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“My sweet Alinyonok…” His voice roughens to a velvet rasp as I lick his fingers in the process of finishing off the first egg. “Such a good, precious girl.”
I should be embarrassed by the way I’m acting. I should stop this, tell him off. But I let him feed the second egg to me, even though I’m already full, and as he brings the glass of orange juice to my lips, I suck up the tart liquid through the straw, obeying his murmured instructions.
When the last sip of the juice is gone, he sets the empty glass on the nightstand and moves the tray off my lap and onto the floor. Then, cupping my chin in one big hand, he presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is featherlight, lasting but a moment, yet when he pulls away, I’m tingling all over, my pulse unsteady.
“Now you’re ready,” he murmurs, studying my face—which, judging by the heat pulsing underneath my skin, must be a very healthy-looking pink. Leaning over, he threads one arm underneath my knees and the other behind my back and, ignoring my assurances that I can walk, lifts me off the bed with the ease of someone picking up a toddler.
Embarrassed, I hide my face in his neck as he carries me out of the cabin and up the stairs to the deck, where Ruslan is waiting with the camera under the overhang. He snaps a few pictures with me in Alexei’s arms, and then a few more once Alexei sets me down on my feet but keeps a careful grip on my shoulders—presumably to steady me in case I feel dizzy.
“You okay?” Alexei asks gently, gazing down at me, and I nod, suddenly too drained to fight. I don’t know if it’s my passing out or the weirdness between us in the cabin, but I feel wrung out, empty in a strangely cathartic way.
As I look into the dark, magnetic gaze of the man I’m going to marry, the fear and anxiety that have tormented me for so long feel… distant. Not gone, but not as vividly present either. Or maybe it’s me who’s not entirely present, still caught in that dream-like state where Alexei and our future together aren’t something to dread.
Satisfied that I’m not going to faint again, my husband-to-be releases my shoulders and clasps my right hand in a warm, possessive grip. “In that case, let’s do this.”
He faces forward, and I follow suit, noticing for the first time that Larson is already here, standing in front of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Vika approaching as well. Soft music begins playing from somewhere—speakers built into the walls, perhaps—and more flashes go off as Ruslan circles around us like a camera-wielding shark.
Larson begins speaking, his words reaching my ears but not really registering. Instead, they blend with the sound of the waves breaking against the hull and with the feel of the warm, salty breeze on my face.
“I do,” I say when the right moment comes, and then it’s Alexei’s turn.
“I do,” he says firmly.
Turning me to face him, he reaches into his inner jacket pocket and takes out a small velvet box that he opens to reveal two rings—a delicate diamond-encrusted platinum circle and a thicker platinum band without any stones. They’re beautiful, even if they’re just two more links in the chains with which he’s binding me to him. As I look at them, I remember the engagement ring he gave me on my eighteenth birthday. I haven’t worn it since that night, but I still have it back home in Moscow, tucked away in a safe in my penthouse. For some reason, I never got rid of it.
This wedding band complements it nicely.
My heart skips a beat, some of the dream-like feeling fading as my anxiety returns, but it’s too late. Alexei slides the diamond ring onto my left ring finger and places the platinum band onto my upturned palm—for me to fit onto him. I fumble as I do so, my fingers uncharacteristically clumsy, and he helps me, his mouth curving sardonically.
Finally, it’s done.
“You may kiss the bride,” Larson announces, and Alexei grips my face between both of his palms to claim my lips in a deep, hungry kiss that leaves no doubt that I now belong to him.
That I am his possession, for better or for worse.
Chapter 7
Alexei
“Congrats, big brother,” Ruslan says when Alina excuses herself to use the restroom immediately after the ceremony, and Larson and Vika return to their duties. “You now have everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“Not everything. Not yet.” I track Alina with my eyes until she disappears below the deck, my dick hard from the kiss and my chest tight with worry. Maybe I should’ve gone with her to make sure she doesn’t pass out again. Then again, she seemed okay throughout the ceremony. Still, I should probably go check on her in case—
