Page 38 of A Nanny For The Bratva Boss
“This is…” I don’t even have words.
Mikhail’s watching me, smiling softly. “You like it?”
“Like it? Baby, this is incredible!”
He takes my hand, kisses the back of it, and leads us inside. The place is stunning. It’s an open-concept with magazine-style furniture, insane appliances, so much space I could get lost in here, breathtaking ocean-views… and a bed in the master-suite that’s so big it could fit five people.
And the bathroom? Oh my God, the bathroom! Marble everywhere, a tub big enough to swim in, and an outdoor shower that’s facing the beach.
“I’m never leaving,” I whisper dreamily.
Mikhail chuckles, wrapping his muscular arms around me from behind. “Good. That’s the plan.”
* * *
That first night, he takes me to the beach. There’s a table set up, with candles and a full gourmet dinner laid out.
“Oh, wow…”
“Sit. Let me take care of you.”
The stars are bright in the clear night sky; the ocean waves, crashing, and I’m sitting across my hot-as-fuck, badass husband, wearing a designer sundress. Yeah, life is good. Great. Beautiful. Freaking perfect.
“This is amazing. Thank you, baby,” I tell him with a soft smile.
He reaches across the table to take my hand. “My absolute pleasure, Milaya.”
After dinner, we walk along the beach hand in hand with our bare feet in the sand. And when he pulls me into the water, I don’t fight it. Even when his hands start wandering under the fabric of my dress. Even when he lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist.
“Here?” I ask in a breathy whisper.
“Right here.”
He slides inside me, slow, and deep. The warm ocean water lapping around us. The moon overhead.
“I love you, Mrs. Maksimov,” he rumbles.
“I love you too, Mr. Maksimov.”
And he makes love to me right there in the ocean.
* * *
The next few days are a blur of amazing food, lazing around in our rich-people villa, walks around our beautiful island, and even more mind-blowing sex than our usual insatiable pace. In bed, in the shower, on the balcony overlooking the water, against the walls, on the dining table, in the outdoor shower under the stars… Misha can’t keep his hands off me. And I can’t get enough of him.
On our last morning, I wake up wrapped in his arms; the sun streaming through the windows, the sound of waves in the distance. When I blink my eyes open, I find him already awake. Watching me.
“Morning,” I mumble sleepily, stretching, smiling at my gorgeous husband.
“Morning, baby.”
“What time is it?”
“Early.”
“We should get up.”
“Or…” His hand slides down my stomach. Between my thighs. “We could stay here.”
