I’m so surprise by the kiss that I barely react at first. But soon the way he roughly pulls me into his lap and spreads my legs makes my core clench with desire as a wet heat pools between my legs.

I’m suddenly very aware that I’m not wearing any underwear.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he says, turning to pin me down against the seat. I gasp as he holds my wrists above my head and kisses my neck hard. He painfully bites my lower lip and kisses me again, his thick erection pressing against my soft, wet pussy as he hikes my dress up over my hips.

“You’re not angry with me?” I ask, breathing hard as he kisses down my neck, down to my breasts, and lower still, until his face is between my legs. My fingers lace into his hair.

“Not at all,” he says as he teases my inner thigh, first one and then the other, with his devilish mouth. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud?” I don’t understand. My heart’s racing though, and when he tongues my folds, lapping up and down, I replace it hard to think of anything other than the pleasure bursting between my legs.

He growls like a hungry beast sating himself. His fingers slide inside of me and he fucks me with them as his tongue flicks along my clit.

“You were fucking perfect in there,” he says, purring as he does it. I’m moaning and the windows are fogging up as he keeps licking me. “The way you stood up to Konstantin? Anyone else might’ve backed down, but you stood your ground and told him what you thought. It was perfect.”

“You’re not angry?”

“If I wanted you to be quiet and obedient, I would have left you at home. I wanted you there, not some fucking doll with tits.” His fingers go deep and he sucks my clit hard. I whimper, back arching into him. “I want a strong queen. I want a wife with a fucking spine. And that’s you, Karine, you’re so perfect it almost breaks my heart.”

I come against his mouth as he tells me how beautiful I am. The car shakes as the orgasm rips into me, and I can barely think straight when he turns me around and pins my face against the seats. His pants open, and I feel the tip of his cock moisten itself along my soaking, dripping folds, before he slowly plunges himself inside of me.

He takes me like a beast. I push back into him gasping with bliss as he fucks me. He leans forward to roll his fingers around my clit as his huge cock fills me to the brim, and his mouth replaces my neck and my ear, whispering as he thrusts into me.

“I fucking need every inch of this messy, soaking pussy. You’re mine, all fucking mine, and I will make you feel it.” He grips the choker, holding it like a collar as he continues to fill me. “You’re in my head, Karine, my wife, I can’t stop thinking about this tight pussy.”

I gasp with bliss as he fucks me harder and when he tugs on the choker, that throws me over the edge. I come a second time on his cock, shuddering with bliss as he takes me, and I feel him growl with pleasure as he comes too.

We collapse in the back seat of the car together. Sweat dribbles down between my breasts and I feel him on my thighs. I squeeze my legs together, trying not to smile. I’m lightheaded and dizzy with him.

“You should bring me to these meetings more often,” I say, nuzzling against his chest.

“You’re right. If I get to fuck you like that after, and if you keep bringing that sharp brain of yours, then you will be a very good asset.”

“That’s all you want me for? My assets?”

He laughs and pats my ass. “What can I say? They’re fantastic.”

I snort and kiss his chin. We’re silent for a little while, both of us lounging in a comfortable, post-sex quiet. But something from the meeting occurs to me.

“Oleg called me something earlier that I meant to ask you about.”

Valentin rumbles. “You noticed, huh?”

“He called me Tsarina.”

“It’s like calling you his queen. It was a very big compliment.”

“Really? That’s a Russian thing?”

“Absolutely. A man like Oleg is very traditional. He would not call you Tsarina if he didn’t mean it.” Valentin kisses me gently. “You’re winning them over, like I knew you would.”

A strange sense of pride fills me. Valentin thinks I did well, and his men are starting to respect me. I still have a long way to go before I’m a real part of this Bratva⁠—

But I realize for the first time that it’s something I want.

When I married Valentin, I never imagined I’d get lost in his world, but now here I am, worrying whether a bunch of vicious Russian killers and criminals respect me.

Tonight showed me there’s more to Valentin’s life than breaking bones and spilling blood. There’s planning, politics, and deep thought behind every decision he makes, and maybe I can help with that. I won’t be deep in the middle of it, but it doesn’t scare me, letting myself drift further and further into the darkness that is Valentin’s organization.

My mother left Baltimore to escape men like my husband.

And now I replace myself yearning to be a part of their world.

It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. I should want to run away.

Instead, I want to get closer to him.

A part of me feels sick about that, like somehow I’m betraying Mama and Papa by falling for Valentin.

And a bigger part of me can’t help it—because I really am falling for him.

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