Page 71 of Ivory Oath

VIVIANA

The candles have burnt down to useless nubs, trails of smoke curling into the air when Mikhail carries me through the cabin and straight up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Our bed,” he growls, kicking open the bedroom door only to kick it shut behind him a second later.

He lowers me to my feet at the end of our bed and stands back. His eyes trace the line of my dress, lingering where the neckline dips low over my chest, where my hair curls against my shoulder.

I log the look on his face as one to remember. Something to pull out when I’m not feeling my best. If a man like him can look at me like this, things can’t be too bad.

“I’ve dreamt about this moment.” He reaches out to stroke my collarbone, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Having sex with me?” I laugh nervously. “You’ve done that before.”

His careful assessment is setting me on edge. I’m used to falling into heady lust with Mikhail and tearing each other’s clothes off. But this slow admiration is still new.

I feel like my skin doesn’t fit right over my bones.

His hand whispers over my shoulder, slow, thoughtful. He fingers my lace sleeve before gripping my elbow, like he somehow knows I’m seconds away from diving under the blankets to hide from how seen I feel.

“Having sex with my wife,” he clarifies.

“I’ve been your wife for months.”

He ignores me, wrapping his arms around my back until he finds the zipper along my spine. He draws it down carefully, the vibration tickling across my skin. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted you the day we got married?”

The oxygen in the room is gone. I should tell him I can’t breathe, but I’m too busy enjoying the slow suffocation. His body is feverish against mine.

“I remember you saying something about having some frustration to burn off.”

He laughs. “More than you can imagine. I was lying to myself and to you. I told everyone it was just a business deal, but I couldn’t fucking think when you were close to me, Viviana.”

I thought the way Mikhail touches me would be the death of me, but his heartfelt confessions are ruining me ten times faster. I’m frozen, trapped between attacking him with every ounce of the desire burning through me and standing perfectly still so that he keeps saying such lovely things.

His hands slide under the delicate fabric of my dress. They float around my ribcage and then tighten, enveloping me until I’m crushed against him. He works his fingertips down my back, kneading and stroking his way under the skirt of the dress, and dragging our hips together so I can feel how hard he is against my stomach.

We’re still clothed. He’s giving me a hug. That’s all this is—an intense, erotically-charged hug, but a hug nonetheless. It shouldn’t feel this good. It wouldn’t if he was anyone else.

But Mikhail isn’t anyone else.

He’s mine.

“I can’t think now,” I admit breathlessly. “You feel so good.”

His hands scrape lower, caressing the backs of my thighs like he’s trying to memorize my topography. Like there might be a test later. If there is, I volunteer to proctor that exam.

“It all got so much worse when you were gone.” His breath is hot on my neck.

All I can think about is how much I want his lips there instead. How much I want him to take a bite of me. But I’m also hanging on every word. We haven’t talked about what happened after he sent me away. Not really.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He kisses my thundering pulse. “I couldn’t eat. I spent every day beating a punching bag, trying to forget the way you feel, the way you smell…” The flat of his tongue follows the curve of my jawline. I curl my fingers through his hair as his stubble scrapes my cheek. “The way you taste. I was going crazy.”

I shouldn’t like the idea of Mikhail suffering over me, but send me straight to hell because I really, really do.

“I’m going crazy right now, Mikhail.” I press away from his chest and drag my dress down so it’s pooled around my waist. My nipples pebble from the cool air and his hot gaze. “I need you.”

He drops his forehead to mine, stroking his hands over my waist and higher to curl around my breasts. He flicks his thumb over the point, making me shiver.

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