart to get himself into that sort of situation where he gives his lover that kind of power.”
Tori climbed into the shower. She realized that she hadn’t actually brought any clothes. Then she spotted a tiny overnight bag sitting in the corner of the bathroom. Apparently someone in her father’s household had been kind enough to send that over. It was filled with a few personal items and some comfortable clothing. It was still difficult to believe that she was going to actually need more than that. Yet she was a married woman now. That meant her place was with her husband.
Tori glanced at the rainwater spigot overhead and the natural stone and tile shower that looked better than anything she’d ever seen at her stepfather’s house. Obviously staying in Mikhail’s house wasn’t going to be a particular hardship.
***
“MIKHAIL! COME IN, come in!” Stanislas said eagerly. “I’m so glad to see you this morning. Thank you for responding so quickly to my text even though I know you’re technically on your honeymoon.”
Mikhail immediately hid whatever irritation he might have felt behind a mask of indifference. When he’d gotten the text from Stanislas this morning, he’d sat and thought back over the last five years. Stanislas had never in all that time asked Mikhail to appear before ten o’clock in the morning. Mikhail had a sinking feeling that being Stanislas’s son-in-law was going to come with a high price attached. Setting boundaries wasn’t going to be easy. Especially not when Stanislas had so much to hold over Mikhail’s head.
He thought back to the things that Tori had said about her father. Was this what it was like to be beholden to the man? Mikhail was beginning to understand where some of Tori’s bitterness came from.
“Sit!” Stanislas said as they entered the dining room. “Have you eaten yet? Have some breakfast. The blini is quite good.”
The man sat and began to pile his plate with the rich blini on the table. Mikhail had no choice but to follow suit. He sighed. He would have rather been at home, going through his regular morning routine.
“What was so urgent this morning?” Mikhail prodded, wanting the old man to get to the point.
“I don’t trust the Orlovs.”
Mikhail sat back in his chair, wondering where this was coming from. “We already denied them the percentage of the casino. We’re not in business with them anymore at all. The council is satisfied on that count and has no cause to accuse us of any wrongdoing. Why would we be afraid of the Orlovs now?”
“I don’t trust them,” Stanislas insisted. “They were responsible for my wife’s death, you know.”
“No. I didn’t know.” Mikhail raised his brows. “Does Tori know this?”
“No. And I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself,” Stanislas said firmly. “Tori doesn’t need to know about her mother. It would only complicate matters.”
That was an odd thing to say. If someone had told Mikhail that he didn’t need to know about the details concerning his family member’s death, he would have told them he damn well did. In fact—as Mikhail grimly recalled—he had spent quite a lot of time personally trying to track down the men responsible for murdering his sister and mother. Tori was just brash enough that he might imagine she would have done the same thing.
“Sir, I’m not sure you’re giving Tori the benefit of the doubt. She’s very practical,” Mikhail argued.
“Don’t speak of this again,” Stanislas snapped. “You’re my son now. You will do as I say and keep the best interests of the family always at heart.”
Mikhail felt a growing sense of discontent, but he squelched it for now. “As you wish, Boss.”
***
TORI WANDERED DOWNSTAIRS. She was starving. She had eaten almost nothing the day before, but with the wedding stress behind her, she found she was now famished. There were noises coming from the kitchen, and Tori was reminded that Mikhail had mentioned a housekeeper of some kind. Not that the idea gave her much comfort. Mrs. Tobolovsky had been so mean over the years that Tori was hesitant to ask anything of a household employee for fear of incurring the wrath of the household staff.
“Hello?” Tori said hesitantly, stepping into the kitchen. “Is there someone here?”
“Oh my!” A woman whirled around, putting her hand over her chest. “You gave me a fright! I’d forgotten I wasn’t all alone in here, bless you child.”
The woman wasn’t Russian. That fact alone made Tori completely uncertain of how to act. The lady appeared to be in her late fifties with a plump, matronly build and white hair pulled back into a messy knot at the back of her head. Her hands were covered in flour, and she was kneading some sort of bread dough. The yeasty smell of baking bread filled the kitchen, and there was flour all over the center island. The entire scene was so picturesque and inviting that Tori felt a pang of loss for the mother she’d never really known. Would she and her mother have sat around in the kitchen and gossiped together? Had her mother even liked to cook or bake? Tori knew absolutely nothing. Why had she never really thought of that before?
