Vow of Deception: Chapter 30
When I step into our bedroom, the first thing I smell is…roses.
There are a few candles lit on the nightstand, their lights flickering in the otherwise dark room.
I pause at the entrance as I shrug off my jacket. Today has been tedious as fuck and the meeting at Sergei’s table was all about throwing jabs. While I don’t usually bat an eye at that, the visible threat Vladimir and Sergei are showing toward me have made me wary.
Thankfully, the cameras in Sergei’s mansion caught nothing about that night’s kidnapping. I watched them myself, pretending I’d lost my card, but that part was completely cut off from the footage. The last thing it showed was Yan ushering Lia inside my car before she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in with her.
I watched the footage from the opposite cameras, then paused and zoomed in to see the faces of the attackers, but they both wore masks. The driver had a hat on and he never raised his head enough for me to get a glimpse at his face.
The other one wasn’t so careful, and that makes sense since I assume he’s the one we found at the bottom of the cliff. He was a Spetsnaz turned assassin. A mercenary through and through, without any actual alliances, and like most professional Spetsnaz, it’s impossible to track how he got in contact with his clients.
I was—and still am—more interested in the motherfucker who hid his face the entire time, because he seemed like he held the reins of this entire operation. I watched all the footage from the parking lot that day and even took a week’s worth with me. He didn’t appear on the camera. At all. Which means he knew all about them and made sure to go in their blind spots.
He also knew how to shoot Yan in a way that wouldn’t be caught on camera, then used roads that have no surveillance.
Now, that’s the part that makes zero fucking sense. Why did he go through all that trouble just to let them go? He could’ve inflicted more damage on me if he’d threatened me with Lia’s life.
If Yan isn’t part of this, and I’m ninety nine percent sure he isn’t, he could’ve simply killed my guard.
Why the fuck did he release them both?
Unless his goal was never about capturing them.
Yan said that he was unconscious most of the car ride and couldn’t recall much. He’s lying. I can tell when Yan lies. But I still can’t figure out why he’s lying, so I told him that his livelihood depends on whether or not he remembers what happened in that fucking car.
Kolya gave me a dirty look before he realized he shouldn’t be glaring at me. My second-in-command is softhearted as fuck when it comes to Yan, so much so that even he was fooled by his performance. He only sees his pain, but I see way past that.
I see into the bond he’s formed with Lia over the time he’s been watching her—as much as I hate it. I see how his loyalty to me is no longer absolute. It’s split between me and her and that will only hurt him in the long run.
I close the bedroom door behind me. When Ogla and Kolya said that Lia openly defied my order to stay away from Yan, I was coming here bent on punishing her, but that was before I saw this view.
Lia sits at her dresser, brushing her hair over her slender, delicate shoulder. She’s wearing a blue satin nightgown that matches the color of her sparkling eyes.
Its strap falls off the creamy curve of her shoulder and she doesn’t bother holding it up. Her attention is on the mirror as she slowly brushes the shiny strands of her dark hair.
I abandon my jacket on the chair as my feet breeze toward her. I don’t have a choice in wanting to be near her. It’s engraved in the very marrow of my bones without an option to purge it.
The scent of roses fills my nostrils when I’m within touching distance. As if finally feeling my presence, Lia’s fingers pause on the brush and she meets my gaze through the mirror, mouth parting.
Her lips are painted in a dark red lipstick that I want to glide my tongue over and smear on her rosy cheeks.
“You’re back,” she murmurs.
“I’m back,” I speak quietly as I place my hands on her shoulders. Instead of lifting up the strap, I push the other one down her arm. The material slips, uncovering her pale tits and her soft pink nipples.
I release one of her shoulders and grab a breast in my palm. It fits so perfectly, like it was made for my hand. My thumb strokes her nipple and she sucks in a deep breath as both her hands rest on her lap.
“Candles?” I ask nonchalantly as if I’m not, in fact, thinking about fucking her on the floor right now. She looks so tantalizing, like my most screwed-up fantasy coming to reality.
