22. Mila

22

MILA

A lek limped with my assistance, but I worried what would happen on the sidewalks. He'd been in better health and was uninjured when those cartel members tried to stop us on our way to our wedding. Now, he was still in pain, shot and beaten, and not as fast to fight. If anyone tried to bother us on the return trip to the apartment, it would be up to me to somehow defend us.

I'd gotten lucky with that shot at his cousin. I'd killed Andrey because he was within such a close range. It was still a miracle of a shot. I knew how to operate a gun, but my aim and accuracy left much to be improved.

I didn't need to worry for long. Maxim saw us to the first floor and led us back to a garage exit. A car was waiting for us, and it was only then that I realized we might not be going back to the first place where he'd kept me.

Alek held the door open for me to enter the passenger side. After he shut the door, he rounded the car with his brother. They continued to speak in hushed tones, but their conversation was over by the time my husband opened the driver's door and got in with a deep wince of pain.

"It would be better to keep moving," he said for an explanation after he started the car and drove out of the garage.

"In here?" I asked, feeling stupid to misinterpret what he'd said. Of course, we wouldn't just stay in the car.

"We'll go to another hideout," he replied dryly, still wincing at the moment as he flexed his arm.

I'd wondered if he'd move me somewhere else after Yusef had burst in through the window, but as I thought back to all that had happened, it dawned on me that the incident had only happened yesterday. Not even a full twenty-four hours ago. Time had blurred so fast, so many things happening so quickly with a violent pace of life and death.

In the blink of an eye, I was married. Before that, I'd suddenly lost my virginity. Just as rapidly and unexpectedly, I'd killed a man.

My life was becoming a tumbled series of unfortunate and bizarre events, and all I could do was hold on and make the best of it that I could. I'd wished so desperately for another option. When my father told me that I would need to marry Andrey, then later, when he instructed that I report to him after my marriage, I'd dug deep and wished from the bottom of my heart for an alternative to my fate, that someone else from the bratva could be the bride, that a marriage could wait. Anything.

It turned out that there was something else waiting for me. Marriage. Murder.

Alek. I turned and watched him drive as he eventually pulled into another underground parking area. This garage was darker and seemed more abandoned, but with the anchored cameras on the walls and the shadows of men patrolling in the area, I knew this place was more secure. It had to be a residential property within the Valkov territory.

"Will we be protected here?"

"My men will keep us safe," he replied as he parked close to an elevator.

" Your men?" Already, he was assuming the position of power over his Pakhan. I'd killed Andrey for him in the spur of a moment. That was one of the two figureheads gone, but Pavel was still out there. He would be furious by now, hearing about our wedding and his son's death.

A death you took the blame for. I wouldn't forget how he'd protected me, taking the blame.

"Close friends and soldiers who have listened to me for the last seven years while my uncle neglected his power," he said as we walked toward the elevator. He limped slightly, but he didn't look like he needed my assistance to move inside.

Once we were in the elevator, I took in the details. Clean floors. Sleek, mirrored walls. If just this elevator looked so nice and well-maintained, I wondered what this new place would be like.

"They swear their loyalty to me." He reached out and took my hand in a rough grip as we rose to the upper floors. "My uncle will not be happy with the news."

I smirked at him. "No, really?"

He sighed. "But it had to be done."

I squinted. "Is this your way of thanking me for saving your life?"

He sobered, studying me closely as the elevator came to a stop. "Why did you?"

I swallowed hard, put on the spot to explain myself. It was simple, even though I felt vulnerable to admit it. "I didn't want you to die yet."

" Yet ?" He led me out of the elevator car into a hallway lined with plush carpet. At the end of the corridor, he opened a door to a spacious apartment. With actual rooms and décor, this looked like a home. It was a far cry from the one-room abode where Yusef shattered all the glass and informed me of the hit placed on me.

"I didn't run," I shot back as I surveyed the large living room and took in the details of this new place.

"Why not?"

I let my shoulders droop in defeat. On one hand, I was grateful that he wasn't giving me a chance to say that I hadn't considered taking off. On the other hand, I was nervous to tell him that I needed him. I couldn't have run and lost his protection after I'd killed the heir to the Valkov Bratva. Because it wasn't only a matter of needing this strong, protective man. It was quickly becoming a matter of wanting him against my better judgment.

