Ghost (Boston Underworld #3) - A. Zavarelli Page 0,55
accept that this man is my husband.
He’s more than that.
He’s my savior. My unwilling hero. And the thing that is most dangerous of all.
My hope.
“Be a good girl and come for me, yes?”
I do.
I come hard for him. And he pulls his fingers from me and sucks them into his mouth before placing his hand back on the steering wheel.
The car is quiet, except for my loud breathing as I come down from the high. He doesn’t speak. Or say anything else. Ask for anything else.
But I want to give it to him regardless.
I unbuckle and balance my knees on my seat, leaning over into his space. I kiss his throat and jaw, and then briefly, his lips when he turns into me.
My hand is fumbling with his zipper. His belt. I get them undone, and lower my head towards his groin. When I pull his cock free and get him into my mouth, Alexei grips the back of my head with his right hand, pushing me down further.
He drives, and I suck him off. My head bobbing up and down in his lap with the guidance of his hand. The insistence. He groans and then comes in my mouth.
“Swallow it all, Solnyshko,” he tells me.
My throat works around his cock, doing exactly as he orders. And only then does he release his hold on me, his fingers stroking over my face.
“Good girl.”
I put him back together, zipping him up and buckling his belt. And then linger in his space to kiss him on his throat once more. It’s a stupid thing to do. And it’s too much.
“Buckle yourself in,” he orders.
I move back to my side of the car, putting myself back together and buckling the seat belt. When I stare out the window, my throat is clogged, and I don’t know why.
Alexei’s hand finds mine, his warmth enveloping and surprising me.
“You are the perfect wife,” he tells me. “Perfect for me, Solnyshko.”
I look at him and nod.
I don’t know if it’s an insult or a compliment.
30
Talia
The Christmas party is held at what can only be described as a compound. Every car is checked at the gate, and every guest vetted before they enter.
And in that moment, I realize that my life here with Alexei is not so different from how I lived at Arman’s. Only now, the same security measures that felt like a vice grip around my neck feel safe.
Alexei parks the car and tells me to wait, coming around to open my door for me. He is old fashioned in these ways. A man who values tradition. It is a rare quality. And for the briefest of moments, when he takes my arm in his, I feel a flash of pride from the idea of being at his side tonight.
We are greeted at the door by several men I do not recognize, nor understand. They speak in their native tongue, except for when Alexei makes introductions. Even then, they barely glance at me, except to nod and congratulate me on my nuptials. A sign of respect, I think. For Alexei.
It makes me curious. Exactly what his position in the organization is. I don’t even know what he does. But when I look up at him, looking down at me, I don’t care either.
He keeps me safe. He protects me.
He saved me.
Even now, in this room full of his own friends, he shields me with his body. Keeping me pulled close to his side and ready to destroy anyone who dares to enter my orbit.
We sit down to dinner within minutes of our arrival. A feast consisting of breads and pies, borscht and fresh fruit and nuts throughout the meal. Alexei keeps his arm across the back of my chair while we eat, sheltering me while he carries on conversation with the man across from us.
Viktor.
The same voice that called me a whore.
From his position at the table, I can see he is important. The most important man here tonight. He is served first, and nobody eats until he has taken the first bite. These men respect him. Alexei respects him. But I still can’t bring myself to truly respect him. So I keep my attention diverted to my plate and the food until the meal is over.
After a round of drinks is served, music starts to play from the other room, and the guests begin to migrate in that direction.
“You must take your new bride for a spin, Lyoshenka,” Viktor says.