21. Natalya

Chapter 21

Natalya

I don’t know who invented heated pools, but they deserve a medal.

No, they deserve a parade and an ice cream flavor named after them.

Any other circumstance and it would be way too cold to be out here right now, but this is absolutely dream-like perfect.

I float on my back for a while, staring up at the stars. It makes me feel small, but in sort of a good way.

Most of the time, feeling small means feeling like I’m all alone in the world. But for some reason, the cold, uncaring reaches of space is weirdly comforting.

Maybe I’m just bizarre like that.

But knowing that everyone is stuck under the same sky looking at the same stars and dreaming the same dreams is comforting. Especially since there’s nothing else out in the vast darkness.

Well, except for aliens, obviously.

But the water is exceedingly comfortable, and the view out over the river is immaculate. The good vibes from my piano session earlier in the day are still lingering, and I feel halfway decent for the first time in a while.

I flip around and lean forward on the edge, elbows on the rim and kick my legs out behind me, my butt raised slightly. I like the contrast between the chilly air and the warm water.

It’s almost like relaxing in a bathtub. Like a bathtub with an incredible view.

This, right here, is the life. I could seriously get used to this. For the first time, I’m starting to think that living with Alex won’t be so bad.

Until the sliding door opens and his boots stomp on the balcony.

“You need to get inside,” he snarls at me.

I look up in surprise. Alex stands beside the pool staring down at me with a look caught between rage and uncertainty. He keeps glancing around like someone’s going to attack him at any moment.

I shove away from the wall. “What happened?”

“Just get inside.” He reaches down as I swim over and he drags me out when I put my hand in his. He wraps a towel around me and hurries me toward the door, and I go with him, not sure what’s going on.

But the look on his face has me spooked.

“Would you just slow down?” Once we’re in the relative safety of the apartment, I wriggle out of his grip. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Something happened earlier.” His face is wreathed in the darkness of the apartment. There are no lights on except the one in the bedroom. “I can’t explain, but you have to trust me. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

“Alex, we’re in your apartment. I don’t know if there’s anywhere safer.”

He grabs me again. This time, he pulls me to the steps and up into his bedroom. I stumble as he slams the door closed behind him and locks the handle, snarling something about there not being enough deadbolts in this fucking place.

I back away, not sure what’s going on with him, as he turns to face me.

“We’ve been lax,” he says, breathing slowly but deeply. “I’ve been soft on you, printsessa . I haven’t pushed, but that time’s over.”

“You’ve been… soft? This is soft ?” I stare like he’s gone insane. A part of me is afraid, but a bigger part knows Alex would never hurt me. Even when he’s like this.

“No more sleeping in the other room. Starting now, you will be where I can protect you at all times.”

“Okay, let’s say we do that.” I take a step away as he moves toward me. “Let’s say I sleep in here with you. What about when you’re gone?”

“I’ll figure that out.”

“What bout when I need to go to the store? Or what if someone delivers food or a package? Can I answer the door? Can I go down and get the mail?”

“Details,” he says, s topping in front of me. I’m backed all the way up to the bed with only a towel and a skimpy bikini between us. I wish I’d worn a conservative one piece—but I don’t actually own any.

“These are important details,” I say quietly, putting my hands on his chest to keep him from overwhelming me. “You can’t just rush in here, drag me up to your room, and act like an attack’s imminent without telling me what’s going on or even thinking about how all of this is going to work.”

His jaw flexes and he stares at me. Then he reaches out and grabs the edge of my towel, right above the knot over my breasts, and unravels it.

The towel slides off my body. My skin’s still damp and goosebumps cover my arms and chest as cold, dry interior air brushes across the moisture. His hands move down my skin like he’s studying me, and a thrill runs into my stomach. I’ve never been looked at this like this before—not since Paris at least. His gaze burns with a mixture of pain and need, like he’s deeply conflicted, until his hands finally land on my hips. His fingers indent the skin on my lower back right above my ass.

He licks his lips.

“I don’t want to scare you,” he says very quietly.

“Too fucking late for that.”

“I need you to understand that I’m not doing this because I want to.” His grip on me tightens, and I’m not sure I believe that. “I’m doing it because I need to protect you. I took a vow.”

“And you’re the kind of man that takes vows seriously.”

“You probably think I take them too seriously.”

“I don’t know.” My lips part. My heart hammers in my ears. “I just wish you’d talk to me.”

