Chapter 20

Twenty

"Ilike your friends," Nikita admits softly as she washes her face next to me in the bathroom.

I like that she likes them. I smile, knowing she can't see me. Maybe Tris showing up was a good thing. He's like a secret weapon in this mission of mine. No one can be unhappy around Tris. At least when he's not in kill mode.

Trying to wipe the smile off, I keep the annoyed tone I've used with Tris all night.

"He's like a dog with a bone. He never fucking stops," I grumble.

She finishes drying her face before turning toward me.

Sharing a bathroom like this is intimate in a way I never considered. It's only been two days of us getting ready for bed together, but brushing my teeth next to her before watching her do her nightly routine provides me a level of contentment I've never felt.

"He loves you. You are blessed to have someone who cares for you that much. Especially seeing as you are not even part of the same family. If there was a falling out, you would be forced to be his enemy, but that man is loyal to you as much as he is to his family. Anyone with eyes can see it."

I soften at her words. I sometimes forget what a rough life she has had up until this point. I won't let her suffer anymore.

"You're right, mo chroi,"I admit, very reluctantly, that he is probably my best friend. I would also have his back if shit went down with the families, but with all the marriages between all of us, I feel like that won't be an issue anytime soon. Maybe with the next generation."

"You married me, but you have no relationship with the Russians. Marriage isn't a magic bandage to solve all problems."

She's getting agitated. Why does it make me want to pin her to the counter and fuck her until she screams my name?

"Is that what you feel our marriage is? A Band-Aid?" I move closer to her, cupping her cheek.

"Sometimes. You confuse me. You ignore me for a month. Then you save me, reject me, and now you are trying to date me. This is a game I do not enjoy playing," she murmurs.

Brushing my finger on her bottom lip, I look over her face before meeting her eyes. "I've neglected you too much. I see that now. You want to know my intentions? I'll make them very clear. I want you, Nikita. Not as some toy or a fake wife. Not as an enemy, although arguing with you is one of my favorite pastimes. I want you as my real wife. The woman I come home to every night who takes the stress away."

She goes to say something, but it's lost against the press of my lips on hers. I press one chaste kiss, then a second, gauging her reaction. When she presses closer, I let my fingers brush from her cheek to her neck and down her arm until I'm holding her hand in mine. Then I open my mouth, licking her lips.

She moans, opening her own mouth, teasing me with her tongue. I nibble her bottom lip before pulling back. Her eyes are closed, but her lips try to follow me, making me chuckle.

When her eyes flutter open, her pupils are blown. At first she looks dazed, but after two blinks, she narrows her eyes at me.

"Why did you stop?"

"If I didn't, this would go much further than I want it to tonight."

She rolls her eyes, making my hand twitch to spank her ass.

"I thought I was supposed to be the virgin in this relationship," she huffs, letting my hand drop to push past me.

I follow behind her, watching her ass sway in the tiny sleep shorts she's wearing. She paired it with a black tank top with no bra. She's a sight to see, that's for sure. I'm just glad she's wearing clothes. I couldn't handle another drunk Nikita stripping down to nothing.

I have a strong will, but a man can only hold back so much with a wife as gorgeous as her.

I lean against the frame of the door as she pulls the comforter down, getting into her side of the bed.

"It has nothing to do with being a virgin, Nikita. We didn't do any of this right. We need to start from the beginning. Get to know one another. A physical relationship would just complicate things. Especially since I know you only want my dick for the baby batter hiding within." I raise an eyebrow.

She glares at me. "You don't know what you're talking about. Are you coming to bed or not?"

I head over to the bed, walking around to the other side to put myself between Nikita and both the window and the door. I check the gun I had placed on the nightstand prior to going into the bathroom to confirm it was loaded and ready to go. It's habit at this point.

Thankfully, Nikita doesn't say anything about it. She just keeps her back to me, facing the bathroom.

Crawling into bed beside her, I grin. Tristano complained to me a million times about my small-ass bed, but it's working in my favor. She has no choice but to be pressed against me. It's the only way we both fit.

Leaning over her, I flip off the lamp on her nightstand, blanketing the room in darkness.

I settle next to her, purposely pushing against her.

"Stop pushing me off the bed," she grumbles, but she doesn't move.

"I can't help it. You are a bed hog."

"Me? Last night I had to practically lie on top of you to stay on the bed. If anyone is a bed hog, it's you."

I smile. She's engaging, which is good. I like to piss her off. She doesn't even realize she's giving me what I want.

"What do you want me to do about it then? I could go sleep on the couch like I was doing." I pretend to huff for her benefit.

She's quiet a moment. "It's fine. It's your bed. I wouldn't kick you out of it."

She doesn't remember that she told me she wanted me to sleep with her, so I know she's full of shit.

"If you're sure." I wiggle a bit more, hearing her let out a breath of annoyance.

Then I plaster my front to her back, my arm banding around her waist.

"What are you doing?" she hisses.

"I wouldn't want you to fall off the bed, wifey. I better keep hold of you." Then I press a kiss to the back of her head. "Good night, mo chroi."

She is breathing a little heavier but eventually rasps a "good night" back to me.

I wait for the tension in her body to melt away before I let myself relax. When her breathing becomes steadier, I press closer to her.

If you had told me months ago that I would not only be married to Nikita but that I would enjoy spending time with her, I would have called you a liar. I like sitting across the table from her and talking over dinner. I can't help but smile when I see that little line form between her eyebrows as we watch TV together at night. Learning her little quirks is slowly becoming one of my favorite things.

