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“Your family loves you so much.” I reach for her hand and draw her to sit beside me. “Vlad would have gotten you whatever clothes you wanted, and to Hell with anyone else’s opinion.” I kiss her fingertips. “Tomorrow, I’ll hire you a specialist tailor and seamstress. All your clothes will be handmade from now on, from your chosen fabrics. Every stitch as you want it, moya zhena.”
Lilyana’s lip quivers. “You won’t be embarrassed? All the other bratva wives are dressed up to the nines all the time. You’ll stand by me even when I’m in sneakers and jersey?”
“I’ll always wear my best clothes to exaggerate the contrast,” I laugh. “Or, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll wear my sweatpants all the time too.” I put my arms around her and pull her onto my lap, my hands in her hair as I bring her lips to mine. “I love you, goddamnit. I’ll stand by you anywhere, always. You’re crazy if you think I could ever be ashamed to be seen with you. I’m fucking ecstatic. I wanted to stop at every table in the restaurant and say, ‘You see this incredible woman? She’s my wife. She married me. Isn’t that something?’”
I tease her lower lip with my tongue, and she shudders. “I love you too,” she whispers. “It scared me, but not anymore. You’ve already loved me for longer than some people get in a lifetime.”
“We have all the time in the world,” I say, my hands stealing below her camisole.
She reaches for my shirt buttons. “I gotta admit,” she says, a teasing edge creeping into her tone, “I like the thought of you in sweatpants all the time.”
“You wouldn’t prefer me out of them? I’m offended.”
With the last button undone, Lilyana pushes my shirt off my shoulders, and I toss it on the floor, swiftly followed by her top. I palm her bare breasts, and she instinctively nestles her body into mine.
“On second thoughts, you can’t go around like that,” she says. “Your junk would be too visible, and I don’t think I can deal with other women staring.”
My cock twitches, and I give her nipple a pinch, making her yelp. “Is my wife the jealous type? I like that a lot, baby girl. You gonna get your claws out for me?”
She wraps her arms around me and rakes my upper back with her nails. “Maybe. Don’t wear the sweatpants outside, and it won’t be an issue.”
I grab her wrists and hold them behind her, bending her back. Her pale throat is exposed, and I kiss the spot where her pulse rages beneath her skin.
“You don’t give me orders, Lilyana. But I feel like being generous, so I’ll let you take charge this time.” I bump my hips so she can feel my erection. “Ride me right here, or let me pin you to the wall and rail you until you don’t know your name anymore.”
“I’ll take the first option,” she replies, grinding against me, “but you gotta mean it when you say I’m running the show.”
Fuck. It’s hard to let her do what she wants when she’s being deliberately bratty. My wife understands how to wreck me before we’ve even begun, and I have the audacity to claim to be in charge?
“Okay, baby girl. I have an idea that might work for you.” I let go of her and put my hands above me, holding onto the couch. “Remember when you told me you never dared use any sex toys?” She blushes, and I suppress a snarl of pleasure. “Now’s your chance to please yourself, but use me instead.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I won’t touch you, tsvetok. Just like the first time. But you sure as fuck can touch me. Do whatever you like. Ride me rough, slow, a little, a lot; whatever it takes. I can handle it.”
Lilyana slides to the floor and kicks off her slacks before undoing my zipper. Her hand closes around my cock, and the pressure alone is enough to draw a groan from my lips.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “I feel like a kid in a candy shop.”
I close my eyes and drop my head back. “Yes. So get at it. One condition, though—” I open my eyes again, “—let me blow my load inside you. I need you full of my come.”
“Deal.”
She circles the head of my cock with her tongue, pumping the shaft as she does so, and I sigh with bliss.
Jesus fucking Christ. That’s a lot of big talk for a man in serious danger of coming right from the jump. This woman is killing me.
Her mouth moves up and down my length, coating it in her saliva. I glance down to see her other hand is out of sight.
“Are you touching yourself?” I ask.
“Sure am.” She gives me a firm stroke, and I grip the couch harder, gritting my teeth. “I need a head start if I’m gonna take this.”
Don’t think about her playing with her clit. I tighten the muscles in my loins, holding back the surge, but she’s getting me dangerously close. It’s like she’s bolder in what she’s doing this time; whether that’s because she’s the boss or she trusts me more, who knows, but it’s a damn good thing.
“Baby girl, you gotta ease off,” I say, my voice choked. “You’re too good. I’ll come everywhere.”
Lilyana takes my cock out of her mouth and rolls her eyes. “What kind of dildo are you?” she laughs. “That wouldn’t be so bad. I kinda wanna taste it.”
