"Now tell me you belong to me, Rahina. I want to hear you say it.”
The anger from her threats earlier still burned like a forest fire in his eyes. He wanted her to submit, to remind him and herself that she was only his. Rahina relaxed against the pillow and gave him a cool, shuttered look. "No."
Roman’s eyes gleamed with dangerous warning. “Rahina," he warned.
"No," she repeated, shaking her head in refusal. She could feel his body tense in anger, and she knew by the look on his hardening face he was angry, but so was she. Grabbing his face, much like he did to her earlier, she held it steady between her hands and let her thumbs gently trace along the bottom of his lip. "I don’t want it to be like this. You can’t have all the power between us. Nothing good will come of it, Roman." She could see him attempting to speak, but she cut him off. "I love you, Roman," she blurted out, not giving herself time to think and chicken out. Ignoring his sudden stillness over her, she continued. “I know that this may be too soon or maybe not what you want to hear, but I love laughing with you, arguing with you, even being silent with you." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she confessed. “I loved you the moment I saw you, but I can't be with you if you can’t share your love and your power back with me."
Opening his mouth to speak, a lance of alarm sliced through her chest and she pressed her lips quickly to his cutting whatever he was going to say off.
“Please,” she sniffed, placing another small kiss to his lips. “Don’t say it back if you don’t mean it, I just wanted you to know how I felt. I wanted you to know what I need.”
Probably for the first time since she has known him, Roman said nothing, he simply nodded and kissed her back. A kiss that started slow and soft, coaxing her tongue along with his building an intolerable heat in her body until she was squirming restlessly against him. Pushing his big body up with a press of his arms, Roman lifted and hovered himself over her body moving gracefully down to lower himself with ease to place stinging hot kisses to her body before lifting and moving, starting the process all over again. After minutes that felt like hours, he was laying between her legs slowly licking and teasing her swollen flesh as she cried out, holding his head between her legs. Sitting up and crossing his legs on the bed, he reached for her easily picking her up and placing her down to straddle him. With his hands on her hips, he urged her to slowly ride his cock, whispering hot words into her ear as the storm thundered around them. Sometime after the echo of her screams faded away, and his seed filled her womb for the second time, they lay slowly catching their breath among the tangled sheets.
Facing the rain streaked window, she stared out as he pulled himself close behind her, spooning her body with his.
“I do not own you Rahina,” his voice sounded resigned. “But it seems you own me.”
Chapter 22
For the past three nights after the incident at her parents’ house, Rahina had gotten up from their bed hours after they had fallen asleep and not returned until a couple of hours later. Tonight, was no different.
Feeling the bed shift slightly, Roman awakened but kept his eyes shut as he listened to the graceful dancer leave the bed. When she wanted to be, she could be very silent, he mentally noted. Normally, her attempts at stealth were comical at best, but now as he listened to the nearly inaudible sounds of her toes hitting the carpet and the change in pressure in the air as the bedroom door opened and closed, Roman realized his lithe dancer was holding back on a secret skill. The first night, she left the bed he had no clue how long she had been gone when he reached for her in the middle of the night and discovered her absent. It only took minutes for him to find her in the gym along with Hannibal and Genghis who were sleeping diligently by the door. Days before, he and Mosca had taken the time to rearrange the large gym and compacted the workout equipment, allowing for one half of the open room to be used as a dancer’s space. Mirrors and a barre were installed in secrecy while she was out of the house. Each time he brought the memory of her reaction to the redesigned space to the forefront of his mind, his body warmed. He expected excitement and happiness, he received tears and long passionate kisses that led them to the floor in a hot, slightly uncomfortable, embrace.
Rahina loved him.
He suspected it before her confession, watching her eyes fill with the brimming emotion each time he filled her body. But he knew it as a fact now. Ever since the night of their argument and her admission of love, she was uninhibited by fear, letting herself go completely in his arms as she repeated her whispers of love for him in his ear.