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost too, my dear.” The woman gestured to one of the stools tucked beneath the island. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you some breakfast and we can get better acquainted now that you’re the lady of the house.”
Tori certainly had no answer to that. Did she even consider herself the lady of the house? Not really. She felt more like an unwanted interloper, but maybe that was mostly because she hadn’t come willingly. Deciding she had nothing to lose, Tori sat and put her elbows up on the smooth marble countertop.
“Are you hungry?” The housekeeper cocked her head to one side. “I have some fresh buns just out of the oven. They’re filled with nuts and fruit. Mr. Mikhail loves them. He’ll eat the whole batch if you don’t watch out for him.”
“He will?” Tori drank in this mundane bit of information about her new husband. Somehow it humanized him.
“Bless me, I didn’t even introduce myself!” The woman looked chagrined. “I’m Mrs. O’Connell.”
“I’m Tori.” Tori picked up the thick roll that Mrs. O’Connell set in front of her. It smelled incredible. The bread was soft and fluffy, and it was filled with dates, nuts, and raisins. She made a low noise of appreciation as she chewed the yummy treat. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Mr. Mikhail doesn’t actually like that traditional Russian food they serve in all the other Bratva houses,” Mrs. O’Connell said conspiratorially. “That’s why he hired me to do his cooking when he moved in here a good ten years ago.”
“You’ve worked for him for that long?” Tori was amazed. She knew that Tobolovsky had been with her father since before Tori and her mother had come to live with Stanislas, but that was unusual. Generally a housekeeper only stayed with a family as long as she was indebted to the boss. Then she moved on.
“Oh yes!” The woman smacked the bread dough down onto the counter. “Oh my, girl, the stories I could tell you!”
“I’ve love to hear them,” Tori said eagerly. This was going to be good. Very good.
***
MIKHAIL ENTERED HIS home with a sense of relief. Dealing with Stanislas on a normal day was tiring. Dealing with him today had somehow been much worse. The sense of obligation was profound. And Stanislas was feeling particularly disagreeable for some reason. Everything had taken longer than expected, and now Mikhail was obligated to go to a meeting with the Orlovs that evening, which would no doubt end badly.
There were feminine voices in the kitchen. Mikhail tried to make no noise in the hallway as he headed in that direction. He’d known that Mrs. O’Connell would take to Tori right away. She loved
to mother people, and Tori certainly needed mothering. Yet Mikhail wasn’t prepared for how it would feel to see those two sitting at the counter with their heads together as Mrs. O’Connell told stories about Mikhail.
“So do you believe he’s a faithful sort of man?” Tori asked suddenly.
Mrs. O’Connell made a tsking noise. “Oh child, I absolutely believe that! He has such a good heart.”
“I hope so.” Tori gave a sigh. “This marriage wasn’t exactly what either of us wanted, at least I don’t think he wanted it, but we didn’t really have a choice with my father pulling all the strings.”
“Your father is a very strong and stubborn man,” the housekeeper agreed. “Now will you hand me that rolling pin? I think this dough is just about perfect for rolling.”
“And what are we making?” Tori asked, peering curiously at the lump of dough on the island.
Mikhail left before Mrs. O’Connell could answer. He went straight down the hallway to his study and let himself into the room. Sitting at his desk, he brooded for several moments over this new wife he didn’t quite know what to make of. She wasn’t what he’d expected. He wasn’t even sure she was what he wanted. He needed a smart but biddable woman who wouldn’t ask a bunch of questions. What he’d married was a hellcat with a stubborn streak a mile wide who had more issues than he did. What was he supposed to make of that? More importantly, what did Stanislas intend by saddling Mikhail with such an independent and difficult woman?
Chapter Nine
Two weeks, no, it had been three weeks since her marriage to Mikhail, and Tori was bored out of her mind. The man worked all the time. In fact, he was almost never home. And when he did come home, it was to eat, shower, and then go back to work. Occasionally he slept, but that was usually in his study on the couch.
Tori wandered through the upstairs hallway. There were only two suites on the fourth floor, the master bedroom and bath, and something that Tori suspected was intended to be a nursery. She meandered through the empty rooms. This house was horribly lonely. Had Mikhail been living here all by himself for ten years? He was either the most unsociable person on the planet, or he was just sad. She couldn’t decide which; after all, she barely knew the man.