Page 48 of Blood Oath Christmas
He stands and reaches for his pants fastenings, but I quickly sit up and impatiently brush his hands aside.
“You undressed me,” I say with a smile. “It’s only fair I do the same for you.”
His expression heats even more and he drops his hands to his sides. My fingers fumble only a couple of times before I undo the fastenings and open the fly. The tip of his dick springs free and I look up at him in surprise.
“You went commando to our wedding?”
He nods. “I go commando everywhere. I don’t like restrictions.”
I push his pants down, squatting down so that I can take off his shoes and remove his pants. On the way back up, I pause, my head level with his penis. A drop of precum glistens on the tip and I can’t help myself. Sticking my tongue out, I gently lick the tip, capturing the semi-salty drop on my tongue. His body jerks as I close my eyes and moan at the taste.
“Holy shit,” Konstantin groans, then lifts me by the armpits and tosses me on the bed. The mattress gives and I bounce a couple of times, laughing as he climbs atop me.
My laughter dies, though, when his lips capture mine and we really get down to consummating this marriage. My thoughts scatter when his dick presses insistently at my opening. Breathing is a forgotten ability.
Konstantin reaches down beneath my knees and raises them, spreading them even wider so that he settles perfectly in the cradle between my thighs.
“You’ve done it now, Ivy,” he breathes against my mouth. “I wanted this first time with you to be slow, but I can’t wait. I need to claim you now.”
Music to my ears. For answer, I arch my hips at the same time he presses inside me. He buries himself and then pauses, letting my body get used to his.
“Look at me, Ivy.” His voice is tight, and when I open my eyes and look at him, his expression is tight, too.
It’s only when I keep my eyes on him that Konstantin begins to move, in and out, his strokes filling me completely. My arms wrap around his neck while my knees encase his sides. One hand reaches up to wrap in his hair, pulling snugly on the silky strands.
“Fuck,” he groans, then reaches a hand between our bodies. His talented finger finds my clit and he rubs and pinches it. Heat coils inside me, my core tightens, and I swear stars burst behind my eyelids as the best orgasm of my life soars through me.
A second later, he speeds up, our bodies slapping together as the pressure builds again, higher and more intense. Just as I’m peaking on my second orgasm, Konstantin groans and pushes even deeper inside me. His dick pulses inside me as he finds his release.
Once our breathing has settled, Konstantin rolls to his back and pulls me into his side. My head fits snugly at his shoulder, my cheek resting on the face of the dragon tattoo.
A smile hovers over my face even though my eyes are closed. I feel… drained, sated… wonderful.
Until thoughts start creeping in. Unwanted thoughts that I try to tell my brain to shut up, let me enjoy this moment. But it won’t and worry starts to take over.
Konstantin married me out of a sense of duty, but someday, I will be out of danger. What then? I can’t expect him to stay wedded to me. He has his own life to live. No matter how much I’ve come to care for him, or maybebecauseI care for him, I can’t be responsible for him throwing his life away.
My fingers idly draw circles across his chest as I take a deep breath to get courage for what I want—no, what Ineed—to say.
“When…” I clear my throat and try again. “When Vadim is locked safely away in prison and all this is over, we can get an annulment or divorce?—"
“When a Mikhailov marries,” he says, voice low and even, “we do it for life.” He holds my gaze and then says, “There will be no divorce.”
26
KONSTANTIN
The disbelief in Ivy's eyes cuts through me like a blade. She stares at me as if I've just told her the sky is green, her lips parted in shock. The soft glow of the bedside lamp catches the gold flecks in her brown eyes, making them shimmer with something that looks dangerously close to panic.
"What do you mean, the Mikhailovs don’t divorce?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear the tremor in it.
I sit up against the headboard, pulling the sheet across my lap. The scent of our lovemaking still lingers in the air between us, a reminder of what we've just shared. What we've just sealed.
"Exactly what I said,moya zhena." The Russian endearment rolls off my tongue naturally. My wife. "Marriage in the Mikhailov family is sacred. It's a bond that cannot be broken."
She scrambles to sit up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "But this was supposed to be temporary. You said?—"
"I said I would protect you. And I will. For the rest of my life." I reach out to touch her face, but she flinches away. The rejection stings more than I expected it to.
