Page 23 of Possessive Vows

I vow to ignore him until tomorrow’s meeting with my siblings.

I’ll sleep on the floor if he insists on taking the bed and eat standing over the sink if he sits at the table.

It can’t be that hard to pretend like my massive, tempting bratva protector doesn’t exist, right?

Chapter 6

Dimitri Volkov

Her haunted eyes remain vividin my mind as she escapes into the bathroom. When she locks the door, I silently praise her for standing her ground.

The pathetic lock wouldn’t keep me out if I wanted in, but I’m playing the long game.

I’m playing for keeps.

I wait until she turns on the shower to step away from the sink. Underneath the lingering fruity scent of her perfume lies the scent of her fear.

My fault. I pushed her too far too fast. My scared little sunbeam needs time and exposure before she’ll trust me enough to shine her brightest for me.

After almost three days of no sleep and more miles traveled than most people experience in their entire lifetime, I need several hours of restorative sleep to be alert enough to protect Camilla through another day, but aftermoya so´lnyshka’s reaction to me, I feel refreshed enough for a shower. As I wait my turn, I send a text to Yerik and the rest of my crew and sort the groceries and tuck the cold items into the refrigerator as I wait for their responses.

Everyone checks in and updates me on their findings using the code specific to my family.

Yerik tailed the second man to an apartment on the outskirts of New York City.

The shower turns off.

I conclude the check-ins and peek through the curtain to check the parking lot. It remains the same as when we entered.

Even though it’s early afternoon, I suspect both Camilla and I could benefit from sleeping for as long as possible. I turn on the television and scroll through the channels, stopping on the most mundane show I can find, and turn the volume down low.

She takes several more minutes before she opens the door. No steam wafts from the room. Wearing a clean set of sweats with a towel wrapped around her shoulders and her wet hair streaming down her back, she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

Her pallor is worse than when she closed the door between us. She avoids eye contact and shuffles to the sink to brush her teeth with the stuff we bought from the convenience store.

I grab my bag from underneath the table and stride into the bathroom. Expecting residual warmth from her shower, concern spears through me when icy air wafts from the tub.

I leave the door slightly ajar and strip, stacking my weapons and stuff from my pockets into my bag. The packet of bandages mocks me.

Anastasia gave it to me, and I’ve refilled it several times after using them on my sons, but Camilla is the first woman I put one on.

I shove my ruminations away and balance my secondary knife—because Camilla has my primary—on the ledge in the shower before stepping in for a quick wash.

When I emerge in a fresh pair of jeans and black t-shirt with my weapons stashed in my bag and my knife in my belt, Camilla sits with her back against the headboard furthest away from the door with the blankets wrapped tightly around her. She jerks awake and scowls as she realizes she allowed herself to fall asleep.

“Lay down and sleep, Camilla. I will wake you for dinner,” I say.

After a moment, she sighs and nods before wiggling down to lie on her side facing the wall.

She remains stiff and alert for a few minutes, stealing glances at me through the mirror as I take my time brushing my teeth and trimming my facial hair, but her exhaustion gets the better of her and she slips into a doze. I flick off the overhead lights but leave the bedside lamps and bathroom light on, and with the TV still playing, the room remains fairly bright. Her sharp inhale as I settle on the other side of the bed hardens my cock. Since she snagged all the blankets and pillows, I lie flat on my back and cross my arms over my chest, pinning my hands to my ribs with my biceps to prevent myself from reaching for her in my sleep.

I say nothing. She shifts further away from me.

“What will you tell your sister if you show up covered in bruises tomorrow because you fell off the bed?” I rumble, not wanting to startle her but concerned over her comfort. “I will only bite if you ask me to,so´lnyshka. We are both too tired for more than sleep.”

“Don’t joke about things like that. I’ll never ask you to bite or touch me,” she hisses.

“I am not joking,moya lyubov,and how does that saying go? Never say never?” I murmur as I let my mind slip toward a doze.

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