Dmitry glanced at me, and I felt my cheeks heat at how observant he was.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just thinking about tonight and seeing an underground fight for the first time.” The partial truth.
He was silent for a moment, then said, “I hate to break it to you, detka, but you’re a terrible liar.”
He placed his hand on my thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the bare skin that was exposed from my skirt rising.
I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of when I’d come out of the bathroom, wearing the faux leather skirt that fell to midthigh, my white bodysuit skintight and not hiding that I was braless.
When he’d growled low that he could see my nipples, I scoffed and placed my hands on my hips, informing him you couldn’t wear a bra with this outfit because it would show lines.
But to placate him, I’d thrown on a black crop jacket to cover my chest.
He’d shook his head, pointing to the bathroom and telling me to change. I’d tried the route of telling him this wasn’t how the marriage was going to work.
When that didn’t deter him, I went to wound his male pride and agreed to go change since it was clear he didn’t think he could protect me.
He narrowed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and finally exhaled, running a hand over his jaw, and relented.
I smiled. He shook his head again and muttered under his breath that he was going to end up having to kill somebody tonight because they were checking me out.
I smiled at the memory and placed my hand on top of his as he kept stroking my thigh. With my palm over his, I wasn’t trying to push him away.
I wanted to keep Dmitry exactly where he was, that heavy weight warm and so comforting that it washed away my anxiousness that was like a cement block inside of me.
We sat in silence, but my body was slowly heating the more he stroked his thumb back and forth over my thigh. He slid his hand up, pushing my skirt with it.
I shifted, squirmed on the leather seat. My breathing increased, and I glanced at Dmitry to see him looking calm and collected.
He had one hand on the steering wheel, the light from the dashboard illuminating his profile. God, he looked so damn good. I’d never seen a man more attractive than my husband.
Tonight he wore a pair of dark slacks that showed off his tree trunk–sized thighs and muscular physique. The sleeves of his dark gray button-down shirt were rolled up his defined, tattooed forearms.
I stared at the ring finger of his left hand, one that now had a plain platinum band encircling it.
When one of the young Russian boys came by early in the morning for Sasha, and Dmitry had been in the shower, I’d put my plan in motion. I’d asked the man for a favor before handing over my bank card.
But he’d shook his head, declining my card. I’d felt dejected for a second, but when he told me it would be his honor to get his Pakhan’s wife what she needed, I stood there with my mouth open.
And then he was gone, returning two hours later with what I’d asked for. I’d been holding a black leather box in hand, my husband’s new wedding band inside, and not able to help but smile.
I’d seen the ring at one store when Dmitry had taken me shopping after we’d gotten married.
I got a glimpse of what Dmitry felt when he talked about marking me… owning me when he was deep in my body. Because seeing him wearing that wedding band… yeah. It did things to me.
I bit my lip again, nibbling on the flesh as he crept his hand higher until he was smoothing a finger up and down my center, right over my panties.
“So wet for me, baby girl.”
I rested my head back on the seat and closed my eyes, a soft moan leaving me when he added pressure to my clit.
My inner muscles clenched painfully, and I felt more wetness spill from my body to prepare for something only Dmitry could give me.
“Let’s see how fast I can make my wife come.” He took the highway, accelerating his speed at the same time he teased the edge of my panties and pulled the material aside.
And then he was touching my bare pussy, slipping his fingers through my soaked cleft before teasing my entrance and dipping a finger inside.
I clenched around the digit, and he groaned, shifting on his seat and increasing the car’s speed even more.
Oh God. Why was this all so hot?
With his skilled fingers, he kept a finger lodged in my pussy, twisted his wrist slightly so he could rub my clit with his thumb, and started working me over.