Chapter 14 - Pearl

"You may now kiss the bride."

Maxim smirks as he loops one arm around my waist, dipping me low and kissing me in front of nearly a hundred people I don't know. The only other person in the building I know is Aesha.

I'm stiff at first not wanting to share the kiss with him, even as tempting as he is. A rough nip at my bottom lip prompts me to stop fighting him.

Giving in, I allow my mouth to slide against his, my lips parting as his fingers dig into my back through the laces of the corseted dress.

When we stand back up, the men and women gathered start clapping, but none of them look that excited for a wedding.

I wonder if they all know I was seconds away from being dragged down the aisle by my ankle. When Maxim came to meet me outside before the ceremony, I was still considering running away. I don't know what he stands to gain from this marriage beyond children and pleasing his boss.

I know that I have everything to lose, including my life.

Nicolo might think that this is a clever way to get information on the Bratva, but I think this is something akin to the worst kind of torture. The more days that pass, the more certain I am that I'm not going to make it out alive.

He takes my hand and walks me down from the altar, stopping at a man in the front row who has the same jaw structure as Maxim. "This is my brother, Nikita. If you ever have a problem and I'm not available, you can reach out to him, and he'll take care of you."

Nikita takes my hand, bowing low and pressing a kiss to the back of it which only seems to irritate his brother, "It's nice to finally meet you. I was wondering why my brother had spent weeks sulking over a woman. It's normally not in his nature."

Laughing, I shake his hand before letting it go. "It's nice to meet you too. Maxim took me to your childhood home in Krasnodar Krai. It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you got to go there. He took it over when our father died. I wouldn't have known what to do with the place, but he seems to love it."

"Don't listen to him," Maxim says, his smile good-natured. "Nikita would've figured out something to do with the place, but it probably would've involved tearing it down, building up a ski resort, maybe taking foreigners hunting."

The last sentence is nothing but a callback to the day and night we shared. I don't want to think about the time we spent in Russia and how the best time I've spent with him was overseas.

It seems like that's all he's thinking about right now too.

It seems ridiculous to think that our marriage is already falling apart when we just said our vows. Maybe I could convince him to get a divorce. I'd fulfill whatever end of the deal I have to uphold, and then we could end it before I have a chance to get my heart broken.

Although there's a part of me that doesn't want to divorce—this part of me that seems to grow each day, thinking about what it would be like to be with Maxim, to be his wife in every aspect of the word, to grow a family with him, maybe live in Russia for a little bit.

Those thoughts disappear, the second I close my eyes at night, head on the pillow, and images of my father's death flashback play across my mind instead.

There's no world in which I'd stay with Maxim for the rest of my life. I know that. And yet we step out of the church to the car waiting to drive us to our home.

All I can think about is what would happen if I threw myself out of the car right now.

We drive out of the city, heading toward Long Island, the houses growing few and far between, stretching larger and grander, looking out over the harbor.

The house we stop in front of is a piece of modern architecture, all red-toned wood with black plaster. Large windows all around to let in light. We get out of the car and set foot on a stone driveway. My heels click against each one as I walk toward the house. I climb the steps as Maxim jogs up them, pulling open the door and with one quick movement picks me up and I squeal.

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you over the threshold. Isn't that what your husband should be doing." He laughs.

I must admit that this was kind of cute and a surprise that a man like him knows also how to be a romantic. The only other time he has given me a glimpse of this softer side was back in Russia when we watched the stars.

"This is going to be your home for the time being–our home." Maxim nods to the maid who appears in the hallway, smoothing down the pair of slacks she wears, making sure there's not a wrinkle in her blouse as she stands at attention in front of us. "This is Laura. If there's anything you need, speak to her. She's been with my family since I was eleven."

Laura gives a soft smile, the white of her teeth contrasting sharply with her dark hair. The longer I look at her, the more I see the grey strands flowing through her hair, feeding into the bun at the nape of her neck.

"Hi," I say, my voice soft as I walk forward, holding out my hand. "I'm Pearl."

"Well, Miss Pearl, come with me. We'll get you settled into your room. I know it's been a long day. And I suspect it will be an even longer night."

My cheeks flame as I try to figure out what she means. Of course, I know what traditionally happens on the wedding night, but that's not the kind of relationship Maxim and I have.

Eventually, there will be no avoiding sex with him, but for tonight, I don't want it.

Except, the fire glowing low in my belly tells me otherwise, especially when I look at him as he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt showing the dark smattering of hair on his chest. Pressing my thighs together, I follow the maid toward the winding staircase. The railing is much the same as that of Maxim's Russian home, hand-carved and polished perfection.

Laura shows me to a room at the top of the staircase, down the hall, and on the right-hand side. She pushes open the frosted glass doors. "This is going to be your room; Mr. Maxim has a room just across the hall from yours."

At least he doesn't expect us to sleep in the same room.

"Thank you, Laura. Would you mind helping me get out of this dress? I'm afraid I can't undo the corset on my own."

She gives me a warm smile as she follows me into the room. Her fingers easily work through the knot at the base of my spine before unlacing me completely.

"There you are," she says. "If there's anything else you need, there's a button by the door, just press it and it'll buzz me, okay?"

"Thank you."

Laura leaves the room, closing the door behind her, leaving me standing in the middle of a white-painted room with dark wood floors. Everything about the room is cold and impersonal, from the silver metals to the white fabrics.

I slide out of the dress, letting the heavy fabric fall to the floor. It feels like I've shed a second skin today, the weight of it pushing from my shoulders as I roll them back, turning my head from side to side to ease the stiffness in my neck.

Right now, a hot shower sounds divine.

I glance around, find the door to the bathroom, and step inside, slipping off the lingerie that Aesha insisted I wear under the dress. She thought that I should have pretty lingerie for the wedding night. She didn't want to listen to how this is going to be a marriage of nothing but convenience. For both of us.

With a deep breath, I step into the shower and turn on the faucet, letting the hot water cascade down my back. I work my fingers through the hair, loosening the hairspray that holds it in place. Makeup bleeds down my fingertips as I scrub it from my skin, tired of having it caked on.

I take my time in the shower trying to scrub away the nerves from my body. I'm not going to kill Maxim tonight but knowing that he's so close that all it would take is a knife in the middle of the night while he's sleeping is intoxicating. There's a certain thrill that I can't seem to escape.

But then there's the appeal of being protected, knowing that nobody can hurt me. While working for Nicolo was nice and he kept me safe. I know without a doubt that he will never let anybody put a finger on me.

The harsher side of Maxim is in direct conflict with the man I saw in Russia. Knowing what he's capable of, knowing how he behaves when he can let his guard down. It's all at war with each other and I don't know how to handle it. But in all fairness, he barely got to see the real me, after all, I'm still role-playing, pretending to be someone I'm not. He's right, it's all bullshit. What will happen if Nicolo gets what he wants? What will happen after? God, this is so fucked up.

I step out of the shower, taking my time to dry myself with the fluffy terrycloth towel. After putting on my favorite lotion, I grabbed the silky pajama set hanging from the back door.

They feel like heaven on my skin as I slide them on, taking my time to do up the two buttons in the center of the shirt, the rest of it hanging open.

I pull open the door and step back into the bedroom, and I freeze. Maxim is in the middle of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, showing off the plane of his chiseled chest, leading down to the hair that disappears under the waistband of his pants.

"Why are you here?" I ask, voice trembling.

I know exactly what he's doing here. I was hoping that we could put it off tonight, and I was sure that I'd be able to avoid it for the time being.

Except he's sitting right there, and when he looks that good, I don't think I have an ounce of willpower left.

Maxim motions between me and the bed. "Come here."

As if there's a tether tied between us, I can't resist his order, slowly crossing the room, toes sinking into the plush carpet just peeking out from beneath the bed before I climb onto the cushy surface beside him.

"I was gentle with you earlier," he says, his voice raspy as he looks at me, his hand landing on my thigh and sliding up until his fingers slip beneath the hem of my shorts "I'm not going to be gentle anymore."

A chill runs through me at the thought of what he could possibly mean. Before I know it, he's hovering over me. His legs straddle me on either side, his hands gripping the headboard.

My heart skips a beat, my hands moving at their own will to touch his chest, feeling along the ridges of his muscles down to his pants. "Do we have to do this tonight?"

It's a weak protest. There's no power behind it.

I wanted this in Russia, and I want it now. Maybe once I've slept with him, I can finally get him out of my system and commit fully to why I'm really here.

Maxim's head dips closer to me, his lips tracing along my jaw. "You're my wife. I want your body, mind, and soul. All of you."

He leans back, sitting on his heels, hovering just above my legs as his hands climb up my thighs once more.

Arousal dampens my core as he tugs at the hem of the shorts, pulling them down. "Lift your hips."

I do as he says without hesitation, letting him work the shorts down my legs. He tosses them to the side, gaze burning as he looks at me naked and vulnerable in front of him.

"Your tight little pussy is already dripping for me," he says. He shifts his way down the bed, sliding his shirt off in the process.

His skin is covered in tattoos, the same florals as his arms. All I want to do this trace my tongue along those lines, feeling the ridges of his body beneath my hands as I come.

Maxim kisses his way up inside my leg, nipping and sucking at the skin as I grind under him, trying to get the friction I'm craving.

"You want me. I know you want me. Stop trying to fight it, my little huntress, and just let go like we both know you longing to do."

"Are you going to keep talking to feed your ego or are you going to make me come?"

"I like a woman who knows what she wants." His tongue slides along my wet slit, catching every single drop of the dew there. "You still taste as sweet as I remember."

"Holy shit, I don't think anybody's ever done that before."

"Licked your pussy and made you come on their tongue? Let you ride their face until you're screaming? Never?"

"What can I say, I've been with a lot of selfish lovers."

"How many?" he asks, his voice rough, fingers digging into the flesh of my thigh as he pulls me closer to him.

"Three," I answer without hesitation, knowing that the longer I tease him, the worse he's going to taunt me in return, winding both of us more until we're arguing instead of fucking.

If this is going to be the only time we're going to have sex, I want to enjoy it.

