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CHAPTER 29

Naomi


I couldn’t help it. When he made reference to me being his wife, it did something to me. There was no one around right now, no reason for him to pretend, but I felt like Gavril was looking at me as Naomi, not Sveta, and that thrilled me to no end.


After weeks of him being cold and distant, I didn’t feel it right now. He was warm, teasing even. And I wanted to freeze time for moments like this.


Gavril’s lips were on my neck, lightly sucking on the sensitive spot right below my ear, and I shivered. “You like that,” he murmured against my skin, his hand now flattened against my side. “Don’t you?”


I played with the slightly curling ends of his hair at the nape of his neck, angling my neck to give him better access. “I like a lot of things you do, Mr. Kirilenko.”


His hand roamed up my side underneath my shirt, finding the lace edging of my bra. “Do you now?” he asked. “Care to share?”


I gasped as his hand moved to the front of my chest, cupping my breast. “How about I tell you when you do something wrong instead?”


He chuckled. “I have no doubt that you will.”


Leaning down, I took his earlobe between my teeth. “Is that bedroom still in the back?”


Gavril hissed through his teeth. “It is.”


My stomach tightened with need, but I forced myself to get off his lap, crooking a finger at him to follow me. Right now, I needed to feel him all over me, to hang onto what we had done in the shower last night and not lose Gavril to whatever horrors awaited us when he got back to LA.


Thankfully, he must have felt the same because he undid his seat belt and followed me to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Would you care to join me in the mile-high club?” I asked in my most sultry voice before bursting into laughter. “I’m sorry! I’ve always wanted to say that.”


A rusty laugh escaped Gavril and I basked in it, watching as his face grew youthful, the harsh edges evening out. This was the Gavril I wanted to know.


“I hate to tell you.” He wiped a hand over his face. “This won’t be the first time for me.”


Of course it wasn’t. I shouldn’t be surprised.


“Well,” I replied as I closed the distance between us, my fingers working the buttons on his shirt. “But it will be for me.”


His eyes were filled with warmth as he gazed down at me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “In that case,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Let’s make this moment one to remember.”


My heart flipped over in my chest, but I focused on my task, succeeding in getting his shirt off so that I could touch his bare chest.


Last night had been about what he needed.


Now, it was about what I wanted.


I wanted this to be an experience he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. When I reached for his belt, Gavril quirked a brow. “Are you trying to get me naked?”


I stood on my tiptoes, brushing my lips over his. “It’s my favorite look on you.”


Another laugh. Each one I locked in a little box inside my heart, treasuring it. When he laughed, it meant I was making him happy, and that was all that mattered to me.


I succeeded in getting his pants off and pointed toward the bed. “Get on the bed.”


Gavril didn’t object, and I got a good eyeful of his finely sculpted ass as he did so. Quickly, I shed my own clothing and climbed on top of him, his cock butting against my stomach.


“Beautiful,” he said, his large hands cupping my breasts, molding them to his liking. “Absolutely beautiful. Look at you.”


“And you,” I murmured, my nails sliding down his chest, over the scars that made Gavril who he was. “Perfection.”


He chuckled, his eyes warm. “I think we need to get your eyes checked.”


“I’m serious.” I shook my head. “Everything about you is perfect.”


Even his soul that he tried so desperately to hide. I had seen glimpses of him, his true self with his sisters, and it was nothing like the monster who married me.


Something crossed his gaze that had my chest tightening, but I leaned down and captured his lips with mine, our kiss slow and unhurried, like we had all the time in the world. I savored his lips and his tongue like I was starving. I wanted to drown myself in him—in my Gavril, my husband.


His hands roamed from my breasts to my shoulders, then down my back, a gentle pressure against my skin that sent goose bumps all over my body. Gavril was the first one to break the kiss, his breathing as harsh as mine was. “I need you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. “I need you so fucking badly, Naomi.”


My soul sang at the use of my name, and though deep down I knew that I would be Sveta when the plane landed, it meant the world to me that he saw me.


Me. Naomi Spencer. A second-rate actress who needed to find another profession.


Me, the one who was likely in love with him, and it terrified me.


“What’s wrong?”


I realized that Gavril had pulled away to look at me, worry in his gaze. “Nothing,” I answered, giving him a little smile. “I was just thinking about you, about us.”


Some of the worry eased from his eyes, and I distracted him by lifting my body upward so that I could slide down on his cock. “Fuck, Naomi,” he groaned, his hands going to my hips. “You are so tight.”


I gasped as I fully sheathed him inside, letting my body get used to the intrusion. My pussy was already wet with both anticipation and need. And I let out a whimper of pleasure as I started rocking against him.


“That’s it,” Gavril urged as he allowed me to ride him. “Come for me, love.”


Love. That was what I felt for him. I loved him.


I quickened my pace, my hips moving almost on their own—driven by an animal need as my body indulged in every detail of our coupling. His hands found my hips and took control. The pressure from my arousal grew inside of me and I fell into him, holding on for dear life.


“Yes,” I whispered. And the whisper became louder. And louder. And louder until it became a long-sustained note. “YES!”


Suddenly, our weight shifted and I found myself upright as Gavril picked me up. He held me in the air as his cock drove deep into my core. Waves of pleasure crashed across my body as his mouth closed around mine. Our tongues danced as he fucked me, and I could feel the lust for him deep in my body. My legs wrapped tighter around him, driving him to touch me in places that no man had ever touched. To make him claim me like no man could ever claim.


Suddenly we were falling, and the bed enveloped me as the two of us fell into crumpled sheets. I looked up from underneath him, staring up at his gorgeous profile. With one long move, he pulled out of me, only to plunge back in.


“I love—” I gasped as he filled me to the core. “I love this.”


Why? Why did I say that? I wanted to say I loved him—I did love him. But somehow, I stopped myself. The admission was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. Was it because I knew that one day he would crush my heart? That was why I didn’t say the words aloud.


Right?


Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance