Chapter 4

Alexei

My home office door is open as I struggle to read some contracts. Normally I do my work in an office downtown, where my secretary can keep things organized and the home office is more like a library. Now nothing is organized and whatever's on the papers in front of me may as well be Mandarin, which I don't speak.

I'm slowly going insane.

It's the third time today Sera's walked past my open door wearing tiny little running shorts and a top that shows a sliver of her bare, smooth belly. This time she pauses right outside, making a little noise of frustration as she leans over to pick something up that she's dropped. My eyes zone in on her pert ass, then glaze over as all my muscles tense. In ten strides I could be over there, gripping her hips, pushing those little shorts down and plunging deep inside her tight little body.

Yeah, I know frustration. We've become well acquainted over the last two weeks since the wedding.

Other than dinners together, I have no idea what Sera gets up to when she's not inadvertently tempting me as she flits around the apartment in barely there loungewear or yoga outfits, or Jesus Christ, an almost sheer nightie. Granted, she looked shocked to be caught in the kitchen at four in the morning but we both had insomnia and were looking for a snack at the same time.

I think I might have growled when I saw her peachy nipples under the nightie. I don't know. She grabbed a box of crackers and fled, but that image of all that skin … I'm slowly going insane. I could have followed her to her room, but I'm going to let her approach me when she's ready.

So far she hasn't complained or caused any ruckus and her security detail only reports back that when she does leave the apartment, she gets her shopping done or spends hours in the library. It seems I no longer have any reason to be suspicious of her, so I'm left with this voracious hunger instead. She has a magnetic aura that draws me in like nothing I've ever experienced before.

I can't figure her out and it drives me even more crazy than constantly wanting to touch her. It tweaks my problem solving nature, with Sera as the ultimate puzzle with one missing piece.

"You okay out there?" I call, tearing my eyes from her perfect backside.

She jumps and spins to face me in the doorway, tugging at her top. Now it covers her stomach but more of her lush cleavage is exposed. Sera has great tits. Small, plush, with taut nipples that seem to pucker every time I glance at them. Which is a lot. I lick my lips and stifle a groan.

"Just dropped my book."

"Did you get it from the library today?" Fuck, now she'll know her security reports back to me.

She doesn't seem to notice my mistake and holds up an extremely boring looking textbook. "It's on first aid and emergency nursing," she says.

"Come in here," I demand. Her skin goes pale and she takes a step in, making me laugh. "Sorry. Please," I add after the fact. "What's with all the medical books?" I have a sudden hunch and I don't like it at all. "Were you going to college before your father forced this marriage on us?"

Now she looks a little hurt and I realize I've just admitted how I feel about the pretext of our relationship. "What does he have on you?" she asks.

I roll my eyes. "I asked first."

"No, I wasn't in school." She looks at her massive textbook sadly. "It's just a pipe dream."

I'm about to argue. Becoming an international pop star when you can't sing is a pipe dream. Living life in the mafia without having to resort to violence from time to time is a pipe dream. But Sera's smart and driven. Even with just two weeks together, I can see that. Why is becoming a medical professional something she views as unattainable? I'm about to push for an explanation when my phone buzzes. Unfortunately, it's Niko, which means I have to answer it. Before I can tell her to give me two minutes, she waves and scurries out.

I barely refrain from taking my frustration out on my second-in-command, and after all his updates and the reminder I have meeting today, I don't have time to think about Sera for a while.

Rain is coming down in fits and starts when I arrive back to the apartment later that evening and Sera is waiting with a roasted chicken ready to serve. The temperature dropped when the clouds rolled in, so now she's wearing skin-tight jeans and a baggy sweater that keeps slipping off one shoulder as she puts things on the table.

"You didn't have to cook," I say. Her meals are delicious, but I have a cook on my payroll. I don't like Sera thinking she has to do things for me.

"I like to," she answers. "I didn't get to do it much at home."

"Why not?"

"Don't you like it?" she asks at the same time.

We both laugh. "Everything you've made is amazing," I say truthfully.

She doesn't answer my question but I know why. It's the same reason I wasn't allowed to do many of the things I enjoyed when I was younger. Having an asshole for a father is like that.

We settle into comfortable conversation, once again dodging anything meaningful, when a loud crack of thunder rattles the windows.

Sera jumps with a start in her seat, the color draining from her cheeks. Jagged lightning streaks down over the buildings and the electricity flickers out just as more thunder rolls through the building. The lights come back on and I look over to see her gripping the edges of the table, eyes wide as she stares out at the dark sky as the rain begins to really lash at the windows.

"We're pretty high up," she says.

Before I can reassure her that this building can more than withstand a routine rainstorm, a particularly close and blinding burst of lightning sends her scurrying to her room. More thunder follows and I hurry after her to see if she's okay.

I find her huddling under a blanket, pressed up against the headboard of her bed. The overhead and bedside table lights are on and I can see she's quaking with fear. It's bizarre—she didn't seem this nervous on our wedding night, but it seems the storm is putting her on edge.

When she sees me, she groans and shakes her head. "Don't look at me."

"Sera, we're perfectly safe," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. Shockingly, her hand snakes out from under the covers to grab mine.

"I know that in my brain," she says. "I know it's stupid to be scared of storms. But I am. I always used to run and hide in my sister's room and she'd read to me—even as an adult."

She looks utterly miserable and I move closer. "You want me to read to you?" I know she's too stubborn to acquiesce so before she can say anything, I grab the textbook from her bedside table and open it to the marked page. "Can I stretch out?"

