Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I wake, my half-dream slipping away, and there he is—a shadow by the window, watching over me. The soft glow of moonlight in front of him bathes him in a gentle golden hue, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Bare-chested, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and holds a bottle of beer in one hand.
I blink in surprise and look down. I’m still in the white satin panties and bra, the dress over a chair. I don’t even remember taking it off. I must’ve fallen asleep.
“Ollie?”
He turns to me. I’m unable to see his eyes as he’s shadowed in darkness.
“What time is it?” I ask.
Shrugging, he puts the bottle to his lips and finishes it. I’m mesmerized by the way he swallows. There’s something irascibly masculine about the way a man swallows with his head tipped back, a brief glimpse of his vulnerability.
“Don’t know,” he says when he’s finished. “Don’t care.”
I look down again as if to remind myself I’m nearly naked. “Did you take my wedding dress off?”
“Yeah. You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. Not after that ordeal.”
My arm throbs beneath the bandage. I stare at it and breathe a sigh of relief. It’s gone. The fucking tracker’s gone, and, by now, likely as far away from here as he could get it.
“Eh. Thanks, but I’ve been through worse than that,” I say with a laugh.
He’s instantly sober. “I know.”
The scent of roses hangs in the air, mingling with the hint of his cologne. I swallow. “I thought… doesn’t the Bratva have rules about consummating a marriage?”
“Mmm,” he says. “They do.” He moves toward me with predatory grace, each step deliberate. As he nears me, I can finally see his eyes, as green as enchanted jade. “You’re so beautiful.”
A shiver of anticipation ripples through me as he draws closer. When he reaches me, he sits on the end of the bed. “You made me so proud today.”
I tip my head to the side just as his hand cups my jaw. “Did I? When?”
“When you took your vows. And when you didn’t flinch when I took that fucking tracker out of your arm.” His voice lowers. “When you let me take care of you.” As he speaks, he traces a finger down my neck, over my collarbone, to the slim strap of my bra. With deliberate care, his touch glides over my skin, sliding the bra off my shoulders like he’s unveiling me. It falls half off, cupping the lower part of my breasts.
My heart pounds in my chest. I’m nearly naked before my ruthless husband.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Ollie?”
“Mmm?” he says, staring at my bare skin just before he slowly, deliberately, reaches to my back and unclasps my bra. It falls to the bed, baring my breasts to him. I look at them as if seeing them for the first time. They’re full, with large, dusky pink nipples that harden just from the intensity of his gaze and his nearness.
“Yes?” He bends his mouth to my breast and kisses the underside. My breath hitches.
“Do you believe me now?”
“I do,” he says with conviction. My eyes flutter closed as relief washes through me. He said I do earlier, too, and I feel in that moment there are no two words sweeter in all of English.
He believes me.
It doesn’t matter if his family doesn’t. It doesn’t matter if Carlos is after us and will attempt to destroy us. None of that concerns me now. All that matters is that Ollie believes me. We’re married. We’re a unit, a team, and no one will tear us apart.
“You have no power to lie, Renata. It’s not who you are.”
I exhale. “There were times when I wished that I could.”
“Yeah,” he says, kissing higher up my breast. Anticipation makes my pulse race. “Lying comes in useful, doesn’t it?”
He leans in, his lips brushing mine. My chest rises to meet him.
I’m the one who deepens this kiss. I reach for him, drawing him closer to me as his hands roam over my body, leaving a wake of fire in his path. I can feel the urgency of his need in his touch and in the way he kisses me. He moves fully onto the bed, and our bodies press against each other, heat building between us with each passing moment.
His lips trace a path of kisses down my neck, over my shoulders, across my chest, each touch sending waves of pleasure through me. The way he touches me feels reverent, and my heart swells with something like love.
Can I love a man like him?
Could I love anyone less than him?
We move together on the bed, our bodies pressed against each other. The heat between us builds with every second that passes. As we sink deeper into the softness of our shared bed, his movements grow more urgent, his kisses darker. More demanding. I meet him with equal fervor, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. The world outside the two of us ceases to exist. The world could burn to the ground around us, and we wouldn’t notice.