Page 125 of Ivory Oath

I brace myself for everything I deserve. Mikhail was right: when it comes to fighting him, I’m always the one who will end up hurt. It’s coming in three, two, one…

“You, Viviana Novikov,” he says, firing my new last name at me like a bullet, “care so fucking much about everyone in your life. About me. And, most of all, about Dante.”

I frown. This isn’t where I thought this was going. I’m perfectly still on the edge of the bed, waiting for the shoe to drop. For him to throw the knockout punch.

“You’ve spent your entire life sacrificing yourself—your happiness, your freedom, your desires—to make sure Dante was safe and cared for. You worked your ass off for six years to take care of him on your own.”

“What are you—” I start.

But Mikhail presses the pad of his thumb to my lips, silencing me. “You don’t know how to let someone else take care of the two of you.”

I swat his hand away. “You lied to me.”

“Because you couldn’t handle it,” he fires back. “You were going to fall apart and it would have scared Dante. He was finally okay with leaving, and I didn’t want you to make things worse for him.”

“I’m his mother! I wouldn’t make things worse. I would have?—”

“Sobbed,” he finishes. “You would have fallen apart the same way you did here, except you would have done it in front of Dante and all of his classmates and his teachers.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t. This explosion has been brewing inside of me for days. Weeks. The moment Mikhail brought up boarding school again, it was only a matter of time.

“When you’re thinking clearly, you know sending him away is the right call,” he says gently. “I didn’t want one moment of weakness to undo everything.”

“You left me,” I blurt. My voice breaks and I slap a hand over my mouth. Angry tears burn in my eyes.

Mikhail’s face softens. He curls warm fingers around my jaw. “The only way for me to take care of you was to leave you behind. Just for a little while.”

I’m still angry. Livid, actually. Rage is still simmering low in my belly.

But I don’t hate him. Of course I don’t. How could I? Mikhail did what he does best, what he’s always done: he made the tough call and stuck around to face the consequences.

There’s still so much energy sizzling under my skin, but I don’t want to hit him. I don’t want to destroy anything. I want to… I don’t know what I want.

As always, Mikhail does.

He spreads his arms again, his voice a low rumble. “Take it out on me, Viviana.”

I throw myself at him again, but this time, I wrap my arms around his neck. I curl my body against his strong chest and let him hold me as I kiss the scratches on his throat and the red welts on his cheeks.

His hands grip my butt, pinning me against the erection I feel growing between us. “I’m so mad at you,” I pant between kisses.

“I know.” He walks me to the bed, laying me back as he falls over me.

His weight presses me down and I scrape my nails over his shoulder blades and the thick bands of muscle on either side of his spine, trying to draw him closer.

His beard scratches along my jaw and my collarbones. My flimsy pajamas are like gauze in his hands. He rips my top in two with one tug. Then his palms are over my breasts. He rolls my nipples between his calloused fingers and the nervous energy under my skin finds purpose.

It demands more.

I slide my hand between our bodies and find the hard length of him. He groans, a deep, strangled sound low in his throat, when I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke.

“Like this,” I croak, opening my thighs to make more space for him. “Take me like this, Mikhail.”

I don’t want to wait. I don’t need him to take me to the edge. I’m already there. I’ve been here for hours. Now, I want to fall with him.

He presses hot kisses to my collarbone and my pulse point. His teeth nip at my earlobe before he breathes, “Whatever you need, Viviana.”

Mikhail shoves my panties to the side and wastes no time. He presses me open, parting me gently at first. Then he slides deep.

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