"Because I wanted to stay. With you."

He grunted in reply, pulling me through the apartment and into the bathroom. "Any good at stitches?" he asked.

I grimaced but nodded regardless. "A few times, my…" I wasn't sure what to call Rosamund. "I was expected to help with some injuries." Telling him that I had been required to do my best and stitch up Rosamund's split flesh would instill much confidence in my abilities. "I can try," I amended.

He turned, working on removing his jacket, and I got closer to help him get his garments off. Blood had the fabric sticking to his skin, and he sat on the bench in the voluminous bathroom while I wiped off the blood and sweat. Over and over, I dipped a washcloth into the sink. Red, then pink, the basin filled with his blood until it was mostly clear.

Unlike the other apartment, this one was stocked with ample first-aid supplies, and I had more than enough to work with to begin stitching him. I doubted the topical cream numbed his flesh adequately, but he didn't flinch as I did my best to sew up the gash on his shoulder and back. I was no doctor, but I was certain I was helping, not hurting, the situation.

"Is this…" I sighed, hoping to settle my nerves. I'd done the hard, squeamish part already. I'd sewn up his wound. As the quiet and lack of fighting filled the air around us, my emotions swarmed over me, consuming me with too many thoughts, worries, and questions. Flashbacks of pulling the trigger on Andrey haunted me, and I fidgeted under the enormity of all that had happened.

I was married.

I was a killer.

I would be wanted, already with one hit on my head, but damned more so for killing Pavel's son.

"Is this where we will live?" I finished asking. I needed to focus on something, anything, now that I was done concentrating on sewing Alek's shoulder and back wound. If I let this quiet get to me, if I gave in to this idle calm and allowed my mind to wander, I'd go restless and crazy.

"No." He stood, turning to face me.

Without a shirt on, he cut a sharp contrast to my mostly white attire. Strips of the ribbons from my skirts were missing, but only minimal blood marred the shirt he'd given me. His taut skin glowed, tanned and healthy, but the suggestion of his being closer to nudity alerted me to wanting to see—and feel—more.

"I have a few other places." He lifted his hand to tip my chin up, and I blinked at the somber need in his eyes. "We'll find something together. A marital house."

I struggled to swallow, my mouth suddenly dry at the intensity of his stare. We simply gazed at each other as too many unsaid things passed in the air between us.

From him, I saw gratitude, maybe even something like respect or admiration. I wasn't going to wait for him to thank me for saving his life. I had yet to tell him thanks for saving mine, too, and he had in more ways than one. He'd spared me from getting married to an abusive man like his cousin. He'd gotten me away from my father's reach.

If anything, it was I who owed him. Those nerves built and stretched, making me suddenly more anxious and unsettled. He saw the uneasiness in my eyes, and he gripped my elbow, tugging me toward him as he backed us out of the bathroom.

I was his property now. His to move as he wanted, to do with as he pleased.

For the first time, the idea of being his—completely his—thrilled me.

I was Alek's wife, not some used-up virgin he'd taken.

I was his woman.

His other half.

"Remember what I promised?"

I stumbled, looking deep into his dark brown eyes as he led me further from the bathroom and toward what seemed to be a richly decorated yet masculine bedroom. Lights were dimmed low, but I wasn't stumbling in the dark. I reached for him, anyway, hanging my arm around his neck and careful not to touch the tender flesh I'd just sewn up and bandaged.

"You've made no promises," I argued, hoping I sounded playful, not scared.

"You didn't run," he reminded me as he picked up my hand and kissed the spot where my wedding band rested on my finger. "And I told you if you didn't think about running…" He pushed me.

I stepped away slightly, and as the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I lost my balance and tumbled onto the king-size bed. Captured by his smoldering look, I scrambled to sit up and watch him, unable to tear my attention away for a single second.

His fingers made quick work of his pants. He unzipped and lowered his clothes, and his long, hard dick sprang free.

I moaned, so low and quiet, I doubted he could hear, but he saw me rub my thighs together.

"I told you if you didn't run, you could have this."

I exhaled a shaky breath, watching him rub his fist up and down his shaft. Already, the tip leaked drops of precum, and I licked my lips in anticipation.

