Page 30 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

She crosses her arms. “Fine. Then as your temporary wife, I’ll try to be more mindful of security protocols, but I need you to understand that if someone needs medical assistance, I will help them. That’s non-negotiable.”

I study her determined expression. There’s no point arguing further. She won’t budge on this, and part of me doesn’t want her to. Her compassion and dedication to helping others are fundamental to who she is. “Next time, at least tell Valeriya or Fydor where you’re going,” I concede.

“I will try.” She nods. “I promise.”

The tension between us shifts, transforming into something different. Not quite resolved but changed. There’s an awarenessnow, an unspoken acknowledgment that our arrangement has evolved into something neither of us anticipated.

I stare at Elena, her words hanging between us. The realization that I was genuinely afraid for her safety hits me with unexpected force. My carefully constructed walls—the ones that have kept me alive all these years—are cracking. “Don’t disappear like that again.”

“I won’t,” she whispers, her gaze locked with mine.

Something inside me snaps. The control I’ve maintained my entire life slips away, replaced by raw, primal need. I close the distance between us in two strides, my hands finding her waist, pushing her backward until her spine meets the wall.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but there’s no fear in them. Only recognition of what’s happening between us.

I capture her mouth with mine, kissing her hard. My tongue pushes past her lips, demanding entry she readily grants. Her hands slide up my chest, fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Damir…” She gasps when I break the kiss to trail my lips down her neck.

I don’t answer with words. My body speaks for me as I press against her, letting her feel my hard cock and desire for her. I yank her shirt up, and she raises her arms, allowing me to pull it over her head and toss it aside.

Her simple cotton bra is practical, medical—nothing like the lace and silk my previous women wore, or that frothy confection she wore on our wedding night. Yet the sight of her in it drives me wild. I reach behind her, unclasping it with practiced ease, freeing her breasts.

“You scared me,” I murmur against her skin, my lips traveling down to capture a nipple. “When Valeriya called...”

Elena arches into my mouth, threading her fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breathy. “I didn’t think?—”

“Stop talking.” I silence her with another kiss, rougher than before. My hands work at the waist of pants, pushing them down her hips along with her underwear.

She kicks them away, standing naked before me while I remain fully clothed. The power imbalance excites us both. I see it in her dilated pupils and the flush spreading across her chest.

I press her harder against the wall, sliding my hand between her thighs to delve into her pussy. She’s already wet and ready for me. I stroke her clit slowly, deliberately, watching her face as pleasure overtakes her.

“Damir, please.” She moans while fumbling with my belt. “I need you.”

I catch her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. “Not yet.”

I continue my assault on her senses, working her into a frenzy while I claim her neck, her breasts, and any skin I can reach with my mouth. She writhes against me, struggling against my grip, clearly desperate for more.

“Please,” she begs again.

This time I relent, releasing her hands to unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants. I free my cock and lift her in one smooth motion. She wraps her legs around my waist instinctively, pressing her back against the wall for support.

I position myself at her entrance, pausing for just a moment. Our gazes lock, and in that brief second, a message moves from one mind to another, an acknowledgment that this is more than physical, more than our convenient arrangement.

Then I thrust into her pussy, hard and deep. She cries out, digging her nails into my shoulders through my shirt. I establish a punishing rhythm, driving into her with all the fear and frustration of the past hours.

“Don’t. Ever.” I punctuate each word with a thrust. “Disappear. On. Me. Again.”

“I won’t.” Her head falls back against the wall. “I promise.”

I adjust my angle, hitting a spot that makes her moan louder. Her inner muscles clench around my cock as she trembles with approaching release.

“Damir,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m close.”

I increase my pace, gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks. “Come for me, Elena.”

Her body obeys, shuddering against mine as she falls apart. The sight of her with head thrown back, lips parted, and eyes closed in ecstasy pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck as I follow her into oblivion, my release tearing through me with unexpected intensity.

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