Page 15 of Between Us

“Are you on birth control?”

To Alessandra's virgin ears, the question was shockingly candid. Still, she answered. “Yes.”

Roman nodded, and to her relief, dropped the subject.

They remained on the patio for another few minutes. Alessandra admired the stars and Roman smoked a second cigarette, both of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

???

At a few minutes past midnight, Alessandra stood with one hand on the doorknob, working up the courage to step out of the bathroom. She had taken a shower, removed her makeup and changed into a silk nightie. The lingerie was a gift from Carmen, and even though she didn't think it had been given with pure intentions, she had nothing else to wear for a wedding night. She only had an overnight bag with her, the bulk of her clothes and personal items scheduled to be brought intomorrow afternoon.

Taking two deep breaths, she twisted the knob and opened the door. Roman was sitting on the king-sized bed, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. He looked up when he heard her return, his gaze moving from her face to the silk lingerie she was wearing.

Feeling her cheeks turn red from his attention, Alessandra quickly took a few steps to the other side of the bed, eager to get out of his line of vision. Roman stood and silently stepped into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Alessandra propped her back against the headboard and pulled the sheet up over her chest as she listened to the noises Roman made as he took a shower then used his electric toothbrush. The waiting did nothing to calm her nerves. Anxiety seized her, sending a surge of panic through her body as her thoughts reached a place she didn’t like.

What if it hurt too badly?

Was he going to be gentle on her first time?

Was he even going to care about her comfort?

As inexperienced as she was, Alessandra knew some men liked their sex rough and had no regard for the woman's pleasure. She'd heard enough stories from her married cousins and other female relatives to know it could sometimes go terribly awry—especially in a world where arranged, loveless marriages were the norm.

She remembered what her father had told her about Russians being violent by nature, and the nervousness she had been battling since they entered the master bedroom twisted her stomach into a tight knot.

She wondered if she’d feel any different were it Lucain that bathroom instead of Roman. At least she knew Luca. She knew that he could be gentle and loving. She knew that he’d never hurt her—not physically anyway. With Roman, everything was a Russian roulette.

She’d been curious about sex for a while now, and up until a month ago, she’d been excited and eager to experience it for the first time. But right now, she was torn, not knowing if she could still enjoy it with a different man from the one she envisioned in her random bouts of daydreaming.

She briefly contemplated asking Roman to sleep in another room tonight, but quickly dismissed that notion altogether. No mafia man in his position would ever agree to simply skip the sex without a good reason, and Alessandra had none of those except her own reluctance in the face of the unknown.

When Roman finally joined her in bed, wearing just a pair of black boxer briefs, Alessandra was a mass of cold, shivering limbs. He left the light on, and she fought the impulse to tell him that she wanted it off.

“You okay?” he asked in a neutral voice, as if them being in the same bed, half-naked, was perfectly natural. He studied her face, patiently waiting for an answer.

“I'm fine,” she said quietly, trying not to let her eyes wander south of his face. “Just nervous.”

“We'll take it slow.” He sounded calm. Confident.

Even though his cool and unrushed demeanor was meant to put her at ease, part of her hoped that maybe he was going to postpone the inevitable, seeing as she was just a bundle of nerves. That expectation quickly died out when he gestured her over. “Come here.”

Not wanting to upset her new husband and risk hiswrath, Alessandra let go of the sheet and did as she was told, despite the way her knees trembled as she moved toward him. She only intended to scoot a little closer to his side, but Roman had other things in mind. Grabbing her waist with both hands, he easily dragged her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips and her crotch in dangerous proximity to his. She exhaled a surprised breath—something between a gasp and a yelp—her hands going to his shoulders on instinct.

The feel of his strong, warm thighs beneath her chilled flesh felt alien. She had never been this intimate with another man before, not even Luca. Unable to hold his gaze this close, she looked down and noticed the eight-pointed star engraved on each of his shoulders, and another tattoo right above his abdomen—some sort of Cyrillic writing forming a half-circle.

Before she could analyze the meaning of them, Roman pulled her closer, positioning her where he really wanted her. Alessandra’s eyes widened when she felt the unmistakable outline of his erection between her parted legs, and her gaze fluttered up, barely able to focus on his face.

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, gently kissing the side of her neck. “What do you fear?”

“That it will hurt.” Her voice was little more than a rushed breath as her face flamed up with her embarrassment.

“It probably will,” he replied candidly, his lips slowly continuing their descent from her neck to her collarbone.

She felt a weak smile tug at her lips. If she weren’t so tense and awkward, she probably would have laughed. “You have a weird way of comforting me.”

He paused to look at her, his eyes darkened by lust. “If comforting means lying to you, I don't see why I would do it.”

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