"Because that's what married couples do on their wedding night."
I pull my hand free, backing away from him. "No. This marriage is in name only. A solution for both our problems. You get access to whatever information my father left behind, and I get protection. That's it."
His expression darkens. "That's not how this works, Mariya."
"Yes, it is." I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look more confident than I feel. "I agreed to marry you. I didn't agree to anything else."
He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back. We do this dance until my back hits the bookshelf, and he's standing right in front of me, his body caging me in.
"We have to consummate the marriage," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "That's still the law. Without consummation, it's not legal."
"That's ridiculous."
"Maybe. But it's true." His hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my lower lip. "And I'm not taking any chances. If this marriage isn't legal, you're not protected."
I want to argue, want to push him away and tell him to go to hell. But I can see the determination in his eyes. He's not going to back down on this.
"Fine," I say, the word bitter on my tongue. "Let's get this over with."
He leads me upstairs, his hand on the small of my back. When we reach his bedroom, he opens the door, and I stop in my tracks.
The room is transformed. Candles are everywhere, casting a warm, flickering light across the space. There's a bottle of vodka on the nightstand, two glasses beside it. Soft music plays from hidden speakers, something classical and romantic. Rose petals are scattered across the bed.
It's beautiful. Romantic. Everything a wedding night should be.
And it makes me furious.
"What the hell is this?" I spin to face him, my hands clenched into fists. "Did you think candles and vodka would make this okay? That you could seduce me into forgetting that I'm only here because you kidnapped me?"
His jaw tightens. "Matvey arranged it. I thought it would make you more comfortable."
We stare at each other, both of us breathing hard, the tension between us thick enough to cut. Then Andrey moves, closing the distance between us in two strides. His hands grip my waist, and he lifts me, carrying me to the bed.
"Put me down!" I struggle against his hold, but he's too strong.
He sets me on the bed, his body covering mine, pinning me in place. "We're doing this, Mariya."
His hand slides up my thigh, pushing the silk dress higher, and I feel my body respond despite my anger. Heat pools low in my belly, and my breath catches when his fingers brush against the lace of my panties.
"See?" he murmurs. "You want this as much as I do."
I want to deny it, push him away and prove him wrong. But I can't. Because he's right. My body does want this, even if my mind is screaming at me to stop.
His mouth finds mine, and this time, the kiss is anything but gentle. It's demanding, possessive, claiming me in a way that makes my head spin. His tongue slides against mine, and I hear myself moan, the sound muffled against his lips.
He pulls back long enough to strip off his jacket and tie, then his hands are on me again, sliding the dress up and over my head. I'm left in just my bra and panties, and his eyes darken as he looks at me.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathes.
He unhooks my bra with practiced ease, tossing it aside, and his mouth closes over one nipple. I arch off the bed, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer even as part of me wants to push him away.
His hand slides between my thighs, and he groans when he feels how wet I am. "So ready for me."
He strips off the rest of his clothes, and I can't help but stare. His body is perfect, all hard muscle and smooth skin. The tattoos on his bicep and back seem to move in the candlelight, and I see thescar on his shoulder blade, a reminder of the violence that's part of his world.
He settles between my thighs, and I feel the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He pushes inside slowly, giving me time to adjust, and I gasp at the stretch. He's big, filling me completely, and for a moment, I can't breathe.
"Relax," he murmurs against my neck. "Let me in."
