Page 6 of Savage Mafia King

I try to stop crying. I try to suppress the sobs that seem to rise no matter how hard I fight them. When Dimitri held me just now, when his strong arms wrapped around me, there was something… calming. It was strange. His touch—so firm, so unyielding—made me feel safe, despite everything. My head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart against my ear… for a moment, it felt like nothing bad could touch me ever again.

But then, the fear came rushing back. It’s suffocating, the uncertainty of what comes next.What does he think of me now?When I walked down the aisle earlier, I saw the hunger in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to devour me, and part of me wanted him to. But now… now, he must think I’m weak. Maybe he’s rethinking the whole arrangement. What if he regrets this? What if he decides to cast me out? What would I do then? How could I keep Marie safe?

I force myself to breathe, to calm the panic rising in my chest.Stop it, Elena.This is the best thing that could’ve happened to you, to both of you. Your father would’ve been proud. He would’ve seen this marriage as the right thing to do. A union of necessity. Dimitri is offering you protection, stability—everything you need. This is good. This is…right.

The door creaks, and Dimitri walks back into the room. My breath catches in my throat. He’s stripped down now, standing in front of me in nothing but boxer briefs. The sight of him sends a shiver through my body. He’s tall, muscular—more so than I realized when he was clothed. His body is like a work of art, every inch of him chiseled, hard,dangerous.

My gaze drops, and I see the outline of his erection straining against the fabric. It’s… intimidating. No one ever told me what todoon a night like this. No one ever explained this part to me, not the way it would feel, the fear, the anticipation. I was toldthat a man like Dimitri wouldtakewhat was his, that it might hurt, but that’s the way it’s supposed to be. But now, staring at the reality of it… it’s so much more real than I’d imagined.

His hand rests on the back of my head, and I inhale sharply. His touch, though gentle, feels possessive, claiming. He strokes my hair, and then his other hand slides under my shoulder, lifting me up, pulling me closer. My heart races as he begins to unlace the back of my dress. The air feels thick with tension, and despite myself, I tremble beneath his hands.

I can’t stop it. I can’t stop the trembling. It betrays my fear, my vulnerability, but nothing I do calms the shaking in my limbs.

The dress falls away from my shoulders, slipping down my body, and I canfeelhis eyes on me. He’s drinking me in, examining every inch of me, and I feel so exposed. The delicate lace undergarment I’m wearing does little to hide my body, and I know he can see everything—my breasts pushing against the lace, my hardened nipples betraying my arousal despite my fear. My skin tingles under his gaze.

But he doesn’t rush. He doesn’t immediately take what I thought he would. Instead, his hand slides down to mine, and he leads me to the bed. His touch is surprisingly tender, and it confuses me. I expect dominance, force. Yet here he is, leading me gently. My heart is pounding in my chest as I climb into bed, unsure of what comes next.

The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating, as he lies beside me. The bed feels enormous, like a chasm has opened between us, and I wait—wait for him to take me, claim me, like he promised he would.

But instead, he pulls the covers over us. He leans in and kisses me, and it’s deeper, warmer than the kiss we shared during the ceremony. His lips send a current through me, making my body respond in ways I hadn’t expected. I feel his hand trace down my body, lingering over my hips. And to my surprise, I feel a flicker of heat between my legs.

He shifts, turning me onto my side, and pulls me close. I can feel the hardness of him pressing against me, the thick bulge fitting perfectly against my ass. His hand slides up my torso, cupping my breast, and my body arches into him involuntarily.

“I’ll wait,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice a dark, velvet promise. “I can see you’re not ready for this, my princess. Not yet. But I won’t wait forever. I will claim what’s mine. But tonight, I’ll give you time.”

Relief floods through me, more powerful than I’d anticipated. Every muscle in my body relaxes as if I’d been holding my breath for hours. I turn my head slightly, my lips trembling, and whisper the words I know he expects to hear.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He presses against me, his hand squeezing my breast, and I feel a deep, almost primal heat unfurl in the pit of my stomach. His lips brush against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“Sleep,” he orders softly. “We’ll continue this tomorrow night.”

But as his breathing slows, his body relaxing against mine, I’m wide awake. Desire pulses through me, mixing with fear, confusion, and something else—something darker. I’m wet, aching for him in a way that terrifies me. And as much as I want to rest, I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Not with the thought of what tomorrow will bring.

6

Dimitri

I watch her as she follows me through the house. Her steps are quiet, hesitant, like she’s walking on glass, afraid it might shatter beneath her. She doesn’t need to be afraid of me, not yet. But that’s something she’ll learn with time. The woman I’ve married will come to understand her place here.

“This is the kitchen,” I tell her, my voice sharp. I can feel her unease, and it stirs something primal inside me. “You can ask the chefs and prep people for whatever you need, and they’ll get it for you.”

She nods but doesn’t speak. That’s good. I like that she knows when to keep her mouth shut. Obedience will be necessary. I continue through the house, leading her toward the dining area. I don’t look back, but I can hear her soft steps trailing behind me.

“This is where you’ll eat all family meals,” I say, my voice steady, authoritative.

“Family?” Her soft, broken voice halts my steps. I turn to see that look again, that blank expression like she’s drowning in her own memories. Her eyes are glazed, her lips parted, and it takes everything in me not to shake her out of it. I’ve given her time to grieve, time to mourn her dead father and adjust to her new life. But this hesitation, this weakness—it irritates me.

“Elena, I’m your family now. Marie’s too.” I keep my voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. She needs to understand this. She belongs to me now, and so does her sister. I’ll protect them both, but it comes at a price—her submission.

She nods and falls in step again, her silence lingering in the air between us. I guide her through the rest of the house, showing her the rooms, explaining her duties. But my mind isn’t on these rooms or the fucking schedules. My mind is on her. She’s still in mourning, yes, but she’s mine. And tonight, she’ll learn what that truly means.

When we reach the living room, I point to a door on the far side of the room. “That’s my private den. You’re not permitted to enter there.”

Her brow furrows slightly. “Not permitted?” she asks, her voice carrying a quiet defiance that makes me pause.

“Yes. I’ve lived in this house alone for a long time, Elena. I’m the master of this household, and there are private spaces that I want to remain private.” She needs to understand—there are parts of me she doesn’t get access to. Not yet.

---