Page 17 of Cruel Russian King
Even though I’d told her we would share a bedroom, I hadn’t slept in the same room with her that night,or the next, telling myself that I was swamped with work and I hardly ever slept in the damn room before anyway.
Three days had passed since I had married Ninel. I hadn't gone to the Rykov’s headquarters. I told Yegor and Zahkar that I was busy working on some deals and I'd be in and out of the state. I gave them their orders which they'd follow through with each day.
My days and nights were spent working from the home office, leaving Ninel to do her own thing. I didn't worry about her calling anyone since the only landline was in my office, locked behind a code when I wasn’t in it. And my phone was always locked as well.
A few more days passed, and I tracked her movements through the house and across the estate. She lingered in front of the paintings, fingertips dragging over the gilded frames like a caress, she fed the swans at the pond, scattering crumbs and smiling faintly as they rubbed against her legs. I wanted to kill the birds for touching her in a way I hadn't yet been able to.
Then one evening I lost track of her. Meetings I couldn't get away from pulled me away, and when I checked the cameras, she was gone. She wasn't in the house and I wasn't seeing her in the estate.
My blood went cold
My first thought was that she had escaped. I’d told her she wasn’t a prisoner and I was prepared to tear the world apart and drag her back. Whip her into submission if I had to, although something stabbed me in the chest just at the thought of laying a finger on her.
Then I'd put a fucking bullet in the skull of every guard for letting her escape.
My guards worked in shifts, twenty-four hours a day, and the security cameras covered every inch of the property. So if she had escaped someone wasn't doing their damn job.
Immediately, I called the guards. They told me she’d fallen asleep in the gazebo. My anger morphened to relief as I made my way to her with the intention to wake her and escort her to bed.
But when I reached she looked so peaceful, I had no desire to.
She was curled on a blanket, an empty wine bottle beside her, a book on ancient art forgotten at her side. I lifted her into my arms, with the blanket wrapped around her, and she melted against me. Her hands found their way around my neck clinging to me in her sleep.
My cock ached as I walked with her to our room. Once inside, I laid her on the bed, and covered her. Then I walked away, stripped in the guest bathroom, and took a brutal, cold shower until I had my damn cock under control.
Next morning, I was in the office, watching her prowl through the house, when she suddenly stormed into my office. I leaned back in my chair, lifting a brow. She braced both arms on my desk and glared down at me.
“Besides not being locked up in the bedroom, what are the conditions of this marriage?”
“You mean besides sharing my bed and wearing what I tell you to wear?”
Color rose in Ninel’s cheeks, but her eyes didn’t soften.
“As a Bratva wife, I have the right to move freely in your territory, to dine at your restaurants, sleep in your penthouse, play in your casinos, and dance in your clubs. I thought by now you’d have introduced me to your men at your business operations so they'll know exactly who I am.”
A smile threatened my lips, but I held it back. The fire in her voice amused me more than it should have. She knew more than I expected, yet not everything. My most valuable empire remained untouched in her speech: the information trade. CIA,Interpol, MI6 agents were all at my fingertips, at my beck and call.
“You wanting to meet my men, sleep in my penthouse, after eating at my restaurant and dancing in my club…sounds to me like you want me to spoil you as Mrs. Rykov.” I stood, leaning over until our eyes locked. My voice dropped lower. “Tell me, Ninel, after I spoil you, outside the bedroom, will you be ready to spoil me, inside the bedroom? Because one shouldn’t go without the other.”
Ninel scoffed, snatching her hands from the desk as though it burned, and took a few steps back.
“Are you saying I can’t explore your territory unless I…sleep with you?” she bit out.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Those words never escaped my lips. I just posed a mere question to you. One that you should give thought to.”
Her eyes flicked to my lips before darting back up.
“It just seems to me,” I pressed off the desk and stalked toward her, “like in this marriage there is so much that you…desire…”
She spun as I reached her, pressing her back to the desk. Something flickered in her eyes, fear, yes, but not only that. Maybe…lust?
I stopped inches away, my palms braced on either side of her hips, caging her in.
The floral fragrance I put out for her to use today messed with my senses. I whispered huskily, “But what…am I getting, printsessa?”
She exhaled sharply and her hot breath on my neck sent blood straight to my cock. An image of her legs locked aroundmy waist, as I thrust into her aching body beneath mine right here on the desk slammed into my mind.
Her tongue snaked out shyly, wetting her lips, and I nearly lost it. A growl tried to crawl out my throat but I pushed in back before I forced myself to push my hands off the desk and away from Ninel.