She nods, holding the blanket up so I can get comfortable next to her. After a few minutes of reading aloud, her head slowly rests on my shoulder. With each rumble of thunder she stiffens and looks out the windows with wide eyes, but I keep plodding along until she relaxes.

After a while, I think she might be sleeping. The book is so boring I'd be out like a light if the nearness of her wasn't keeping me on edge. I trail off on a sentence about suturing and slowly ease away.

"No," she says, grabbing my hand again. "Don't go until it's over." She nestles closer and I put my arm around her—just so it has somewhere to go.

Her soft body is so delicate next to mine. The way her cheek rests against my chest has my heart pounding double time. I begin to stroke her hair, shoving the book away to mutter soothing noises to her instead. A sheet of paper couldn't fit between us and with each new thunderclap she only clings tighter. I can't help myself and drop a kiss on the top of her head.

Slowly going insane.

Once the storm fizzles out to nothing but a gentle patter of rain on the windows, I tuck some of her hair behind her ear, expecting to get my marching orders. Instead, she looks up at me, searching my face with her ice blue eyes. I trail a finger down her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck, and her eyes drift closed as she sighs. When she opens them again, her gaze falls on my lips and hers part.

"You're killing me," I whisper. "I want to kiss you so damn bad."

"I never expected this," she says. "For you to be so kind. I've never been on a date. I've never even been with a man like this …" She looks down, her feathery lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. "I'm not like my father," she says, so low I almost don't hear.

"I know," I say, fighting back the primal satisfaction of knowing I'm the only one to have been near my wife like this. "I'm not like mine, either."

She looks back up at me and moves that inch closer that I needed. Wrapping my fingers in her hair I lean down and our lips touch. Now the storm is inside me, and it takes everything I have to hold back. She presses closer with a sigh into my mouth and when my tongue reaches to touch hers, her hand curls into my shirt.

As innocent and clumsy as she is, she's inflaming me with her sudden greed. One hand moves up and down my chest while the other reaches for my hair. Her soft noises, her body undulating against mine is better than anything I've ever experienced.

"You taste so good," I say as I drag my kisses down her throat. I slide my hands down her arms. "And you're so fucking soft. Like velvet, Sera."

She melts against the pillows as I lick along the edge of her top, one hand sliding under to cup her through her bra. She rises slightly against my palm and I work my way under the fabric to tweak her nipple, both of us groaning when it rises to a tight peak.

I keep moving lower, driven by a prehistoric need.

"What are you doing?" she asks when I reach her jeans and tug on the button, still tasting every inch of her skin.

"Let me give you something," I say, unzipping to reveal a triangle of white cotton that makes me go blind with lust for a second. "Trust me, Sera."

She goes very still and a moment passes where I only breathe against her mound. "I trust you," she says. "I do."

I do. Just like at our wedding.

I yank the jeans down and toss them away to settle between her trembling thighs. I nudge her white panties with my nose and nuzzle her clit through the fabric. Her legs tense and she grabs at my hair again. I have to see her, lick her, make her mine.

It's about damn time.

"Your pussy is so wet for me," I say as I ease her panties to the side.

"Alexei," she moans.

I lick her slit and she squeezes her legs around my shoulders with a yelp. This is amazing and this is torture because my cock is harder than steel and straining to be inside her. I plunge deep inside her with my tongue, gripping her hips to keep her still as she rocks beneath me. She's tight around my tongue and it makes me growl with anticipation.

"Let it happen, Sera," I say, circling her clit as I trace my gaze up over her body to meet her wide eyes.

"Alexei," she says again, her mind lost in her pleasure. I could hear her say my name over and over again for eternity and be happy. I could definitely stay here between her legs until the end of time.

I press harder, lap at her, then ease back so much that she actually smacks me in the head. I laugh against her wet heat, and continue to tease her body, to give this sweet angel her first ever orgasm as a married woman, perhaps her first orgasm ever. The thought that I'm her first makes me pulse with possessiveness. I want to make her mine and only mine.

"Come for me, baby," I demand, dragging her closer to my mouth.

She shudders, pulls my hair, moaning and panting until she screams, all her muscles stiff. My cock pulses desperately and I think I might come just from watching her experience the bliss I've given her. I keep going until she's limp and her hands fall to her sides.

I collapse against her thigh, my own brain broken and my body in a state of upheaval. I'm hard as a rock, so close to coming myself that I'm almost surprised I didn't. The insistent throb of my cock is the only thing keeping me grounded as I look over her Sera's flushed form.

"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" I mutter.

"What did you do to me?" she asks in return, a note of wonder in her voice. "That was a very nice gift, thank you."

I laugh weakly. "We've never even gone on a date."

"You could probably count the wedding reception."

I fake a snarl at her. "I don't count that. Let's start from here, Sera. What do you think?"

She runs her fingers through my hair and looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, would you like to go to dinner with me? Or to one of my clubs? No, dinner. I don't want anyone looking at your gorgeous body on the dance floor. You're all mine."

Her cheeks glow red and for a second I think I see a flicker of doubt in her eyes which she blinks away. "I'd love to go to dinner with you."

"It's a date, then," I tell her. Getting up, I lean down and kiss her forehead, then her lips. "Goodnight."

Is that disappointment on her face now?

Good.

Because I still want her to come to me when she's really ready, not because I've worked her into a frenzy. It takes me a long time to fall asleep, thinking about Sera with her taste on my tongue, but suddenly, this marriage doesn't seem so fraught with tension anymore.