Nothing in this world would ever compare to the spine tingling, feeling he felt when he heard her say the words to him. Everything in him reacted to the foreign statement, his balls immediately tightening and his breath coming out shorter and ragged. This is what others got to feel every day, an emotion he had often regarded as fantasy and contrived. But here he was, watching a woman only God himself could have created for him, dancing with such silent and effortless skill within his reach—and she was all his.
Unlike the previous nights as he watched her from the shadows of the open doorway as she practiced, he stepped into the light of the room. Sensing his presence immediately, Rahina stopped and turned to him; her labored breathing, pressing her breasts against the restraint of her dark green leotard.
Roman ignored her look of surprise and focused on the strained lines on her forehead. Although she tried to fake it since that night, he knew she was still hurting.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, referring to the opening performance at the end of the week.
“No,” she twirled on the ball of one foot. “If anything, I am excited. I’m just working out a few kinks on one of my solos.” With quick weightless steps, she approached him with both hands out. “Dance with me.”
Roman paused in surprise at the request. When he woke up, he was naked, he had only thrown on a pair of loose gray lounge pants to come find her and nothing else. Gesturing to his bare torso and pants, he gave her a smirk. "I do not think I am dressed for it, sweetheart.”
“You’re perfect,” she whispered, stepping up to him and grabbing both of his hands. He chuckled to himself as he caught the way her eyes skimmed hungrily over his exposed form.
Letting her pull him to the middle of the floor, he thought briefly of his life before this moment. Images of the informant he took his rage out on and shoving his head through a window months ago surfaced. Or the multitude of secrets he collected over the years that facilitated their owners’ and many others’ downfall. He didn’t deserve this, Roman thought not for the first time as she directed him to hold her hips, her feet beginning to move to the music. This right here, this moment, her beautiful smile all of this should belong to a better man—not him. Lifting her as she instructed, Roman could feel himself smile at her giggling laughter at their slow attempt of her rehearsal. Fuck if all that mattered though! He didn’t care whether he deserved her or not, she was his now, and there was no turning back.
Gently catching her extended leg with one hand, he braced her arching back with his other hand and let his eyes trace the graceful bend in her body as her head nearly touched the back of her supporting calf. Gliding back up to standing, she slowly let her other leg fall back to the floor.
“You will need to forgive them eventually,” he stated softly, knowing she knew what he was referring to.
The smile faded from her lips, and her brows furrowed together. Roman kept his grip on her waist deceptively loose, both of them knowing he would not let her leave if she decided to walk away from this conversation. It had been days now since the ordeal at her parents’ house, he had given her plenty of time to come to terms with this on her own. It was now time for a little prodding.
“I am not ready,” Rahina answered in a near pout, staring at the mirror over his shoulder.
Pulling her close, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo as he slowly felt some of the tension in her ebb away. “Pride is never ready.”
�
��I can’t,” her voice trembled near his ear, threatening to break as she sagged in his arms. “They ambushed me, they…they were trying to force me to Dev!” she exclaimed.
Holding her steady, he gave her a firm look. “And you and I both know that would have never happened. Your mother was simply desperate.”
Visibly annoyed with him now, she tried to pull herself from the grasp. “But Riaz and Rubina just stood there as…”
“As she was blindsided as well,” he finished for her. “Tell me gorgeous, are you really enjoying this rift between you and your family?”
Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes. “You know I’m not.”
Deciding it was time to confess, Roman sighed and gave her a level look. “Your sister has driven by my dealership four times this week; I have had reports of your father and Riaz asking the doorman in your building of your whereabouts. And your mother, with the help of Amit, has obtained my office phone number and has attempted to speak to me no less than ten times.”
Shock from the news thankfully kept the tears at bay. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Because I wanted to give you time,” he answered gently, watching the emotions play out on her face.
After a few minutes of silence, she spoke again in a reluctant tone. “I’m still angry with them…but I will call them…later.” Good, Roman thought selfishly, he wasn’t sure how long he was able to politely decline her mother’s calls any longer. Tilting her head up and leaning her chin on his chest, Rahina gave him a wide-eyed stare. “I love you.”