I’m talking to distract the animal in me from acting on those carnal desires and to somehow calm my raging hard-on.
That strategy is failing as we speak.
“They smell nice.” Her voice is breathy, erotic as fuck, and it’s not helping my mission. “Don’t you think?”
“They do.” I flick strands of her hair and lift it to my nose, inhaling it deeply. “But no more than you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“What do I smell like?”
“Like roses and fucking addictions.”
“How do you know what addictions smell like?”
“I didn’t. Until you.”
“Me?” she drawls the word.
“Yes, you. Hmm. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re seducing me, Lenochka.” I pinch her nipple and she gasps before biting her lower lip.
The fact that she’s muting herself should be a turn-off, but I’m too far gone for this woman to register that.
I release her hair and jam two of my fingers in her mouth, expecting her to bite me. At least I can feel how much she wants me that way. The harder her bite, the more she’s gone for me as much as I am for her.
It’s a fucked-up sense of self-affirmation. Something that keeps me afloat. I’m fully aware that she’ll withdraw from me after we’re done. That she’ll turn to her side and give me her back, erasing me from her world. But right now, while I’m touching her, she’s mine for the taking.
Mine to own.
Mine to fucking possess.
Instead of biting, though, Lia laps her tongue around my fingers. Her eyes meet mine through the mirror, a thousand sparkles going through them all at once.
I pinch her nipple, tugging on the tight rosy bud and she gasps around my fingers. I pull them out before shoving them in again. She sucks on them, diligently and with renowned energy, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Fuck this.” I lift her up, one arm wrapping around her waist. She’s so tiny that she snuggles against me, even with one hand.
I knock whatever’s on her dresser off with my other hand and she gasps as her fingers dig into my shoulders. Some bottles crash to the ground and other things fall over. Thankfully, none of the candles are here, because I would’ve started a fire.
The better option would’ve been to carry her to bed, to be a fucking human being, but I have no patience to reach the bed right now. The small distance seems like a light-year away. My steel-like control is null and void when it comes to this woman.
That’s why I keep her away from the brotherhood. That’s why I’d rather we don’t go out in public. I’m always tempted to go on a killing spree if anyone so much as looks in her direction, let alone talks to her. I’m always tempted to lock us both in a place no one can find us.
I unbuckle my pants and yank them down with my boxer briefs to free my engorged dick. Lia watches me, unblinking, unmoving. She even stops breathing for a second.
She’s usually watched my erection with a half-stunned, half-excited expression, and I’m praying for the excited part to win, because I’m on the verge of blowing up.
“I’m going to fuck you hard and fast tonight, Lia. I won’t be gentle. I can’t be gentle, but if I hurt you, if it becomes unbearable, tell me.”
Her chest rises and falls heavily, her rosy-tipped breasts pushing up and down with every movement.
“Is that clear, Lia?”
She nods once, her gaze sliding to mine.
“Use your words. I want to hear you.”
“Hear me?”
“Your voice. I want to hear it, Lia. So when I fuck you, don’t mute yourself from me.”
“Why is that so important to you?” she whispers.
“Because it’s all of you.” And because she’ll be my Lia. Wholly. Fully.
My arm is still wrapped around her waist as I use my other hand to part her thighs and rip her underwear. It comes undone in one go, coupled with her gasp, as I slam inside her wet heat.
She welcomes me into her warmth, walls clenching and legs trembling. Her body caves into mine and her arms wind around my shoulders, nails clawing at my skin with every roll of my hips.
As promised, I take her hard and fast. Her back hits the mirror with each of my thrusts. I can feel her tightening around me in preparation of her orgasm.
But not yet.
I pull out of her and she releases a sound that’s caught between a gasp and a whine. I bite her lip into my mouth before releasing it and flipping her around so she’s facing the mirror.
Her eyes widen when she sees herself, half-naked, the nightgown bunched around her waist. She quickly bows her head when I thrust inside her. I clutch her jaw, fingers digging into her flesh, and tip her head in the direction of the mirror. “Look at your face when I fuck you. Look at how your body responds to me.”
