Chapter 37: Chosen By A Sinner: Chapter 36

I place Mariya on the couch and make sure her leg is comfortably propped up on the pillows.

“I’m going to make an early dinner. Okay?”

She nods, pulls her phone out, and looks through wedding images.

“How’s the planning coming along?” I ask as I walk to the kitchen.

“Good. My mother found a designer who’s able to make the dress in the next three months.”

My eyebrow pops up as I open the fridge. “You’ve already decided what dress you want?”

“Yes, and you’re going to love it.”

Setting two rib-eye steaks down on the counter, I glance at Mariya as I tear the packaging open.

She seems to be fine, but I’m still worried. I’m not sure if she’s bottling everything up or just fucking superwoman.

She catches me watching her and smiles. “I’m really okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Well, unless you don’t feed me soon.”

Superwoman it is.

I was actually relieved when she had the panic attack and cried. No one can go through what she did and not break down.

But if it’s one thing I’ve learned, Mariya doesn’t cry easily. I hate that she sees it as a weakness because it’s not.

The Mariya I thought I knew before we got married and the one I’ve gotten to know are two different people. She comes across as a spoiled socialite, but once she lets you in, you see the confident, strong woman she is.

My little dynamite.

Wanting to do something special for her, I ask, “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

“Shopping.” Her eyes are glued to her phone, a glow of excitement on her face as she plans our wedding.

“Just shopping?”

“Yep. Sorry for you, but you got a wife who loves a life of luxury.”

I let out a chuckle as I roll up my sleeves to my elbows. “I don’t mind.”

I cut the steaks into thin slices and panfry them in olive oil and garlic. I add some Italian herbs and let the meat simmer in its juices while rinsing the vegetables.

“What are you making?” Mariya asks, her voice sounding different.

I turn my attention to her, and seeing her flushed cheeks, I ask, “Are you feeling okay? Feverish?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Pain?”

“Nope.”

“Why’s your face flushed?”

“I’m turned on from watching you cook,” she admits without batting an eye. “I love it when you roll up your sleeves.”

“Yeah?” I grin at her. “If I had known making stir-fry would be a turn-on for you, I’d have made it much sooner.”

I turn off the gas and rinse my hands. While drying them, I pin Mariya with a look. “Do you want another show, baby?”

“Hmm…” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. “No, I want you to make me come.”

Christ. I love how direct she is. There’s no having to pry information out of her.

Slowly I walk closer until I’m standing next to the couch. “You sure you’re up for an orgasm?” I gesture at her ribs.

“They’re fine. It’s been a month already. I have cobwebs that need clearing out.”

I take my time undressing for my woman, watching as desire darkens her eyes.

When I’m naked in front of her, she licks her lips. “Come closer and brace yourself over me.”

I press my right knee in the space between Mariya and the couch, and brace a hand on the armrest above her head. My cock is inches from her face.

“I’ve been dying to taste more of you,” she purrs. Her lips part, and I slowly push into the heat of her mouth.

Holy fucking shit.

Our eyes are locked as my cock jerks against her tongue.

The sight of her lips wrapped around me is so fucking erotic I know I’m not going to last long.

Mariya’s left hand grips my ass, and she tips her head slightly back. Her tongue twirls around my sensitive skin right before she sucks me deeper.

I thrust forward, and there’s zero gagging from my woman as I hit the back of her throat. She breathes through her nose, watching my every move with lust-filled eyes.

I grip the couch tighter and start to thrust, with each one hitting deeper until I’m fucking her throat.

“Christ,” I rasp, breathless as my balls tighten. “Fuck. Fuck.” I bury myself to the hilt, my body jerking as my wife takes every drop of me.

Pulling out, my mouth slams against hers, and I fucking kiss her senselessly before kneeling by her right leg. I shove her dress up and rip her panties from her body, then bury my face in her pussy.

Mariya lets out a cry, her left hand grabbing hold of my hair. I feel her rip a couple of strands out as I suck her clit and bite her sensitive flesh.

I brace my arm over her injured leg, careful not to hurt her as I go down on her so hard, she starts to orgasm within a minute. Not easing up on her, I push my finger inside her, stroking her hard to prolong the pleasure.

