Page 55 of Possessive Vows

“Thank you for worrying about my children,so´lnyshka. They will need your fierce protection, even if they fight against it in the beginning.”

My heart threatens to melt through the soles of my feet but worry clings to me and roughens my voice. I can’t imagine my grandparents tossing me onto a plane without an explanation.

“Please tell me they have an adult they trust with them, along with an entire team of bodyguards. You said Artur was eight, right? That’s the same age as Tristan. I don’t care how you raised them or how brave they may be, they can’t be on a plane alone.”

I struggle to breathe through the force of my emotions.

Dimitri stands and stalks toward me but stops a foot away. When he opens his arms, I step into them without hesitation.

“Hush,so´lnyshka. They are safe. My father hired Olga Petrev, an esteemed caretaker from Moscow, to be their new nanny. She tutored Anastasia several decades ago and will watch over them while they travel.”

I tighten my arms around him and revel in his return squeeze.

“We haven’t caught Feliks, though. It’s not safe for them here,” I murmur against his bare chest.

“They cannot stay at the manor. My brother Boris’s five children contracted a virus and must remain in quarantine for two weeks. This comes right after his wife, Katya, announced their sixth baby last night. She is in hospital.”

“Mio Dio, that sounds like a nightmare,” I whisper.

My head gives a disconcerting throb.

“Your brother’s lawyer works quickly. My father saw our marriage certificate half an hour ago. He knows I would not marry you without a safe place to keep you, so he sent my children in hopes they avoid getting sick. They belong with me anyway.”

I nod. Fatigue wraps around me and fills my head with cotton. I press my forehead against his sternum and fight to form words.

“I’m nervous to meet them. And tired,” I whisper into his chest hair.

He rumbles out a note of concern.

“Do not be nervous, Camilla. We will figure this out together, but you must sleep first. Let me tuck you into bed.”

I stiffen despite wanting what he offers. My nightmares lurk just beyond my thoughts. They threaten to return with vengeance since I ignored them all day.

“I can tuck myself in—wait, no, I can’t go to sleep. We have to get ready for the kids’ arrival. What do—”

“Hush,so´lnyshka. The last few days have been too stressful. You must sleep now. We will discuss this when you wake,” he demands.

When my legs turn to jelly, I nod and rise onto tiptoe to hook my arms around his nape. After the slightest hesitation, he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist and tuck my face into the crook of his neck, using his scent to center myself as sensations zing through my clit and memories sour my stomach.

He takes a few smooth strides toward the bed, flips the blankets down, and sets me on the edge.

I blink as he drops to a knee and pulls my sneaker off my foot. Realizing I still wear the pants suit I married him in—which seems like a lifetime ago even though it was only a few hours—I reach for the buttons of my blazer but sigh in frustration and drop my hands onto my lap when they refuse to work.

Dimitri carefully slips my other shoe off before gently peeling my socks off and draping them over the footboard. My entire body stiffens when he reaches for the front buttons of my coat.

He changes tactics. I swallow an unexpected ball of emotions as he guides my hands onto the back of his and encourages me to lead his actions. I wrap my fingers as far around his wrists as they’ll reach and lift his hands to the front of my suit.

His bright blue eyes shine with hunger and affection as he unbuttons my coat and slips the fabric off my shoulders. If he were towering over me, I’d lose it, but he remains kneeling at my feet with my hands guiding his as he pulls the rest of my clothes off my torso and unfastens my trousers.

He weaves his digits into mine and mumbles words of encouragement as he rises and tugs me to my feet. My heart pounds against my sternum as I move his hands to my waistband. Warmth seeps through me even as worms crawl in my belly as he tucks his roughened digits between the fabric and my scarred flesh. Inch by inch, he pulls my pants over my hips and down my thighs, until my arms no longer reach. I release his wrists. He continues lowering my trousers to the floor and skims his luminescent orbs up my body.

My core gives a weak squeeze despite the exhaustion weighing me down.

With barely there pressure, he ghosts the pads of his fingers up the back of my right leg before encompassing my hand in his. Goosebumps pepper my flesh as I meet his eyes.

He doesn’t need to speak. His expression says it all.

He’s all in, just like I am.

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