“I have to keep you safe. That’s all you need to know. Making you sleep in bed with me?—“

He stops almost as if he can’t bring himself to say the last part.

“It’s only for my protection?” I ask him, whispering, too aware of how big he is and how close he’s standing.

Alex looms over me like a perfect death god. His lips are poison and his fingers are daggers, and I know I’m going to kill myself with him.

“I’m not supposed to want this,” he finally says and that admission finally breaks something in me.

I stand on my toes. My lips just barely reach the line of his jaw. I kiss him, barely brushing the stubble.

He reaches up with one hand, grabs my hair, and buries my mouth with a strangled snarl.

The passion ignites every fiber in my body. Every nerve explodes as he claims me with that kiss. His tongue invades mine, possessive, needy, controlling, and his grip in my hair tightens. It’s like he’s been holding himself back, but only just barely, and finally the lines between us are all erased and smashed to pieces.

He feels so good. His taste is like lavender and mint, and his lips know exactly how to kiss me, like he’s been practicing just for this moment. He crushes me against him, and my small, soft body feels tiny compared to his massive muscular frame. He could crush me—and I know he won’t.

But a part of me wants him to.

“Stay with me,” he whispers as he pushes me down onto the bed. He pins me there, kissing my lips, my neck, my chest, his other hand reaching down to tug at the bottom of my bikini. “Let me keep you.”

I notice he doesn’t say the word safe .

“Alex,” I moan, back arching as he shoves my bikini top up and finds my nipples with his mouth. He sucks them and slides a hand between my legs, finding the heat pooled there. God, I’m wet and sticky, and he teases me up and down and groans as he does it.

“Look at you, filthy fucking girl,” he says, staring at me in the darkness, two fingers sliding deep into my pussy. “All I had to do was kiss you once and you’re a fucking mess .”

“Oh my god,” I gasp as he rolls his tongue around one nipple and slides his fingers in and out, going nice and deep before teasing my clit. “Don’t act like it’s such a surprise.”

“I’m not surprised at all.” He moves up and kisses me gently, his lips and tongue probing mine. “I knew you’ve been waiting for this.”

“Oh, fuck you ,” I moan as he roughly shoves my legs open and kisses down to my hip bones. I grind into his mouth as he buries my pussy with his lips, claiming me as his own while his tongue glides up and down my swollen lips.

He’s such a conceited bastard, but he’s right. I have been waiting for this. Desperately, eagerly, I’ve been thinking about our night in Paris and kept wondering if we left our connection behind in Europe.

I kept feeling glimmers of it. Little moments where I thought maybe we still had something.

But I wasn’t sure until right now.

I feel it. My god , I feel it.

He licks my pussy and glides his fingers in and out, sucking my clit as he does it, makign the most obscene noises like he’s feasting on my fucking body. I squirm and grab his hair, my pussy glowing with almost too much sensitivity.

But I dive into it, I ride the blissful pain, and he doesn’t stop. The man’s a freaking animal, and it feels incredible.

“That’s right, baby, I’ve missed this fucking taste,” he says as he laps me up and fucks me with his fingers. “I missed those moans and the way your hips push into me. You’re so greedy and messy, you filthy fucking girl. How can you pretend like you don’t want to sleep in my bed?”

“God damn it,” I groan, eyes rolling back. “Are you bribing me with oral sex right now?”

“I’m getting my wife off,” he says and pulls back. The look he gives me is pure bliss and sin. If I weren’t going to hell before, I definitely am now. “That’s part of my duty as a good husband.”

Oh fuck.

He drops back down and eats me ferociously. I don’t last much longer—that simmering, burning look he just gave me lit my whole world on fire—and it only takes a few laps of his tongue and some deft, skilled strokes of his fingers to get me moaning his name.

I come on his mouth. My triggers pull and I’m done, I’m finished, I come so hard I can barely breathe. My skin flushes pink like it always does when I orgasm, my chest a mottle of pale white and red. He pulls back, licking his fingers, and surveys his work.

His smirk makes me hate him even more.

“That’s a good wife,” he says, shoves me sideways onto my belly, and pats my ass possessively. “I’ll go bring your things in here for you tonight.”

There’s no point arguing. And anyway, I couldn’t form normal words even if I wanted to. He stares down at my body for one lingering moment before leaving me alone to stew in a mix of heady post-orgasm bliss and the intense but undeniable knowledge that I am fucking up big time.