Page 132 of Ivory Ashes

“These were the men who kidnapped you,” Mikhail explains calmly. As if he’s describing a painting in an art gallery instead of the contents of an active torture chamber. “They worked for a small-time drug lord and made their money targeting the children of wealthy families. They built their fortunes ransoming little kids like you back to their families. And now, they are all dead.”

Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, but I can’t move. Can’t breathe.

“Raoul and Anatoly found them while we were gone,” he explains. “I didn’t want you or Dante to be in danger if they were part of a larger organization and decided to come back to finish what they started. But they were nobodies. Monsters who preyed on little kids to pay their bills. They deserved what they got.”

“This is the gift,” I breathe. “You… You tracked down the men who kidnapped me.”

I should be horrified. I should be disgusted and repulsed. Mikhail tortured people and called it a gift. He had men killed and then presented them to me like a present.

“You and I are married, Viviana. We are family now.” Mikhail turns my stiff body towards himself, his warm hand stroking down my arm. “Which is why I’m going to look out for you.”

Mikhail found out something bothered me and he took care of it. I had a problem; he fixed it.

It’s bizarre and bloody and horrifying… but it’s him.

It’s us.

I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

After a beat of hesitation, Mikhail hauls me against his body. He crushes his mouth to mine and carries me up the stairs to his bedroom.

47

VIVIANA

Mikhail’s room is dark, but silvery moonlight streams through the open window. Shafts of it slice across the bed as he lays me back and kisses my neck.

He nibbles down my jaw and my collarbone. When clothes get in the way, we toss them off and find each other again.

It’s been days of this. Days of kissing and touching and fucking until we were exhausted. But this time feels different. This isn’t Vacation Mikhail. We aren’t in some borrowed room with the sound of tropical bird calls and the ocean just outside the window.

This is real life—which makes it so much better.

“I can’t believe you did that for me,” I pant, kissing his neck and shoulders while I try to catch my breath.

Mikhail slips down my body, his stubbled face scraping over my chest and my ribs. He kisses every inch of me, swirling his tongue across my stomach and toying at my hips with his teeth. I throw my arms over my head, crying out when he jerks my panties down and drags his tongue across my slit.

Ten minutes ago, I thought the best-case scenario involved a divorce and a custody agreement. Now, I’m gripping my husband’s hair and riding his face to the world’s fastest orgasm.

“This can’t be real,” I moan, exploding on his mouth.

I’m still pulsing, desperate for something to contract around, when Mikhail presses himself to my pussy and slides in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re still coming.”

He pumps into me, drawing out the pleasure until I think I’m going to scream. I scrape my nails through his hair and hold him to me. “I never want this to stop.”

I’m talking about him being inside of me, but it’s layered. I don’t want the sex to end, because, well, like, obviously—but I also want to stay married to him. I want to live in this house with Mikhail and Dante. I want to eat meals together and talk about our days.

I want Mikhail to be the person I fall asleep next to. The first face I see when I wake up.

“I always want to touch you.” He sucks my nipple into his mouth, flicking the pebbled point with his tongue. “I think about it all the fucking time.”

I grab his face and pull his mouth to mine.

Our lips crash together with bruising force, but that’s okay, because I need this to hurt. I need to keep our lips sealed together. If I don’t, I’ll tell him the truth. I’ll utter the three scariest words I’ve ever thought, let alone said. And I can’t do that.

Not when I have no idea how he’ll feel about me in the morning. Not when he doesn’t know the whole truth of how I escaped from my father and kept Dante hidden.

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