He was right. I wouldn't have considered it a promise, per se, but he had taunted me and left me unsatisfied in the other apartment. He'd led me on, teased me to a dripping, sex-crazed mess, and aborted seeing me come.

I was more than eager to have him now. If he was offering, I'd take anything to chase away the tumultuous visions filling my mind. Sex would grant me a reprieve from dwelling on the horror of what I'd done.

I'd killed someone. With my actions, I'd instigated more danger. I'd accused him of causing war, but I'd incited it even more by killing Andrey.

I'd made my choice, though, and I would stand by my man. In all his naked, rugged glory.

I stood, stripping as quickly as I could without taking my eyes off him. His dark stare roved up and down me, appreciative and needy until I was naked for him.

Once more, he pushed me until I reclined, and he crawled over me, covering me with his body. He didn't last long, grimacing with the pressure of putting weight on his forearm.

"You'll tear your stitches," I worried aloud, and he growled, gritting his teeth as he realized that same fact. In a quick tuck and roll, he repositioned us. He lay back and dragged me over him, and I followed his lead.

His hot hands touched me everywhere, his fingers tweaking my nipples, his palms cupping my breasts, then my ass and my hips.

He gripped the back of my neck, tugging me down to kiss him hard, and I again followed. His guidance taught me how to move, where to go. I straddled him, instinctively grinding down against his long erection that rubbed my sensitive skin. Each back-and-forth rub I rode over him spread my cream. Slick and sticky, wet and chilled when I moved back, I showed us both how aroused I was for him.

"Ride me, Wife."

I opened and closed my mouth, ready to tell him I didn't know how. But it was a lie I couldn't voice aloud. This would be my first time on top, but deep inside, charged with a flaming need to sink down on him, my body knew. I would figure it out with his instructions.

I snagged my lower lip between my teeth and scooted back to grip him. All the veins teased me, enticing me to explore this first touch of my hand on his cock. The texture intrigued me, so hard yet soft, like steel covered with velvet, but he wasn't a patient teacher.

"Fuck me, Mila. Right now." He dug his fingers into my hips as he directed me to line his cockhead to my pussy.

I moaned at the dragging friction of his dick over my clit, and I considered prolonging this exquisite torture. It felt too good. So naughty. I obeyed his order, though, shifting and getting closer to notch the wide, bulbous head to my soaking wet entrance. A few gentle rocks back and forth helped me get a stable stance over him, and I sank down just a bit to let him spear into me that far and stretch me open.

"Oh…" I leaned my head back, craning my neck as the tingles of pleasure streaked up my body. From the tension in my womb to the aching peaks of my nipples, I felt on fire and sizzling.

"Fuck me, Wife ," he ordered. He wasn't going to wait. Even though he'd insisted that I get on top so he wouldn't injure himself any further, he took over. His fingers clutched at my skin with a punishing grip that would bruise. Holding on to my hips, he held me in place to thrust his cock deeper inside me.

"Alek!" I cried out, half from shock and half from overwhelming excitement. That rough shove into my cunt felt damned good. He was just so thick, so big, and the feeling of being crammed full with his dick thrilled me.

"Fuck me. Now."

I sank down, letting my knees slide over the mattress and widen my opening to him. Shivering and trembling, I lowered until he was seated all the way inside me. I stared at him, reveling in the tortured look of need in his eyes. After a brief moment to catch my breath at this deeper angle, I lifted up and sank back down on him.

I wasn't graceful as I learned my rhythm, but eventually, as I followed the cues from my body and the intense pressure of the orgasm I chased, I figured it out.

He held my hips, urging me to ride him faster and harder, grinding down and rubbing my clit against him. When he lifted his fingers to that hard bud of need, he helped me get there further. Every filthy word he said pushed me toward letting go, and when I did, crying out and clenching around his jerking dick as he came with me, bursts of light sparkled behind my closed lids.

I was a trembling, quivering mess of bliss, almost dizzy from the force of my release, but he didn't let me fall.

Gathering me in his arms, he pulled me down until I lay draped over him. And with his steady heartbeat thudding beneath my cheek, I rested my head on his chest and surrendered to the lure of sleep.