Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

22. Ginny

22

GINNY

I wake slowly, consciousness creeping in like a gentle tide. The first thing I notice is warmth—not just from the sunlight streaming through the windows, but from the solid body pressed against mine. My eyes flutter open, and I'm met with Ivan's intense gaze.

"Morning," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"You're still here," I breathe, surprise coloring my tone.

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Took the day off."

I blink, processing this information. Ivan never takes days off. The Bratva is his life, his purpose. Or at least, it used to be.

I try not to let my heart run away with that information.

His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer. I melt into him, relishing the feel of his skin against mine. It's strange how natural this feels, how right. Just a few months ago, I couldn't stand the sight of him. Now, I can't imagine starting my day any other way.

"What are you thinking?" Ivan asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

I look up at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face, softened slightly by the morning light. "That I'm happy," I admit. "That I want to wake up like this every day."

Something flashes in Ivan's eyes—surprise, maybe even vulnerability. It's gone in an instant, replaced by that familiar intensity. "Good," he says gruffly. "Because you're not getting up yet."

I laugh softly. "Still a bossy asshole, I see."

"You wouldn't want me any other way," he retorts, and I can't argue with that.

As I lie here, wrapped in Ivan's arms, I'm struck by how much has changed. The arranged marriage that felt like a death sentence has become the greatest gift of my life. Ivan may be rough around the edges, dangerous even, but he's mine. And I'm his.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really, truly happy I married Ivan Kozlov.

We lay in bed for another hour — in which Ivan makes me cry out his name a countless number of times — before he drags me into the shower. He fucks me in there, too, but we finally manage to dress before noon.

I don't want to stay cooped up in the house so I drag Ivan outside. He has a great piece of land with small trails cutting through a forested area. Ivan's hand finds mine as we stroll down the path, his thumb tracing circles on my skin.

It's such a simple gesture, but it sends heat pooling in my stomach. I glance up at him, catching the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"What?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I shake my head, grinning. "Nothing. Just... this is nice." The words shouldn't be so scary to say, but I'm not sure where we stand with each other.

He grunts in response, but I see the way his eyes soften. We walk in comfortable silence for a while, the sun warm on our faces. Suddenly, Ivan stops, tugging me gently towards a nearby rosebush.

"Virginia," he says, his voice low and serious. "Look at this."

I lean in, curious. "What am I looking at?"

Quick as lightning, he plucks a petal and boops my nose with it. I gasp, more from surprise than anything else, and he actually chuckles. The sound is rich and warm, like honey.

"You should see your face," he smirks.

I swat his arm playfully. "You're such a jerk."

"Mm, but I'm your jerk," he replies, pulling me close.

As we continue our walk, I'm struck by how different Ivan is when we're alone. The hard edges have softened, the constant vigilance eases. He's still Ivan—strong, intense, dangerous when he needs to be—but there's a lightness to him I never expected.

Back inside, I head to the kitchen for a snack. Ivan follows, leaning against the counter as I rummage through the fridge.

"You know," he says casually, "I could order something."

I turn, an apple in hand. "I can manage an apple, Ivan."

He shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just making sure. Wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help smiling. This playful banter, the easy back-and-forth—it's become my favorite part of being with him.

As I bite into the apple, Ivan's gaze intensifies. He moves closer, his hand coming up to brush a stray curl from my face as some of the juice dribbles down my chin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

My heart races as he leans in, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that steals my breath. I have to wonder if I'll ever stop feeling this way around him. Even when I was 16 I felt the magnetism that pulls me in now, but I never could have expected it to turn out this way.

"I think I have some idea," I whisper back, and his answering grin is everything. I can't stop myself as I reach up and touch him, marveling at how handsome he is.

"What do you want to do today?" he asks me softly, though the heat in his eyes tells me he already has a plan in mind.

I grin. "Let me show you what I do every day."

Within ten minutes, I've dragged us outside, clad in my skimpiest bikini so far. Ivan's eyes nearly bugged out of my head, his hands tracing along my dark skin.

I stretch out on the lounge chair, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. The sound of water lapping against the pool's edge is soothing, almost hypnotic. I glance over at Ivan, sprawled on the chair next to mine, his eyes closed and face relaxed.

