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ADRIK
It’s late when I come out of my office. Stefan and I got so far as to start sketching out the broad strokes of an attack against the Volandris, but even he left an hour ago.
My plan is to go straight up to bed. I’m fucking exhausted. But when I step into the hallway, I hear the muffled sound of the television emanating from the living room.
The lights are off, but I can see the bluish glow of the TV reflecting off the ceiling, flickering as some car dealership commercial plays. When I come into the room, a balding man in an American flag suit is waving his arms in front of a line of cars.
“Come on down and get everything you want without the compromise,” he crows. “At Finchland Motors, we make all your dreams come true.”
“My dreams would make you shit yourself, fat man,” I mutter.
I turn towards the couch, expecting Emery or Isabella to say something, but they’re both asleep. Isabella is asleep in her wheelchair, her head lolled to the side. Emery is lying on the sofa, one arm pillowed under her head, her other hand draped across the gap towards her daughter.
They’re holding hands.
Travis is the only one awake. He perks up as I walk over, his tail wagging, but doesn’t move from Isabella’s side.
“Molodetz,” I whisper to him in Russian. Good boy.
The dog shifts and resettles, his paws crossing. I bend down and scratch him between the ears. Then I scoop up Isabella.
Her breathing catches for a second as I’m settling her in my arms, but a second later, she’s back to her deep, even breathing.
Children are a marvel. I can’t imagine what it would be like to live with that level of trust. To be so vulnerable, asleep in someone else’s arms, and not be worried at all.
I go upstairs and settle her into her bed, positioning her so she can sleep comfortably through the night. Travis follows me into the room, and I scratch him once more. Then I head back to the living room to get Emery.
For a moment, I consider shaking her awake and telling her I’m going to bed. But she looks so peaceful. The concern she’s been wearing on her face is gone. She’s at ease, perfectly relaxed. And I want that to last. She deserves it.
Carefully, I shimmy my arms under her knees and around her shoulders, and lift her off the sofa. The second she’s in the air, her eyes slam wide open.
“What are you doing?”
“Kidnapping you,” I say casually.
“That’s not funny.”
“Is it still too soon?”
She presses a palm to my chest. “Put me down. I can walk.”
“No.”
“Adrik, put me—”
“No,” I say more firmly. “I want to carry you, so I’m going to carry you.”
“What I want doesn’t matter?”
“It depends,” I shrug. “If you want me to set you down so you can walk, then no, it doesn’t matter. But if you want me to set you down so we can fuck against the hallway wall? Well, that I would consider.”
Even in the dimness, I can see her cheeks flush. She turns away from me. “I figured you’d be too busy with your important work for something like that.”
“I’m never too busy for that,” I say softly.
She turns back to me, her wide green eyes studying my face. Her brow furrows. I can practically hear her trying to drill into my head to read my thoughts.
I step into our bedroom. The full moon light pours through the open window, casting everything in a silvery glow. I settle Emery on the edge of the bed. Her legs open, and I step into the space and grab her hands in mine.
Her breath quickens. I like knowing I’m the reason why.
“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” I warn, looking her in the eyes.
She frowns but nods. “Okay.”
“But,” I add, “the Bratva isn’t everything.”
I know how she interpreted what I said earlier this afternoon. In some ways, it’s true. The Bratva is all that is left of my family.
But it isn’t everything. How can it be, when this woman is sitting in front of me?
“No?” She bites the corner of her mouth in worry.
I bend down and press a kiss there. “No.”
“What else is there?”
Slowly, I release her hands and press her back onto the mattress. Unlike yesterday morning, the mood between us is somber. Almost sacred. I peel her jeans down and Emery stays silent as I kiss my way up her creamy thighs to her center.
She lifts onto her elbows as I meet her eyes. “You and Isabella and this new baby…” I rasp. “You’re everything.”
I can tell by her expression that she doesn’t believe me. Not yet.
But she will.
I slide her panties down and drag my tongue over her slit. Emery gasps as I work her open slowly, moving in long strokes. Each time I touch her clit, her body jolts. I increase my pace, sucking and nipping at her until she’s grinding her hips against my mouth, her fingers tugging at my hair.
“Adrik,” she moans. Her hips float off the bed as she seeks release.
I respond by thrusting my tongue into her and circling my thumb over her wet heat. That’s all it takes. She comes bucking and moaning until finally, her entire body goes limp on the bed.
I wipe her sweetness from my chin and crawl over her, shedding my own clothes as I go. Emery opens herself to me, wrapping her arms and legs around me.
“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you,” she pouts, curling her fingers into the hair at the base of my neck.
I know this is a distraction. I know it doesn’t go nearly far enough to solve the heavy things lurking between us right now. But I need the distraction. I need the release.
I’m sure as fuck that she does, too.
“Let it go,” I say just as I position myself at her opening. “Submit.”
Then I slide in to the hilt.
Emery’s mouth falls opens as I enter her. I catch her exhale in my mouth, kissing her until she’s gasping.
I fuck her at an easy, rhythmic pace. I grip her thighs and drag her body against mine again and again. Her hands roam over my torso, clawing at my shoulders and squeezing my biceps. It’s not until halfway through that Emery grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, baring her breasts.
I take a nipple into my mouth as I fill her deeper than ever and she arches her back.
“Why are you the only one who can do this to me?” she breathes in amazement.
I grip her narrow waist and thrust into her, our bodies slapping together with every connection. Pleasure coils low, tightening until I have to grit my teeth to hold it back.
“Because you were made for me, kiska.”