Smirking, he bent down and scooped her high into his arms. Practice was over as far as he was concerned. Whispering the words, she could not understand in her ear, he walked with her back to their room.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you keep saying?” she groused as she nuzzled his neck.
“How about, I show you?”
~*~
Misha smiled up at his arrival as Roman sat down next to her in the theater's private booth. Sitting to her right was her husband, Mikhail, and next to him, Christelle and Alexei. Unlike the other crammed seats in the theater, Roman had bought out all the seats in their booth giving them and their men plenty of space. Two of his and Mikhail’s men guarded the inside and outside of the curtained entry doorway while the remainder of the seats were either left empty or taken up by Mosca, Sergei, and a few of Mikhail’s men.
Every seat below them was filled to capacity with overeager, formally dressed attendees.
Misha turned to him, speaking over the din of noise. "I have a feeling it's going to be sad, so I brought tissue," she held up a dainty pack of pink and blue tissues with an angelic smile.
Giving her a slow mischievous smile, he resisted the urge to chuckle when he felt her stiffen in response to his smile. Above her head, Roman could see Mikhail’s simultaneous narrowed gaze on him as he stared down at the man’s pregnant wife. “That’s very kind of you Misha,” Roman spoke deeply in Russian, knowing Misha could understand him perfectly. “Ever since you were a little, little girl,” he added an extra little just to goad Mikhail, “you’ve always been so sweet and kind.”
"I have no qualms shooting you…" Mikhail began but was hushed by Misha.
“You two, stop,” she whispered in their language with the cutest Boston accent underneath. “The lights are dimming, now be quiet!”
Nodding at her command, Roman gave Mikhail one last glance and nearly laughed at the man’s refusal to look at him. The hard set of the man’s jaw was indication enough his tiny barb had gotten under his skin just like it always did. He swore tormenting Alexei and Mikhail about their too-young wives just never got old.
The lights around the theater dimmed lower and a spotlight activated over the heavy red curtain. The performance was starting.
Playful notes from the orchestra drifted through the suddenly quieted theater as the curtain rose to reveal an empty royal throne room with a large marble statue of a woman reaching for the sky, bearing a crescent moon on her head. In the throne room, three young women carrying the same moon insignias emblazoned on their chests ran around the room unchaperoned with sneaky smiles and laughter. Playing with the regal suits of armor the girls danced before the empty throne in time to the lively notes of music. Looking to the left of the stage, the girls cupped their mouths and mimed a whispered call to another, not yet seen by the audience.
Poking her head out from behind a suit of armor Rahina, the moon maiden, who wore a silver crescent moon on her forehead, scared the girls from her secret location. Immediately the chords of music changed to bolder notes as the moon maiden boldly led the other girls in mischievous fun. To the girls’ horror, she danced and pranced close to the throne, alarming the girls with the threat of sitting in the honored seat. The music rose each time she attempted the transgression and fell when she laughed and stepped back. With a final taunting fluttering dance to the girls, Rahina crossed her arms and lifted her chin in defiance and sat with a plop on top of the throne.
Deep thundering notes that boomed in response from the percussion section. Scattering away, the girls left their deviant friend behind on the throne where she sat just as a line of guards stomped in escorting the Prince. Jason Davies was almost unrecognizable for a moment, Roman noted. Standing tall and foreboding, he stared at Rahina's frightened face with a look of superior command. With his normally brown hair dyed black and slicked back, Jason dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand and stepped forward, leaving him alone with the unruly girl.
Their dance was one of opposing views, Rahina skirted and skipped around the Prince as he tried to get her to behave. Giving him a stubborn look, she danced in defiance around the throne room. Quickly, the scenes changed as well as the seasons, and the Prince and the girl’s love-hate relationship changed to one of growing affection. In each scene, there was always the presence of the Moon Kingdom's marble statue of the woman with a moon on her forehead, reaching up to the stars. A statue that the citizens paid homage to and danced around often.
