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“Ah,” I say. “My Papa. He believed in overpaying the people who had his life in their hands. Didn’t believe in loving his children, though. I don’t know what I’d have done without Vladi. He was my parent, really.”
“My father should have known better.” Arman’s voice is tinged with anger. “Working for the goddamn bratva. He knew it was a dangerous life, and I’d have no one if he were killed. Look what fucking happened. My dad loved me, and he died. Sergey hated everyone, you most of all, and he lived.”
He closes his eyes. “Vlad meant well when he shut you away and protected you from the world, but he made a mistake. You’re strong, Lilyana. So strong. Fate stole your mother, and instead of sinking into the darkness, you reached for the light, always. I’m proud of you, do you realize that?”
My eyes spill over. Arman has been there for me for so long, from when I was a child to all the years in between when he kept his counsel. Now, he’s no longer my bodyguard—he’s my husband and the man who holds my tender heart in his hands.
I trust him without limits.
“Thank you,” I say. “For so much, and from the bottom of my heart.”
He wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. “Think nothing of it, baby girl. I’d have done more if I could.” He pauses, his grief heavy in the air. “I miss him. I miss my father.”
“I’m sorry. I miss my Mama. In some ways, it would have been easier to never know anything about her, but on the other hand, I’m proud of her. She was strong.”
Arman nudges me. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
I reach for the keys, and my fingers move of their own accord, bringing the beautiful opening bars of my favorite aria into the small room as I sing under my breath.
“O mio babbiono caro, mi piace e bello, bello…”
Arman rests his head on mine and relaxes. “I love this song. And I love you, my Lilyana. You’re the dream I never dared hold too close. If there was nothing left for me now except this room—this moment—I’d stay here forever, my raging soul finally tamed by your gentle one.”
A profound stillness settles within me. I never understood how much fury swirled through my thoughts, with my father and my circumstances, yes, but mostly with myself. That shitty internal voice that wanted me to hate myself never had to work all that hard because I took every defective aspect of myself and made them my personality. Arman saw past my neuroses to the person inside, but it’s more than that; he made me see myself, too. Every supportive word, every time he stood at my side and helped me to find courage.
He was always there.
I play a holding pattern with my right hand. “Come on,” I say. “Play.”
“I’m no good. I can’t—”
“You can. Stay in the bass clef, and don’t try to play dolce, like me; your hands are heavier, and you’re a more intense character than I am, so let it come through.” He lifts his hand to the keys. “That’s it. Try it maestoso, with majesty.”
Arman’s first notes are tentative, but led by me, he finds his groove. I hear the power coming through and leap off the stool.
“Take the treble. You’ve got it!”
He plays with two hands as well as I ever could but with a noble flourish that I couldn’t bring to it if I tried. I throw my arms around his neck.
“I love you,” I say. “I’m proud of you, too. I wish I’d seen before what kind of a man you are.”
He finishes the piece with a smooth decrescendo and spins around, pulling me onto his lap.
“I’ll show you exactly what kind of man I am,” he murmurs.
34
Arman
Lilyana’s beauty is beyond my ability to resist. Who would I even be without her? Why would I bother living without her beside me?
Her lips are lively against mine. Already, she’s less coy and more aggressive, her need for me running fast and hot. Her firm thighs grip my hips, and I moan into her mouth, my cock swelling as she shifts her weight against it.
“What’s the plan?” I murmur. “Tell me you’re gonna let me inside you again, baby girl. I gotta feel the sweet pussy around my cock again.”
She pulls away and stands, turning away. “I’m sore,” she says. “‘I’m not sure I can.”
“Lilyana, baby. You gotta get used to me.” I wrap my arms around her waist, and she drops back, her ass nestled against my erection. “I intend to fuck you every damn day at least once, but I won’t rush it.” I take her hair and wind it into a rope, holding it aside to whisper in her ear. “Don’t you want me to fill you up with my come? I know you do. You want me to stretch your tight little hole again until it hurts.” I give her hair a firm tug, and she lets out a wanton groan. “Yeah. See? I’ll start you slowly, but I’ll bet you’ll be begging for me to rough you up before we’re through.”