He smirks. "That's the first and last time we ever talk about your past relationships. I don't want to know, and they have no place in our bedroom."

With that said, his head dips between my legs, his tongue sliding through my folds again. He flicks his tongue over the little bundle of nerves before sucking it hard into his mouth.

My hands fly to his shoulders, trying to stabilize myself when my hips rocket off the bed. I grind against his tongue, needing to feel more of him.

The tip slides into my slick channel and he laps at my quivering walls.

"Maxim," I say, my voice a breathy moan as one hand crawls up the back of his head, sinking into the soft strands of his hair.

He nips at the sensitive skin with the barest touch of his teeth. The sharpness compared to the soft flesh has me aching, my inner thighs soaked.

Chuckling, he blows out a breath of cool air over my core. "You're such a good little girl for me. Look at how wet you are. I might have to make you lick me clean after I fuck you just to get your juices off my cock."

His words send a shiver down my spine, eyes half-hooded as I tug on his hair, urging him to return his mouth to my pussy.

"Fuck, Pearl, do you know how fucking good you taste? Your pussy is my new favorite dessert."

For once, he doesn't give me a hard time, mouth closing over my clit. Two thick fingers press at my entrance, easing it wider as he dips into me. His tongue works in time with his fingers, taking me to new heights, tremors coursing through my body as the first orgasm builds.

When he crooks his fingers and presses them against my inner walls, I come hard. Wetness coats his fingers, more slicking down my legs as I rock with him, trying to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible.

"Oh my God, Maxim!" I exhale, and a slow, satisfied noise sounding like a grunt escapes.

"You liked that, huh"? He chuckles from deep in his chest. "We are not done yet, baby girl."

Maxim laps up every drop I have to give him before moving up the bed. He grasps either side of my shirt in his tattooed hands, yanking it open. The buttons go flying, pinging off the lamp beside the bed before flying to the ground.

He's rough as he pulls one nipple and then the other between his teeth. He leans over me, capturing my mouth with his. Our teeth clash as I claw at his back, trying to get him impossibly closer to me. All the pent-up tension between us over the last month is finally being released.

My hands travel down the sides of his body, straight to the button on his pants. The outline of his hardened length presses against my pussy, grinding against me through the soft fabric that separates us. As I frantically fumble to undo his zipper, he grabs my hands and stops me.

"What do you want?" He grins at me sheepishly.

I'm startled. "I want more."

"Tell me what you want. Let me hear it." He says again and holds me firm, his mouth hovering over mine.

"I … I want you. I want your cock." I stumble in frustration.

Maxim still doesn't let me move my hand; this is torture, he is fucking teasing me. He stares at me until I say the words, I never thought I would need to say to a man.

"Please, fuck me. Now." I can't believe I sound so needy.

"That's my girl. I knew you would beg for me. It's all yours, baby." He growls into my neck as he kisses his way to my chest.

He lets go of my hands and it takes a second to pop his pants open and yank them together with his boxers over his thighs, needing them out of the way. I palm his cock, tracing the vein from base to tip with my finger. I slide over the drop of moisture gathering there, rubbing it into his skin.

Maxim's rough gasp sends my heart soaring as he reaches between us and grabs my hand. He takes both of my wrists in one hand, forcing them above my head and pressing them into the mattress.

My body bows as he tightens his grip. I'm sure that there are going to be bruises on my skin in the morning, but it only excites me more.

I shouldn't like the thought of wearing his mark, but there's a dark part of me that likes other people knowing I belong to someone.

He slams into me with one smooth motion, his hips pistoning as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy clamps down around him, inner walls pulsing as his cock fills me, stretching me to my limits.

"Fuck, that feels so good. More, please." I'm begging, again, and I hate it, but I need every inch of him that I can get. I never had such crazy, mind-blowing sex before, and I don't think anyone else will ever be able to fill his shoes, or rather fill me like he does.

I want to ruin him too, but I don't think I'm going to get the chance tonight.

"Your pussy is so tight. It's mine now. Feels like it was made for me." He rolls his hips, driving against a spot I didn't even know existed.

Hooking my legs around his hips, I try to pull myself closer to him, meeting him thrust for thrust as I start to lose all feeling over my body.

My limbs are numb as he pulls out and slams back in, moving faster until I'm clutching his hands, thrashing against the bed as I come.

"Fuck, yes. Give it to me, Pearl. Comer all over my cock." He groans, each stroke slowing as his erection stiffens.

He comes, spilling his seed inside me, keeping himself sheathed until he's given me every drop. When he slides out, he takes his time, my hands still captive in his grasp. As he pulls away, he looks down at me, sweat dripping down his skin and making the black ink glisten.

"You are fucking gorgeous, but I think you need to cool down little vixen." He says playfully.

He leans over, picks me up, and tosses me over his shoulder. His big hand lands on my ass so hard it must be glowing. I giggle as he walks us to the bathroom. When he puts me down in the shower, I'm glad I allowed myself a night with him.

Tomorrow, he can go back to being the man I'm going to kill.

Tonight, he's the man who's going to fuck me senseless, and I can't wait.