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“I like to keep things orderly in my life,” I told her.
Sasha bit her full bottom lip, and it was an erotic sight. I knew that she didn’t know what she was doing. Though I didn’t think that Sasha was my friend, I knew that she wasn’t some sort of vixen. It made her actions all the sexier.
“I suppose order isn’t a bad thing,” she told me.
“I’m sure that you know that as my wife, there are certain obligations you must fulfill.”
Sasha’s smile immediately turned downward. “Do you mean sex? Because what happened last night…”
“Will happen again,” I told her. Fucking Sasha had been the only good thing to come out of our marriage so far. I had decided that I liked the feel of her slick pussy gripping my cock, and her tiny nails digging into my shoulder blades.
Sasha sneered. “Are you going to rape me?” she asked.
It was the same question that had set me off before, and it pissed me off now. I suspected that she was trying to goad me, and I wasn’t going to give in. “Did I rape you last night, or did you willingly open your legs for me?”
Sasha moved back as if I had physically struck her. “What are these rules?” she asked.
I was impressed by the fact that she was rolling with the punches here. Sasha didn’t seem like she was just going to roll over and allow me to do anything I wanted.
“No alcohol or drugs,” I told her. “I don’t want a lush for a wife.”
Sasha snorted. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she said. “I’m too young to drink, and I’ve never done drugs in my life.”
I knew that. I hadn’t considered that I needed to lay down any rules, so I was making this shit up as I went along. I had seen enough women strung out on drugs that I knew that Sasha had never done them. I just wanted to make sure that she knew I’d gut her if she decided to snort a line.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
“Next?”
“No fucking anyone outside of our marriage.”
Sasha snorted. “Jealous?” she asked. At some point in the conversation, she had folded her arms across her chest and stared at me with a look of defiance in her eyes.
“Hardly,” I told her. “But I can’t have my heirs being questioned.” That was the truth of it, so I was able to ignore the hot anger that rose in my chest when I thought about someone taking what I considered already mine.
“So, you want children?” she asked.
Looking at her, I could see that the thought of children made her nervous. I couldn’t blame her. She had barely left high school, and now, she was expected to be a wife and a mother. When I had negotiated our marriage, I’d initially tried to marry her off to Marco. They were closer in age, and because he wasn’t Don, he could get away with certain things. But her father wouldn’t hear it. He wasn’t going to allow her little princess to be anything other than a queen.
“Giving the family heirs is my job just as much as it is yours,” I told her. It was the most diplomatic answer that I had.
“Are there any other rules?” she asked. I appreciated that she didn’t spend too much time harping on the kids thing. In truth, I wasn’t sure what I wanted or when.
“I expect you to conduct yourself properly,” I said. I tried not to snort at my own words. I didn’t know anything about what a proper girl should do. The girls I knew were anything but appropriate.
“You sound like my father,” she muttered.
Her words made my eye twitch, and I grabbed my scotch and downed it before I blew up on her. “The last rule is to stay the fuck out of my things,” I told her.
Sasha opened her mouth but closed it with a sharp snap. It was clear that she wanted to bite my head off, but she didn’t. “Now,” I said. “If you can follow those rules, then we won’t have any problems. We will be able to have a successful marriage.”
I was talking down to Sasha, but I wanted her to know her place. This wasn’t her father’s house where she could get away with anything.
“I have some requests of my own,” she said.
“I wasn’t making any requests,” I told her. “If you don’t follow these rules, I’ll be sure to make your life fucking hell. Your father might have made me marry you, but we both know that he isn’t going to save you.”
Isaac was desperate to stop the war between us. It was costing the Russians more and more money, and it had cost him his son. He’d been so desperate that he had sold me his daughter. Sasha looked at me with shocked eyes, and for a moment, I thought that she would cry, but she blinked those tears away.
