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Every goddamned thing about her was perfect. Everything.
“I love you,” I said. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. But as soon as I said them, I knew they were the God’s honest truth.
Her eyes popped open in surprise that quickly gave way to a seductive stare from behind her thick, sexy eyelashes. The green of her eyes darkened as her pupils dilated and I waited.
It was mere seconds I’m sure, but in my heart it was a hundred years.
“I love you, too.”
I exhaled in relief.
I tucked one arm behind my head so I didn’t have to crane my neck to watch her. The scent of her pussy was distracting as fuck, all the more so because I could see my own cum dripping out of her, like milk-white honey.
“But I do worry,” she said, blowing smoke off to the side. Her expression had become more serious—her eyes were harder, the set of her teeth firmer. “About the gambling.”
Of all the times to have this conversation, she picked the one when her pussy lips were resting on my chest. Manipulative little brat. I growled at her as I took the cigarette from her fingers to have another draw.
“Nothing to worry about.”
She didn’t look convinced. “I saw you at that poker table, Vasile. You’ve got the itch. And that terrifies me.”
This—of all things—was not worth her getting worked up over. My brother, her fucking fiancée, was just this side of a goddamned serial killer and here she was busting my balls about poker.
“I’ve got it handled. I never bet more than I can spare. I know when to walk away from a table.”
Valeria eyed me with doubt. I could see she didn’t believe me. It made me angry to think that the men in her life had treated her so badly that she had this mistrust of everything. It was something I would have to change, with kindness and with punishment as necessary. She had to learn that I would never let her down, and I would never give her reason to doubt me. She needed to be content with that safety.
“I’m not your father, Valeria.”
“I never said you were,” she said, softening a little. But not much. “It just pisses me off that you can’t see why I might have a problem with gambling,” she said, getting worked up. “The only reason I’m—we are in this position, Vasile, is because of gambling. I won’t tolerate it. No way.”
She offered me another draw, but I passed. It wasn’t very often that someone called me out on something. But a part of me liked it. A part of me enjoyed the claws coming out. All this talk could wait. I needed to be inside her and I needed it now. So I glanced down at her dripping-wet pussy and ran my hands up her creamy curves.
“Seems to me that you’re pretty happy about being in this position.”
She stubbed out her cigarette and tossed it into the fire. When she turned back to me, she was fighting a sly smile that threatened to break out over her swollen cherry red lips. “You’re a cocky bastard sometimes, you know that?”
Somehow, I felt her words in my bones, in my dick, and even in my heart all at once.
Christ, what was this woman doing to me? Every fucking time I felt like I had the upper hand, she flipped it around on me. But still, if she thought she was going to be the boss of me, she better think again.
“This is how it’s gonna go: You’re either gonna take all of me, or none of me. And that look in your eyes right now says you’d rather take none.”
She didn’t even flinch. She met me right where I was—anger to anger, rage to rage. Instead of shrinking from me, instead of saying it was all a misunderstanding or some wishy-washy shit like that, she said nothing.
Then, very slowly, she slid her hand down my chest, shifted her weight to one side, and reached between her legs. This time, she gripped my cock hard. She was greedy as she placed me at her opening and slid down onto me.
I arched my head back and growled as her tight, hot walls clenched around me.
Once she had me positioned inside, I took her face by the jaw and said, “No more talking.” And then pressed my palm over her mouth and instructed her on how to ride me.
Fuck almighty, how she rode me.
CHAPTER 23
Valeria
The morning of what was supposed to be my wedding day dawned frozen and crystal blue. Every bare branch sparkled with ice, as if candied with sugar.
Bundled up in a fur jacket and wearing riding breeches and boots that Vasile and I found in a packing trunk, I stood outside the manor house, helping him tack up the horse. I tightened the second of the two billets on the saddle unevenly, but my mind was so distracted that I stood there blankly, staring at the mismatched buckles, letting my mind drift and drift.