"I'm going to make you love me, mo chroi," I admit to her softly.

Carefully, I turn her onto her back. Then to her other side so she's facing me. Then, ever so slowly, I move her body until her entire weight is on me. She's like my own personal weighted blanket.

Then I let myself fall asleep with the single most important person in my arms.

Declan is pressinghis cock against me. Rubbing my clit with it and bringing me pleasure. My hips grind against him just as hard. I want this. No. I need him.

"Mo chroi. You're killing me."

My hips continue to move as I slowly come awake. My core is throbbing. I can already tell I've soaked my shorts.

That's not the issue, though.

No, the issue is that for the second day in a row, I find myself with my face plastered against Declan's chest. Opening my eyes slowly, I realize I somehow managed to maneuver myself on top of him once again. It's quite embarrassing on its own, but now I am very well aware that the grinding I was doing on his dick in my dream was real. My legs are spread on either side of his hips as my drenched core is pressed against those cursed black boxers he wore to bed last night.

I don't even want to look at him. My face feels like it's on fire.

Declan moves beneath me. I almost think he is going to push me off him and onto the floor. I would deserve it, but he doesn't.

Instead, his hands which were on my back move to my hips. Then he thrusts up into my core, making me gasp. The only thing separating us are my shorts and his boxers. I will them to disappear as he hits my clit, making me moan.

"That's it, wifey. Make yourself feel good."

I don't want him to stop, but I need to know.

"I thought you wanted to take it slow. Isn't that why you denied me last night?" I ask, finally looking up at him.

I shouldn't have looked. I can feel myself clench against nothing at the pure desire reflected in his eyes.

"Oh, we are going to take it slow. As much as I want to sink my cock into this wet pussy, I am going to wait because I want to be sure it's what you really want. That it's not some ploy to get a kid out of me only to forget me. I can't deny you, though. You should have told me you were aching, mo chroi."

"Who said I am aching?" I manage before I moan at the next hit of his body against mine.

My eyes fall closed as I feel my body building up to something I've only felt once before. I've never had an orgasm by my own hand before. Only from him on our wedding night. I attempted to achieve it again, but my body wouldn't behave. This sensation feels so good, but it also scares me. I have no idea what's going to happen when the tension inside me finally cracks. Last time, I felt immense pleasure, but it was shadowed by the fact that my husband didn't want me. This time, it's different. Everything feels different.

My eyes jolt open at the smack against my ass.

"No more lies. This needy pussy is dripping. It better be for me. Tell me what you were dreaming about."

I can barely think, let alone speak. I let my forehead fall back to his chest, surrendering myself to the sensations sparking in my core.

Another smack has me moaning loudly.

"Dec," I cry out.

"Answer me." His low, growly tone is not cooling me down.

No, it's making me hotter. I want him to use it on me again.

"Nothing," I breathe out.

He pulls up my shorts in the back so my ass cheek is hanging out. Then he smacks it a third time, the sound filling the room.

I wince at the sting of pain, but it immediately turns to pleasure as he rubs the spot.

"Lie to me again, and I'll turn this pretty pert ass red with my hands. Then I'll deny your orgasm and leave you needy all day."

His words only drive me higher. I feel like Declan slides from one persona to another so quickly. There's the tough Mafia guy. The annoying neighbor. The charming asshole. Now the authoritative man who has a sensual side.

I can't handle it.

"You. I was dreaming of you."

He flips me to my back, grabbing each of my hands as he pulls them above my head. Then he leans in, his entire body pressed against the length of mine as he continues to thrust against me.

When he presses his lips to mine, I open to him easily, letting him swallow every noise falling from my lips.

As I feel myself growing tighter, I begin to move against him, chasing that pleasure spot I know has to be coming.

Then it hits. My back attempts to arch, but I can't move with his full weight on top of me. That only makes me come harder. Knowing he is holding me down. Forcing my body to take this pleasure.

I'm sucking in my breath as if I'm gasping for air as my vision is dotted with black and white spots. My ears grow cloudy.

I don't regret it, though.

Wow.

The first time wasn't a fluke. Declan really does know how to wring pleasure from my body that I've never felt before him. If that's what an orgasm from him feels like, I'm going to need him to give me one every single day.

I feel his weight leave me, his hands leaving mine on the bed. I'm disappointed. I wanted more of him. I didn't want him to leave me yet.

Blinking my vision clear, I look up expecting to see the ceiling, but I don't. Instead, the sight that greets me has my greedy pussy begging for more.

Declan is propped above me, his boxers pulled down with one hand stroking his dick. He is looking at my pussy, but I must make a noise because he meets my eyes.

Glancing down, my eyes widen at how big he is. There's a bead of liquid on the end of his cock, making me want to reach out and touch it.

I can't, though. I'm frozen.

"Fuck, mo chroi." He jerks in his hand, then he comes, jets of his essence landing on my stomach from where my tank top rode up.

I stay still, eyes wide, not wanting to miss a single moment.

When he finally stops stroking, he leans down, resting his forehead against mine.

Slowly, he lets me take his weight.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispers.

I don't have an answer for him.

Whatever I'm doing to him, he's doing to me tenfold.

Still, I wouldn't change it for the world.

I might have started out fearing this man, then hating him, but with each small gesture, I know I am going to fall head over heels in love with him.

I only hope that he falls for me too, because if not, I'm fucked.