Chapter 8 - Yefim

All morning my brothers and cousins have been hounding me.

Today is my wedding, and I should not have to be worried about their opinions.

I want to enjoy this moment.

They met Tia at our reception dinner last night and she played her role of doting fiancée perfectly. So perfectly that it left my family in shock. Everyone, that is, except Oleg.

In the hotel room, my brothers and sister and sitting with me as I get ready for my wedding. My little sister, Anya, is draped over the daybed, sipping the last of the champagne from the bottle that was sitting on ice.

"I still can't believe you convinced such a beautiful girl to marry you," Alexei, my fiery, spontaneous brother says. He's usually the one to make jokes and tease people, so I've been waiting for his snarky remarks. I raise my brows towards him.

"What?" he asks.

"I'm waiting for your stupid comment."

He chuckles. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I was being dead serious. She's far too good for you."

"Hmph." I snort out a breath.

"Also, why are you corrupting the company's employees?" Anya, my baby sister chuckles.

"Good point," Alexei nods. "You turned an innocent girl to the underworld."

"Oh shut up, both of you. We love each other—isn't that all that matters?"

Oleg has been watching our conversation closely, leaning against the bar of the hotel room where I am getting ready.

I pull the collar of my black suit straight and Oleg pushes off the counter and walks over to me.

"You two, give us a moment," he says, nodding towards my brother and sister.

"Whatever." Anya rolls her eyes. "I want champagne anyway."

She grabs Alexei's arm and pulls him out with her.

"What's the problem?" I ask Oleg as his focus intensifies on me.

He steps closer and starts straightening my collar for me.

"Why are you doing this, Yefim? You know she isn't suited to our world. She's too young, too innocent. It's a terrible idea."

"You're overthinking everything, Oleg," I shrug.

"I'm not. I know something is going on. She isn't in love with you. You didn't manage to win the heart of someone like her," he says coldly.

"Why the fuck not? Why can't someone like me be loved by someone like her?" I snarl angrily, brushing his hand away from my collar.

He steps back, raising his hands in the air. "Yefim, all I'm saying is that I know something is going on, and I'm asking you—begging you—to be careful. You don't even know her. You don't know how she is going to handle it as she learns more and more about you. This is so risky. You aren't known to take such risks. From Alexei, I would have said fine, I expect that from him—but not from you."

Oleg is stressed. His shoulders are tense.

I feel bad for doing that to him, but also, I can't stop any of this.

I want her.

I'm obsessed with her, and she is about to become my wife.

"Everything will be fine, Oleg. I promise you."

He shakes his head.

"I'll see you out there," he says, walking towards the door.

I stand alone in the hotel room for a moment, processing everything.

Today is a good day for me.

I need to focus on the positives.

I pull my jacket on, straightening the sleeves, then take one last look in the mirror before I head out of the hotel, towards the church.

My mind is playing tricks on me, making me question if I'm doing the right thing for my family. If the risk I'm taking is putting them in some kind of danger.

These thoughts continue to plague me as I stand at the end of the aisle, staring at the closed church doors.

The organ begins to play, the guests stand, and the church doors open.

And every single doubt in my mind disintegrates.

Tia steps into the church, the white wedding dress flowing over her full, curvaceous figure, my eyes trying to take the vision of her in all at once.

She is so beautiful she has literally stunned me.

I'm staring like a mad man, a fool, the most ridiculous grin on my face as I realize that every single person in this church is seeing how gorgeous she is—and every single one of them knows she is going to be my wife.

Oleg, standing behind me, leans close and whispers, "You are playing with fire, brother."

I don't even bother responding. I don't care what he thinks. I don't care if there is a risk. I don't care if the entire world burns to the ground.

I want her.

She walks towards me and it feels as though the entire world is moving in slow motion.

She is too perfect, too beautiful—so innocent—and mine .

Tia stands in front of me, a nervous smile on her lips, her long dark lashes fluttering over her lowered eyes.

The priest begins talking, addressing the crowd, who are all seated now. He talks about family, commitment, love and giving your life to one person. The beauty of marriage and having someone your soul can live life with.

I listen, but I hardly hear his words because I'm mesmerized by her.

I can't seem to get enough of her in this dress. This moment. I want it engraved in my memory for all eternity.

"Do you, Yefim Dubrov, take this woman, Tia Lawrence, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, until death do you part?"

My stomach flips with excitement.

"I do," I say loud and clear, staring right into her soul.

"Do you, Tia Lawrence, take this man, Yefim Dubrov, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, until death do you part?"

Her body tenses, her lips pull tight, the crowd is deathly quiet. My heart has stopped beating.

"I do," she says, and my entire body rumbles with excitement.

"Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride," the priest says happily.

I step toward her, reaching out and pulling her tightly against me with my arm around her waist. I dip her backwards, lean over her and press my lips against hers.

My heart screams with triumph as our lips lock, and my entire body becomes alive with heated tension.

She reaches up and touches my cheek with her delicate fingers.

She is my wife, and I want her.

I pull her back to her feet and step slightly away from her so that I can admire her beauty. She is smiling perfectly, looking happy and in love.

I walk down the aisle with her against my side towards the reception, where they will take photos of us before the party begins.

Walking inside, we are guided towards a red sofa, shaped like a heart. I sit down on it and Tia sits on my lap.

