Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

15. Ivan

15

IVAN

I smell like my wife. Her vanilla scent is the first thing I think of when I wake up, and I briefly wish I had brought her to my bed. But we've been doing well, learning how to make this friendly and not at each other's throats. I didn't want to upset that balance.

I like the kind of progress we've been making, but I won't let myself acknowledge it more than that. Won't let myself look at it too closely.

I still can’t get over the way that malyshka rolled off my tongue, either. The Russian endearment took me by surprise, but she didn’t seem to mind it.

I've never liked someone in my space, never wanted anyone in my personal affairs. And yet, I've let her deep under my skin and I don't think I want her out. She softens my edges, and I have come to really enjoy it. I don't change who I am when I'm with her, don't turn off all the dark and ugly pieces of me, but I don't have to.

It's like she's a ray of sunshine that accepts me for all of it.

And I never realized that that was something I would want until she selflessly gave it to me.

I descend the stairs, my mind preoccupied with Bratva business and thoughts of my wife, when I catch sight of Virginia. My breath catches in my throat. She's wearing shorts that hug her curves like a second skin and a crop top that leaves little to the imagination. Fuck.

I have to use every ounce of self control, and a little shifting, so she doesn't see the raging hard on I get in a second. But then I realize that she doesn't dress like that at home. And there is absolutely no fucking way I'm let anyone else see her looking that damn good.

I'm second away from stripping her down myself.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" The words come out harsher than I intend, but I can't help it. I'm already envisioning so much blood at the thought of another man even looking in her direction.

Virginia jumps, clearly startled by my tone. "I-I was just going to the store," she stammers, her eyes wide. She's taken up baking, which I'm not complaining about, but lately, I've been going with her to the store.

"Dressed like that?" I snarl, gesturing at her outfit. "Like hell you are."

Her surprise quickly morphs into anger. "What's wrong with how I'm dressed? It's hot outside!"

"It's not appropriate," I snap back. "You're my wife now. You can't just prance around half-naked."

"Half-naked?" Virginia’s voice rises. "It's a normal outfit, Ivan. And since when do you care what I wear?"

"Since always," I growl, stepping closer. "You represent me now. The Bratva. You can't look like some?—"

"Some what?" She challenges, her eyes flashing. "Say it, Ivan. I dare you."

I clench my jaw, refusing to finish that sentence. But God, she's magnificent when she's angry. Her eyes bright, her chest heaving with each breath. I find myself mesmerized by the fierceness coming off of her.

"You don't own me," Virginia hisses. "I'm not some doll you can dress up and put away when you're done playing."

"No," I agree, my voice low and more for myself than her. "You're far more dangerous than that."

We're standing toe-to-toe now, the air between us crackling with tension. When did I start finding her defiance so damn attractive? I want to shake her, to make her understand the danger she's in. But another part of me, a part I've been trying to ignore, wants to pull her close and claim those full, pouty lips.

"I'm going to the store," Virginia declares, chin lifted in defiance. "With or without your permission."

I grit my teeth, torn between admiration and frustration. "Fine," I growl. "But you're not going alone. And you're changing first."

Truthfully, I'd rather keep her locked up here. The last time she left someone targeted her — because of me. And the idea that the assholes are still out there, that they might try it again, has me on edge.

My anger is a living thing writhing under my skin, and it lashes it out at the wrong person. Something that I have never had an issue with before I met Virginia.

I find myself moving closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull of Virginia's defiance. Her eyes flash with anger, her chest heaving with each breath. The sight of her like this, all fire and passion, ignites something primal within me.

Virginia tilts her chin up, meeting my gaze without flinching. "I'm not changing."

She turns to leave, but I'm faster. My hand shoots out, gripping her arm and pulling her back. She collides with my chest, her warmth seeping through my shirt. The scent of vanilla envelops me, clouding my senses.

"Let go of me," she hisses, but doesn't pull away.

I lean in close, my lips barely grazing her ear. "Make me."

Virginia shivers, and I feel it run through her entire body. Her breath hitches, and I know she feels this too - this electric current running between us.

"Ivan," she whispers, her voice a mix of warning and want.

I pull back slightly, my eyes locking with hers. The anger is still there, but it's mixed with something else now. Something that makes her pupils dilate and her lips part.

"You will do what I tell you or you won't leave," I murmur darkly, my free hand coming up to grip her jaw harshly.

She leans into my touch, almost unconsciously. I drag my thumb across her lip, marveling at the softness of her skin. I shouldn't have done it because my cock jumps against my stomach at the feel of it.

The tension between us is a living thing, crackling in the air. I want to devour her, to claim every inch of her. I have never wanted to fuck the brat out of someone, to take their anger and punish them until they are my obedient little girl again.

But I do with this woman.

Virginia's tongue darts out, wetting her lips. My eyes track the movement, and suddenly, I can't hold back anymore.

I crash my lips against hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. She stiffens for a moment, then melts into me, her hands fisting in my shirt.

The taste of her explodes on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating. I've imagined this moment more times than I care to admit, but nothing compares to the reality.

My hand glides down her body, feeling every inch of her. The curves I've tried so hard to ignore now fit perfectly in my palm. I know I'm losing control, crossing a line I swore I never would. But with Virginia pressed against me, responding to my every touch, I can't bring myself to care.

She's pushed me too far, challenged me at every turn. And now, as she pulls me closer, I know I can't hold back anymore. I need more of her, all of her.

I push my tongue past her lips, deepening the kiss. Virginia meets me eagerly, her own tongue tangling with mine. I love the way she submits to me, lets me have all of her.

Because she is fucking mine .

My fingers tangle in her hair, angling her head to give me better access. I explore every inch of her mouth, memorizing the taste, the feel of her. It's not enough. It will never be enough.

Virginia's nails rake down my back, even through my shirt, and the pain only fuels my desire. I push her against the wall, pinning her with my body. She grinds up into me, and the lust pounding through me threatens to take hold.

I slide my hand down her wait to her hip. My fingers inch to drape her leg over me, to open her up and bare to me so that I can bury myself in that sweet little pussy.

I pour all my pent-up frustration and desire into the kiss. Virginia matches my intensity, giving as good as she gets. Her defiance, her fire - it drives me wild. I want to consume her, to make her mine in every way possible.

I freeze as Virginia's moan pierces through my haze of lust. It rips from her throat as she tips her head back, breaking away from her kiss.

The sound jolts me back to reality, and suddenly, I'm acutely aware of what we're doing. Of what I'm doing. Oh. Shit.

She pushes against my chest, and I step back immediately. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. Virginia looks just as affected, her lips swollen from our kiss, her eyes wide with a mix of desire and confusion.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. The air between us is thick with tension and unspoken words. I can still taste her on my lips, feel the phantom press of her body against mine. It takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her back into my arms.

But I can't. I won't.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I never meant to lose control like that. Virginia was just supposed to be a political marriage, a necessary alliance. Nothing more. I wasn't supposed to want her like this, to feel this overwhelming need to possess her completely.

The depth of my feelings terrifies me. I've never let anyone get this close, never allowed myself to be this vulnerable. And now, looking at Virginia's bright eyes and tousled hair, I realize just how dangerous this situation has become.

I can't deal with this. I don't know how.

Without a word, I turn on my heel and storm out of the room. I hear Virginia call my name, her voice laced with confusion and anger. But I don't stop. I can't face her right now, can't trust myself to be near her without giving in to this maddening desire again.

As I stride out of my house, my mind races. What the hell just happened? How did I let things get so out of hand?

And more importantly, what am I going to do now?