Page 35 of His to Ruin

She makes a surprised sound, but does as she’s told. Keeping a tight grip on her head, I lift my hips and thrust deep, hitting the back of her throat. She gags and stares up at me with tear-filled eyes. She doesn’t try to pull off me as I slide out over her lips and drive back in again.

“Fuck, that hot little mouth feels so good.”

I pump my hips in a steady rhythm, enjoying the way she chokes on my length. Tears stream down her face, but she kneels there and takes it like a good girl. No, not a girl. Despite the mess I’m making of her, my wife is a fucking goddess.

As the pressure intensifies, my balls tighten and I know I won’t last much longer.

“Ya blizko!” I yell, giving her only a second’s warning in a language she doesn’t understand before coming down her throat.

Olivia swallows everything I give her. I untangle my fingers from her hair, allowing her to pull back. She rests on her heels and swipes away the tears and saliva from her face. She looks over her shoulder and then down at the floor, anywhere but at me. Reaching forward, I put a finger under her chin and tilt her face until her eyes meet mine.

“That was incredible,malyskha.”

“Really?” Her voice is strangled, as if she’s on the verge of tears.

“Yes, a perfect gift from my new bride, one I appreciate very much.”

A tremulous smile forms on her face and I realize she was worried she hadn’t pleased me. Despite her outward appearance of confidence, I’ve witnessed flashes of insecurity from my wife since I started to watch her more closely. Today, her façade has slipped more than once. It’s not surprising considering the number of changes the last twenty-four hours have brought for her. No longer the only sister of a Mafia boss, she’s now aPakhan’s wife. It’s a lot to drop on her, but she’ll adjust soon enough.

“You need to get some sleep,” I tell her. Exhaustion will only exacerbate her emotional state. I stand and tuck myself back into my clothing before helping her up from the floor. I pull back the covers of the bed. “In you get.”

She looks up at me with what I can only describe as hope. “Will you join me?”

Fuck, I can’t say no to those big blue eyes. “For a little while. I have work to do.”

“Of course.” I don’t like the resignation in her voice.

Leaving my clothes on, I get into the bed next to her. If I undress, I’ll only end up fucking her and she really needs to sleep. I draw the sheets up over us and put an arm around her. Holding her tight, I wait until she drifts off. It doesn’t take long, an indication of how tired she really is.

When I’m sure she’s fast asleep, I get up and go for a shower. I have business to deal with, and I can’t let Olivia distract me. No matter how tempted I might be.

CHAPTER 12

Olivia

When I wake, it’s with that groggy feeling I get if I sleep too long. I open my eyes and blink as they adjust to the sunlight flooding the room. Piotr is gone, but that doesn’t surprise me. He made it clear he won’t be using our honeymoon to show me the sights of Paris. Perhaps I should take revenge and spend a shitload of his money while he’s in meetings. I read about a neglected bride doing that in a novel recently. The trouble is he hasn’t given me a credit card I can take my anger out on. Not that I’m mad at Piotr for combining our honeymoon with business. I’m not comfortable enough with the man to want to be with him twenty-four/seven yet.

As I think about Piotr, I burrow my face into my pillow and groan in embarrassment, recalling how emotional I got earlier. I was overwhelmed after sucking his cock because no matter how hard I try to banish the memory, I still remember how Dario ridiculed me after making me do that to him. He called me a worthless whore, not even capable of giving a decent blowjob.

Piotr didn’t mock me for my amateur efforts. He assured me he enjoyed what I did. I don’t think he’d have said that just to be nice. Soothing egos isn’t his style. He must have enjoyed fucking my mouth. At the time, I sensed he did, but the moment he came down my throat, doubt crept in. I worried if he thought badly of me. Shaking my head, I decide to get a grip. My husband’s approval shouldn’t matter this much to me.

I get up and take a quick shower, drying my hair before I dress. The outfit I choose is mainly for comfort, but it’s still cute. Blue jeans and a white crushed silk top will help me blend in with the crowd. They’re also the only clothes the housekeeper won’t need to run an iron over before putting them in the closet. I’m a terrible packer. Despite trying all the different internet hacks I’ve come across, everything ends up creased.

Anticipating I’ll spend a lot of time on my feet today, I slip on baby pink sneakers. The outfit doesn’t scream rich American, and it certainly doesn’t suggest Bratva queen, but that’s intentional. In New York, everyone knows who I am. Here, I can have a break from the wary recognition that follows me wherever I go.

When I’m ready to face whatever’s left of the day, I make my way out of the bedroom and along the corridors, following the smell of coffee until it leads me to the kitchen. The room is tiny. It makes the two large males crammed into the small space around the table in the corner look faintly ridiculous. I didn’t expect to find Piotr here. Perhaps he’s done for the day.

He and Jimmy aren’t talking to each other. They’re both staring at their phones. The empty plates in front of them tell me they ate a meal together. For reasons I can’t explain, that makes me happy.

Despite having his back to me, it’s Piotr who’s first to notice my presence. He rises from the table and walks the few steps across the kitchen to greet me with a kiss. He’s incredibly handsome in black slacks and a matching shirt. The angel of death vibe suits him.

“You didn’t sleep long,” he remarks.

“I didn’t?” I feel as if I’ve been out for hours.

“No, it’s only nine-thirty.”

“Wow.” I expected it to be past noon. “I thought you had to work.”

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