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The priest needed to pause several seconds before her vows were completed. She sounded nervous when she was speaking and my stomach felt like someone had dropped several bricks inside it. Finally, it was my turn. I bulldozed through my vows, making quick work of the whole thing, but that didn’t stop me from sweating like a pig. This was fucking embarrassing.
Marinka didn’t seem to mind.
“You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, man cannot put asunder. Amen.” The priest finally declared us husband and wife, which was good enough for me. Then, he quickly added, “And now, you may kiss the bride.”
Fuck, I’d forgotten to mention to him to skip that part and now it was too fucking late. Marinka’s cheeks flushed as her eyes took me all in. I hesitated, but at the same time, I didn’t want to look like a total fool in front of her and the priest. I leaned in, bringing her closer, and then pressed my lips to hers.
I wanted her to remember this day forever, so I fucking devoured her lips, teasing her tongue with mine. Her skin was soft, her tongue hot and wet. And once I tested her, I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. She sighed, the sound spreading a violent lust through my veins, dulling my vision. When I finally forced myself to pull away, remembering where I was, Marinka was breathless and I was hard again like a fucking teenager.
“Very well then. Let’s move to sign all the documents with the witnesses,” the priest said, clearing his throat, and I felt like he was pulling us away from some kind of dream. I couldn’t take my eyes off Marinka. She was my newest, maddest obsession.
I was fucked in the head. She was still my prisoner, but also a wife. There was something truly wrong with me if I believed she could be anything more than that. She was supposed to be no one and yet, as I tasted her, I never wanted to kiss another woman again. None of this was going according to plan.
I was glad when we were done with all the paperwork and we could finally get the hell out of that church. I didn’t like the way Marinka was staring at me and then, I noticed Pedro’s smirk. That bastard knew this whole charade was making me look weak. Marinka was becoming my Achilles’ heel.
Pedro thought I was making a mistake and the old Sevchenko was supposed to be dead. He was right to some extent but Marinka was also an asset. I needed to keep her safe and sound. Pedro was one of my trusted men, along with Marco, which was why I’d brought him with me and left Marco to handle things back home, but at the end of the day, I was the boss. I made all the deals and new connections. Honestly, my brothers wouldn’t survive in this world without me.
“Sebastian, are you all right?” Marinka’s voice reached me as we were walking out of the church.
My thoughts were racing so I glanced at her and then realized she’d probably asked me that a few times.
“Yeah, sure. Why?” I asked a bit more harshly than I intended. My fingers were entwined with hers and I found myself getting lost in these strange sensations. I didn’t even know when we started holding hands. I was really losing it.
“You seemed a little absent and I think this is the third time I asked you this,” she said, giving me that disconcerting look.
“I’m fine. Don’t concern yourself with my wellbeing too much, teacup,” I said gruffly and her face paled a little.
The truth was that I hated using that nickname on her but right then, I felt like she was seeing the real me, that she was trying to look into my past, my childhood. I didn’t want her to dig to deeply and find out what a cold, calculated bastard my father had been.
Like me…
The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree…
“Of course, but I need you to know that I really did enjoyed this wedding. It was romantic, intimate, and the church was so cute. As far as fake weddings go, this was perfect and not overwhelming. Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you so much,” she said when we stopped right outside the car.
I pulled away from her, breathing evenly through my nose, and wondered how unintentionally I’d made this whole thing more complicated. Marinka wasn’t supposed to like this new Sebastian. She only knew me as a ruthless and moody motherfucker. I’d forced her to become my wife and now she was showing me gratitude.
“Just get in the car. We are going back to the hotel,” I said in a curt tone, opening the door. She slid inside and I went around the vehicle, but instead going to the back, I went in the front so I could sit with Pedro. Might as well continue to perpetuate the image of the ultimate jerk.
If Marinka was upset or surprised about this, she didn’t say anything.
“We are going to have dinner at the hotel. You can go and change as soon as we get there,” I told her while we were on the way.
“All right,” she replied, her voice flat.
I kept thinking about that kiss. It wasn’t like I hadn’t enjoying kissing women before, but this felt different. Marinka allowed me to take a piece of her. She made a vow to be mine and she accepted me wholly in front of God. We were bonded together and that kiss only confirmed that I wanted to possess her.
Yet, everything was also fake. Made up. Contrived.
There was no bond, no connection, no true vows … but she’d sounded so sincere. Like she’d meant every word she’d uttered in the church.
Guilt reared its head and I didn’t like it one bit.
Soon after, we arrived back at the hotel and I walked inside, not bothering to wait for my wife.
Wife—that thought stuck in my throat. Here I was, living a new beginning based on deceit and I was already doomed.
I was married again and I was supposed to call Marinka my wife. That felt odd—so wrong yet so right at the same time.