With the arrival of act two, the Prince and the girl’s blossoming love was suddenly challenged by the arrival of a faraway pirate Prince to the Moon Kingdom’s court. Yuri Gosev’s arrival to the stage emitted small, high-pitched sounds from seemingly every female in the audience, including Misha. Roman only wished he could have taken a photo of Mikhail’s deep scowl at his wife’s adoration for the Russian dancer. With his normally brown hair bleached blonde and dressed in a sparkling gray top and black tights, Yuri enchanted Rahina with his reckless attitude and bold movements. Pulling her further into his world and farther away from the moon Prince and his kingdom, the Pirate Prince and the moon maiden lit up the stage. Though the Prince tried to keep her away, the girl kept finding her way back to the forbidden pirate Prince.
Together when they danced everything around them faded into gray mist, the images of the Moon Kingdom becoming a far-off memory with only the faint gleam of the ever-present statue glittering in the distance. Rahina’s jumps became higher than Roman had ever seen as she danced her new found excitement and joy for the pirate Prince’s presence. Together they laughed and danced, synchronizing perfectly as they performed complicated aerial moves. Excited gasp peppered the audience as Rahina leapt in the air and reached both hands back and touched her extended back foot before landing with graceful quick silence. With a beautiful solo, the pirate Prince extended his hand to the daring moon maiden asking her to run away with him. Not ready to give him an answer just yet, she kissed the Prince and ran back to home to think of her response.
But during her absence, the people of the Moon Kingdom suffered. Everyone’s skin, including the Prince’s, was becoming pale. Gone was the lively jaunty music that they danced to in the square, the now sullen deep notes of music matched their movements as they expressed their pain and longing. Seeing that she had returned, the Moon Kingdom’s Prince grabbed her by the shoulders begging her to stay, pointing to their people and begged her to remember their love as the
song they danced to earlier replayed around them. But the maiden refused; and just as he called the guards to lock her away, the pirate Prince stormed in. The Princes battled but the moon Prince, who was much paler now, lost. Taking her hand, the pirate Prince guided the reluctant moon maiden, who stared back at her fallen pale Prince in sadness as she was led away.
The scenery changed to that of a ship preparing to depart, and just like the moon Prince, the pirate Prince sensing the moon maiden’s heavy heart danced the same dance he enchanted her with the first time they met. Realizing she was abandoning her people; the moon maiden ran back to her kingdom and away from the man she loved only to find her people all frozen in place where she left them—all of them as statues. Crying she danced a slow dance of agony in front of the ever-present statue, the sad, mournful notes beginning to pick up as her movements became faster and stronger before the statue until suddenly the statue glowed. With everyone else on stage fading into the blackness, it left only the moon maiden and the glowing statue as she danced tribute to the statue of the moon. The lights went out, leaving the stage black for a moment before the statue suddenly pulsed blue, and the spotlight came on with an audible snap to the quiet air around them. Center stage dressed in the sparkling crystal outfit on all the posters for the performance, Rahina danced her complicated solo. The fast spinning movement and quick footwork moving even faster than the rapidly rising crescendo of the music until she was performing a continuous, non-stop pirouette.
With a clash of the cymbals the lights went out and where she stood exploded in glittering sparkles that slowly trickled to the ground. With the lights still off and the theater nearly pitch black a glittering blue holographic image appeared. Misha grabbed Roman’s hand and gasped along with everyone else in the audience as a huge holographic version of Rahina stood nearly to the ceiling of the theater, continuing her dizzying pirouette. The audience clapped and went wild for a moment, seemingly forgetting the story. But Roman didn't, he watched and waited as the lights slowly came back on, and the holograph and heart-pounding music faded leaving a stage of the fully restored Moon Kingdom’s inhabitants, a fallen moon maiden clutched in the Prince's arms and the statue that now looked just like Rahina.
His Smile: A Mafia Romance Page 27