Page 24 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

If his hair were much longer, I would have ripped out handfuls, but instead, I tore into his shoulders, my head thrown back as he thrust a final time, hard and deep. His roar echoed around the cellar, and the couch thudded against the stone wall with the force of his movements.

All I could do was hold on. It was all I wanted to do, lost in that frantic whirlwind. He finally collapsed against me, his breath hot against my neck as he groaned, something I didn’t catch. His heart thundered against my chest, and mine echoed it.

I had never felt so raw, so exposed, and so utterly complete as I lay there beneath Arkadi, the cracked ceiling slowly coming into focus as my breathing subsided. I ran my hands down his sides, realizing he still had his pants on; they were just pushed down around his knees. His shirt was in tatters. Had I done that? Gone so wild, I tore through the fine cotton fabric. My own clothes were a lost cause.

“What did we just do?” I asked, really not quite sure.

Arkadi kissed me, rolling to the side but keeping me close. “The same thing we’re going to do again in a few minutes,” he told me.

For once, I didn’t have any arguments.

Chapter 17 - Arkadi

I was as stunned as Mila was when we suddenly flung ourselves at each other like wild animals. The fury of our lust was truly untamed. Our clothes were in tatters, my shoulders lined with the marks of her fingernails. She lay panting in my arms with half-closed eyes and a dreamy smile on her kiss-swollen lips.

It was earth-shaking, and I still wasn’t sure how it had happened. My only plan after the meeting was to keep my unruly wife in a good mood until I could arrange a flight back to Moscow. I had to put her in someone else’s care until I could twist her brothers to my will. Cold showers weren’t going to cut it, and there was no way to stay so close to her without making her mine. But every minute we were together, and I watched her shine, only reinforced that she already was.

A few sips of champagne and a little music, and that was all out the door. This was no longer a marriage in name only, for the purpose of keeping the degenerates from the auction away from her, or for humiliating my foes. It was much deeper now, and I wasn’t giving her back, no matter what.

We both might have been a little tipsy, but there was no denying the very real need. Mila wanted me every bit as much as I wanted her. Even as we struggled to catch our breath, I was already ready to go again.

“What did we just do?” she asked, dazed.

I chuckled, loving the sight of her pink cheeks and the way she reached for me. “The same thing we’re going to do again in a few minutes.”

I situated us in a more comfortable position. The oversized couch was roomy enough, but many of the cushionshad been tossed aside during our frenzy, and we’d somehow managed to shake it halfway across the room. It was a miracle none of the expensive wines hadn’t been knocked from the racks and shattered. After kissing her until she sighed against my lips, I pulled away, just appreciating her beauty.

“You know,” I said, tucking her under my arm so that her cheek rested against my shoulder. “I promised you a nice meal. I don’t want to be accused of going against the Geneva Conventions again.”

My tone was teasing, and at the mention of a meal, her smile widened. But I went too far in my joke, and her face fell flat. Great, I’d all but reminded her she was a hostage. The only way I could think of to make her feel differently was to kiss her some more, and I was happy enough to do it.

Damn it, not fast enough. Mila went stiff in my arms and turned her face away. I held on tighter, loath to give up what we’d just shared. I moved a strand of hair off her cheek and trailed my finger down her throat, my eyes beseeching. Hers were stormy as she scrambled off the couch.

Grabbing my jacket, which lay nearby, she tossed it around herself. “This was a mistake.”

“Like hell it was,” I countered, getting pissed off myself.

She continued looking around for bits of her clothes, huffing at each one when she saw they were all in pieces. Slipping her arms into the sleeves of my jacket, she pulled it tightly in front of herself.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, looking wildly toward the steps leading out of the wine cellar. “You really will have to kill me if you think I’m going to stay married to you.”

A dark cloud descended over me when I heard that. I was done with that threat. I jumped up, gratified when her eyes dropped to take me in. Her cheeks flared bright red, and she turned away, crossing her arms defiantly. Yanking my pants up, I moved to block her exit.

She was no prisoner now, no matter what she believed, but we were having this out.

“Stop trying to make me believe that death is worse than being married to me.” I gripped her shoulders and made her look at me. “Because wearemarried. And it’s staying that way.”

Mila shook out of my grasp and glared up at me with enough force that I should have dropped dead myself. “Only until my brothers find me,” she spat. “And they will. Make no mistake about that.”

I threw up my hands, not about to start arguing about her damn brothers. I didn’t want to argue at all. Before I could find a way to defuse the situation, she tossed my arm aside and slid past me, hurrying toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I demanded, holding myself back from restraining her. That wasn’t the way to deal with my fiery bride, not when she was about to combust.

“Don’t worry, I’m well aware that there are guards everywhere, waiting to taser me until you can carry me back like the Neanderthal that you are. I’m just going to find a bedroom so I can get some sleep.”

My jaw dropped as she made her way up the steps and shoved open the door. “You are my wife, and you will sleep in my bed,” I bellowed.

With only a snort of derision, she slammed out without a backward glance.

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