I wrap my arm around her hips and pull her up against me. She is sitting right on my cock, and I can feel it growing hard. I know she can, too, but she ignores it.

We kiss for the camera, and people cheer and throw rose petals over us. My cock is throbbing, begging for our wedding night, when we can consummate this marriage.

When the photographer is finished taking pictures Tia tries to stand up, but I grip her tighter. "Don't you dare," I snarl.

"But the longer I sit here the harder it gets," she whispers, sounding a little panicked.

I chuckle. "It'll calm down. Just give me a moment. Unless you want to help me make it go away by disappearing for a moment, around the corner, where no one can see us."

Her eyes grow wide with shock. She doesn't like that idea at all, but I can't stop thinking about it. Since she kissed me in the church, I have been looking for every opportunity to steal her away and pull her wedding dress up over her hips so that I can slam my cock into her.

Her plump cheeks are burning bright red, and she doesn't look impressed with me.

Her innocence is fucking gorgeous.

I shake my head, grinning at her discomfort.

"My wife, you're teasing me."

"Then let me get off your lap."

"In a minute," I say, calmly, running my hand down her back to the curve above her ass.

She wiggles slightly, trying to escape my touch, but rubbing her ass against my cock. "That's not helping, sweetheart."

She gasps as she feels me grow even harder, and I push up against her.

In a flash of anger, which she manages to hide from anyone watching, she pushes off my lap. I stand up quickly after her and hold her against me.

"Walk with me to the table," I warn her, still grinning.

She stays in front of me, walking slowly through the crowd towards our table.

I slide into the seat and pull my chair closer to the table to hide my reaction to her. She takes her seat next to me and leans against me when the photographer comes past again.

I could almost believe that she loves me. I know all the guests believe it. She is playing the role perfectly for the public eye.

We eat dinner, we laugh, we dance, we drink, we have an incredible night. One that I will remember for a long time.

Then, at the end of the night, my mind very much focused on getting her into my bed, we climb into the back of the limo and the driver takes us home.

Outside my mansion, I lift Tia into my arms.

She squirms. "What are you doing?"

"I have to carry you over the threshold. It's tradition, my love."

She glances across at my security guard, nervously unsure if she has to carry on pretending in front of him or not.

She smiles and nods.

I carry her into the house, upstairs, to my bedroom.

I know how I want this night to end.

I close the bedroom door behind us and step towards her.

Finally, we're alone. I've been waiting for this moment.

Tia steps away from me, holding her hand against my chest.

All pretenses are gone. She looks cold and resistant.

None of her warmth or laughter remains, nothing of what she had on display all night.

"This isn't going to happen, Yefim," she warns me.

"Is it not?" I ask, pushing her hand away and pulling her against me.

She gets angry and smacks her clenched fist against my chest. "It's not happening, " she says with heated anger, squirming away from me.

I sigh, agitated and frustrated beyond words.

I force myself to step away from her, fighting for control over my needs.

I want her, but I want her to want me. If I force myself on her tonight, she will never forgive me. No matter how badly I want that from her, to feel her moving against me—I don't want to lose her. I have to patient.

Tia takes a breath of relief, some of the tension easing from her body.

She nervously steps around me, towards the bedroom door.

"I want my own room, Yefim. This house is massive. There is obviously a guest room I can use."

"Tia, you can sleep in my bed. I won't touch you." Even as I say the words, I understand that if she sleeps in my bed, it will be impossible not to touch her. I won't be able to control myself. It's too risky.

"No, you have to let me have my own room. Please, Yefim." She seems so desperate. "This was never part of the agreement."

It's for the best anyway.

Until she is ready, it's safer for her if she doesn't sleep next to me.

"Fine. Follow me," I say, my mouth pulling to the side in annoyance at the entire situation.

I lead her through to the room right next to mine. She can have her own space, but I am still keeping her close.

"It's set up for a guest, but tomorrow we can set it up however you want it—to make it comfortable for you. I will also have the housekeepers move all of your things into this room."

I stand in the doorway as she walks towards the bed, touching it with her hands.

"It's a beautiful room. It's—it's bigger than my entire apartment."

I step back, leaving the doorway empty.

"Goodnight, Tia."

She looks up at me and her eyes soften for a moment. She is grateful that nothing more happened. Relived. I'm glad I made the right choice. Losing her, pushing her away now, when things have only just begun—it would have been a nightmare for me.

"Good night, Yefim. Thank you."

I nod, then pull her bedroom door closed, briefly wondering if I should lock it in case she changes her mind and tries to leave during the night.

No, she needs me. She needs the arrangement to stay intact.

She needs to clear her debt and stay safe.

I walk back to my own room, more sexually frustrated than I have ever been in my life. I can't believe I don't get to sleep with my wife on our wedding night.

But I have her. She is married to me now. She has my surname, she belongs to me.

I strip out of my suit and flop down onto the bed, naked, tired after a long day and wanting something I can't have.

"Be patient, Yefim," I tell myself, rolling onto my side and pulling the blankets over my body. "Be patient, it will be worth it, I promise you."

I grin as I close my eyes, drifting off to sleep, dreaming of her sitting on my lap in a red heart-shaped chair, but no one else is around, and her lingerie tears away easily as I rip it from her body.