She tries to break eye contact again, seemingly ashamed of what she’s seeing, but I keep my firm hold around her jaw, immobilizing her.
“Look at me, Lia.”
She doesn’t, so I roll my hips, pounding deeper into her, my fingertips sinking into her leg. “Look at me.”
Her eyes meet mine through the mirror, hesitantly, almost as if she’s afraid of what she’ll find on my face. I’m not sure what she sees—it could be my animalistic need for her, my dark obsession with her, or the secrets and lies that wind our lives together.
Whatever it is keeps her rooted in place as I fuck her harder, powering into her with a maddening urgency. I place a protective hand around her stomach so she doesn’t hit the dresser’s edge with each of my raw thrusts.
Her small, perky breasts bounce and her legs tremble with the power of my hips.
“Adrian…” she moans, her voice the sweetest, most erotic, throaty sound I’ve ever heard.
She doesn’t bite her lip, doesn’t even attempt to look away from me.
Lia’s moans rise in the air like the time I fucked her after she was kidnapped. They’re raw and hungry, leaving the corners of her soul and slamming straight into mine.
That only manages to get me harder, my pace rising and my rhythm spiraling out of fucking control.
The fact that she’s letting me hear her voice, unbound, unmodified, fills both my groin and my chest with an unmatched sense of lust, of ownership, and something else entirely different.
I’ve always been meant to ruin this woman, but I also get to own her.
To confiscate her.
To have her all for myself.
Lia comes with a hoarse cry, her fingers gripping the edge of the dresser. I join her soon after, spilling my seed into her and staking my claim.
Harsh breathing fills the air as we both slowly descend from our high. Lia still doesn’t look away from me, as if her enchanting eyes are caught in a trance.
I brush my lips against her shoulders. A sheen of sweat covers her skin, but I couldn’t give a fuck about that. Everything about her is perfection.
“Adrian?” she whispers.
“Hmm?” I mumble, continuing my slow nibbling on her skin. I’m only giving her some downtime before I carry her to bed and fuck her again. Slower this time. Though I’m sure that when I’m inside her, I won’t be able to control myself.
Again.
“Have I been good?”
“Very, Lenochka.”
“Do I deserve a reward?”
“Hmm.” I slide my tongue up her throat before my lips meet her ear. “What do you want?”
“I want to go outside with Jeremy.”
“You do, every day.” I resume nibbling on her neck, fingers fondling her breasts and nipples, making her gasp.
“N-not to the garden.”
“Then where?”
“The park. A place with actual children and people he can see.”
“Security hazard. No.”
“Adrian, please.” She turns around to face me, so that she’s caged between me and the dresser, and places a soft hand on my chest. “Kids his age need to go outside and meet other children. It’ll just be for a few hours, and I’m sure your guards will keep an eye on us.”
I don’t like them outside, not even when my guards are with them. But I know that she’s been stressed. I’ve sensed it in her absentminded gestures lately and the rising intensity of her nightmares. If she doesn’t release that tension, she could—and will—start acting out soon.
While I’m not sure about the extent of what happens, patterns don’t lie, and she’s developing one.
But instead of agreeing readily, I raise a brow. “One condition.”
Her eyes light up. “What?”
“From now on, you’ll let me hear your voice.”
She swallows, hesitating before she nods. I don’t like that moment of hesitation, how she wants to say no but knows she has to say yes to get what she wants.
That doesn’t mean I won’t hold her to it, though.
I lift her chin. “Starting tonight.”
“Does that mean you’ll let us?”
“I’ll make arrangements.”
“Thank you.” She smiles wide, and I kiss that smile. I feast on it, thrusting my tongue inside, and kissing her with a violence that leaves her gasping for air.
I love making her happy. I love how she melts in my arms and I intend to show her how much I love it all night long.
But even I know that this phase will come to an end. That we both need to face our demons.
I carry her in my arms toward the bed.
I’ll worry about it when it happens, because right now, my wife is the only one who matters.