“Luca,” she cries. “Oh my God.”

I lose more hair, my wife’s a wildcat as she keeps my face locked between her legs until she’s had her fill of the orgasm.

Her breaths rush from her, then she flinches. “So good, but need painkillers, stat.”

I’m up on my feet in a flash and get her a glass of water with two tablets.

Once she’s taken them, I press a kiss to her abdomen before adjusting her dress. Leaning over her, I ask, “You okay?”

“I’m more than okay,” she smiles. “But you owe me panties. I liked that pair.”

“I’ll buy you all the panties you want,” I chuckle before claiming her mouth in a tender kiss.

“Food,” she mumbles against my lips.

When I reach for my boxers, Mariya says, “I want you naked, chef.”

I lock eyes with her. “You’re a fucking wet dream.”

“I know,” she chuckles, looking much happier.

I head back to the kitchen and finish preparing the meal. Not bothering with two plates, I carry one to the living room and sit down behind Mariya. She leans half against my chest and half against the couch.

I load a bite onto the fork, then bring it to her mouth. I watch as her lips part, and I feed her.

Having my wife eat from my hand, satisfaction fills my chest.

I take a bite, then feed her again, the corner of my mouth lifting.

I love the balance between us. Mariya’s direct and fucking strong, but she never tries to compete for absolute control in our relationship. It’s a give and take that’s hot as fuck.

There’s no doubt in my mind this woman was made for me. She’s my soul mate in every way.

When I pull up to the harbor, I see Viktor already talking with the men.

I climb out of the G-Wagon and walk to them. “Everything okay?”

Viktor glances at me. “Yeah, the shipment just came in. They’re offloading.”

“Good.” My eyes scan over our men, hard at work to get the job done as fast as possible.

“How did the doctor’s appointment go?” he asks.

“As well as can be expected. Mariya lost the function of her pinky and ring finger.”

Viktor lifts an eyebrow. “That’s better than the original prognosis.”

“Yeah.”

“But?”

“She’s handling it well.” I lock eyes with him. “A little too well.”

Viktor shrugs. “She’s always been like that. Once she fell off a bike. The woman ate gravel, knocked her head open, got up, and wanted to continue riding. Uncle Alexei lost his shit, but she gave him lip, saying it’s just a little cut.” He lets out a bark of laughter. “She needed five stitches.”

“So she’s not bottling everything up?”

“Nah, Mariya deals with shit and moves on. If she says she’s fine, then she means it.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Unless you pissed her off. Then fine means you better run.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “Noted.”

We walk toward the crates. “Update me on Kreshnik’s whereabouts.”

“Last I checked, he landed in Germany,” Viktor says. “He hasn’t moved since, which makes me think he lied about Bucharest.”

“That’s why I let him go.” I glance at Viktor. “So he’d take us straight to his boss.”

“Yeah,” Viktor agrees. “The fuckers are young and stupid. I’m keeping an eye on the apartment and will let you know if I see any movement.”

Knowing my in-laws are with Mariya, I spend the next five hours checking some of the weapons while our men make sure the order is correct so it can be delivered to Nikolas.

By the time we’re done loading the crates onto the back of the trucks bound for Canada, Viktor yawns loudly. “Fuck, I need sleep.”

“Go home. I’ll finish up here.”

“Home’s a war zone right now,” he mutters, a worried frown on his forehead, which is not something I see often.

“Trouble with Rosalie?”

He nods. “I swear, every fucking day, it feels as if she hates me more.”

I keep quiet because Viktor knows how I feel about the situation.

He lets out a harsh breath. “But come hell or high water, I’ll figure out a way to get through to her.”

I give him a pat on the back, then signal for the first truck to leave the yard.

“At least everything went well with the shipment.” I turn my attention back to Viktor. “Next week it’s the meeting in Peru. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yeah. I’ll get everything arranged for the meeting.”

“Thanks.”

Viktor rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Try to get some sleep.”

“I will.”

I watch my friend walk away, wondering how long he’s going to carry on with this madness of keeping Rosalie locked up.

It’s not your problem, Luca.

I signal for the last truck to leave, then walk to my vehicle so I can get my ass back home.