It's still a bit surreal to see him like this—guard down. I know he's still aware, I don't think he's ever been completely at ease, but I still like to see him this way.

"You're staring," he says without opening his eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

I feel heat creep up my neck, and it's not from the sun. "Am not," I mutter, even though we both know it's a lie.

He cracks one eye open, fixing me with that intense gaze. "Liar."

I stick my tongue out at him, feeling childish but not caring. "Maybe I just like the view."

Ivan snorts, but I catch the pleased look that flashes across his face. "Careful, Virginia. Keep talking like that and we might not make it back inside."

A thrill runs through me at his words, but I play it cool. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

He sits up, leaning towards me with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

My heart races, but I hold my ground. "Nuh-uh. You come to me if you want me so bad."

Ivan narrows his eyes, clearly not used to being challenged. For a moment, I wonder if I've pushed too far. But then he stands, closing the distance between us in two long strides.

He looms over me, all raw power and barely contained energy. I used to find this intimidating, but now? Now it just makes me want him more.

"You're playing a dangerous game, malyshka," he growls.

I grin up at him, feeling bold. "Good thing I like danger."

In one swift move, he scoops me up from the chair. I yelp in surprise, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Ivan! What are you?—"

My question is cut short as he jumps into the pool, taking me with him. We hit the water with a splash, and I come up sputtering and laughing.

"You jerk!" I exclaim, splashing water at his face.

He grins, looking more carefree than I've ever seen him. "You wanted me to come get you."

I can't help but laugh, shaking my head. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Ivan swims closer, pulling me against him. "No? What did you have in mind then?"

As his lips meet mine, I marvel at how safe I feel in his arms. The man I once thought of as my jailer has become my protector, my confidant, my home. It's not perfect—we still clash, still have our rough edges—but I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

Ivan's fingers tug on the ties of my bikini top, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "These damn things," he mutters, as he undoes them. "They are going to be the death of me."

A thrill shoots through me at how gruff his words are. I've been teasing him with them, and I'm glad it doesn't go unnoticed. Finally, the fabric gives way, and his calloused palms claim my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they harden under his touch.

I arch into him, a gasp escaping my lips as he leans down, taking one peak into his mouth. He bites and sucks, each pull of his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. I rock against him, seeking friction, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders, nails digging into his smooth skin.

Reaching down, I slip my hand inside his trunks, wrapping my fingers around his hard length. He groans, a deep sound that vibrates through his chest, his eyes flashing with hunger. I stroke him, marveling at the silken heat, the rigid pulse beneath my touch.

Ivan's hands move to my bottoms, untying them with quick, efficient movements. He shoves his trunks down just enough to free himself, then grips my hips, lifting me effortlessly. I wrap my legs around his waist as he drives up into me, filling me completely.

"Ivan," I moan, clinging to his shoulders, my forehead pressed against his. He starts to move, each thrust deep and powerful, claiming me, possessing me. The water laps around us, amplifying every sensation, every point of contact between our bodies.

I meet his thrusts, grinding against him, my breath coming in ragged pants. His fingers dig into my flesh, holding me tightly, as if he can't get close enough, can't get enough of me. The thought sends a surge of heat through me, and I clench around him, drawing a groan from deep within his chest.

"Fuck, Virginia," he growls, his voice low and rough. "You feel so fucking good."

His words push me higher, and I ride him faster, chasing the building pressure. Our bodies move in sync, each driving the other towards the edge. His mouth finds mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue thrusting in the same rhythm as his body.

The tension coils tighter, and I'm hovering on the brink, every nerve ending alight with sensation. Ivan's grip tightens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.

"Come with me, malyshka," he demands, his voice hoarse with need.

And I do. I tumble over the edge, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crash through me. Ivan follows, his body stiffening, a low groan tearing from his throat as he finds his release.

We cling to each other, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in unison. I hold onto him tightly, knowing in this moment that it's too late for me.

I'm in love with Ivan, completely and utterly. And as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close, I hope with all my heart that he feels the same way. That he won't break me, won't shatter the fragile bond we've formed. Because I don't think I could bear it if he did.