SOMETHING STARTLES ME AWAKE, and I let out a squeak once I realize what it is. Timofei is behind me, his hard length pressed against the crack of my ass, but that’s not what’s startled me awake.
One of his arms is wrapped around my chest from beneath the bed, and his hand is gripping tightly around my breast. The other hand is between my legs, and I feel one of his fingers gently sliding in and out of me while he kisses the side of my neck.
“Fei,” I exhale, using the name he likes as I slip an arm around the back of his head.
He sucks on my neck and bites down, which causes my entire body to shake a little. Then he slips his thigh between my legs and lifts my top leg with his. I feel open and vulnerable, but he can’t really see anything, so I try not to focus on that.
“How’s your sweet pussy, devochka?” he asks as his palm grinds against my clit.
If my center is sore, I definitely do not feel it right now.
Turning my head, I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “I’m good,” I whisper against his soft beard.
With a grunt, he pulls his finger out from inside of me and replaces it with his cock. I gasp at the sudden intrusion, the position something I’ve never experienced before. It feels so different.
Timofei presses two fingers against my clit as he starts to thrust inside of me, his hold tightening around my breasts as he does.
“Goddamn, Devvy, you’re so fucking tight. Made for me, devochka, weren’t you?” he rasps, his voice husky with sleep against my ear.
The nickname. Nobody has ever called me that before. I find that I absolutely love it. He’s my Fei and I’m his Devvy. I think for once in my life, my father has definitely made the right decision for me.
My thighs start to shake and my hips jerk, bucking against him as he starts to thrust harder inside of me. My fingers grip in the back of his hair as I cry out with my climax.
“Fuck,” Timofei roars.
He slams up inside of me so hard that It causes me to whimper. I feel spurts of his release fill me. It dawns on me, stupidly and far too late, that we aren’t using any form of birth control. “What happened?” he murmurs against my shoulder, nipping my skin gently as he stays planted inside of me.
“We haven’t used any birth control. I’m not on anything,” I say, trying to get away from him. He locks his arms around me.
“Devvy, baby,” he murmurs, squeezing me a bit more. “I know you’re not on anything. I’m trying to get you pregnant, devochka.”
My entire body freezes before he pulls out of me and then gathers me in his arms, my chest to his side. He slides one hand up my spine and twists his fingers in my hair as he tugs my neck back so that I’m forced to look at him. His cool blue eyes look into mine, never wavering, strong and steady.
“I don’t understand. We literally just met, Timofei,” I whisper.
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes searching and staying locked on mine at the same time. His brows furrow slightly. “Your father didn’t show you the contract,” he states.
I shake my head, though I don’t have to. It’s obvious to him, for whatever reason, that he didn’t.
“Devvy, you have to be pregnant within a year or there is no contract. You go back to your father, and we lose your family’s support,” he states, concern deep within his voice.
All the air in my lungs completely vanishes. I gasp for breath but nothing happens. Pregnant. I have to get pregnant, immediately. I’m not ready to be a mother. I don’t want to be a mother right now.
My eyes well with tears at the knowledge that this was in my contract. I don’t understand how me having a child right now has anything to do with territories.
I know that my father’s territory is smack dab between two Russian territories, and they lived fairly peacefully until one of my father’s men decided he wanted to take over, bringing the Bratva into a war. But why a baby? What does that have to do with anything?
I shiver, if Timofei doesn’t hold up his end of this ridiculous contract, that means that not only do I go back, but that I’ve shamed my father as well. If I shame my father, there’s no telling what he’ll do to me, or who he’ll ship me off to.
I lift my hand to my neck and hold onto the column of my throat. I have to get pregnant, and fast. I can’t go back to my father, I refuse.
“Talk to me,” he urges. It’s sweet, the concern he has for me.
The only thing I can think about is how my father will react if I’m not pregnant in a year. What he’ll do to me, where he’ll send me.
Then my mind shifts to the fact that this is a baby, and I’m eighteen, and how the hell am I going to be a wife and a mother all at the same time? I’m still a teenager.
My eyes fill with tears, and I can’t stop them from flowing.
Timofei’s hand in my hair tightens, and he gently, but firmly, tugs my head back a bit before he barks, “Speak to me,” in my face.
“If I don’t have a baby, there’s no telling what he’ll do to me—where he’ll send me. But, Fei, I’m only eighteen. I don’t even know how to be a wife, let alone a mother,” I whisper as the tears continue to flow down my cheeks.
He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Shh, don’t worry over it, devochka. You’re mine, remember? It will all be all right,” he coos as he wraps his arms around me.
I shove my face into his neck and cry a little more as his hands soothingly run up and down my back. The ringing of our hotel phone interrupts my crying, and I watch as Timofei reaches for it.
“We’re leaving at noon,” he practically growls. “Everybody? Papa?” he asks. “See you in an hour,” he grumbles then turns to me. “My sister, her husband, and about twenty other people have decided they’d like to have brunch with us downstairs. There’s no telling them no, Devvy. We meet in thirty minutes,” he announces. He grins and then rolls out of bed, standing with his back to me, completely naked.
I exhale at the sight of his tattooed back. He turns his neck, craning his head to look at me in question. “I didn’t know you had so many tattoos. It was dark last night,” I murmur.
“Stupid shit I did as a kid to look cool. My papa has reminded me more than once that I’ve yet to earn most of them,” he shrugs.
I tip my head to the side in question, not understanding his comment about earning the tattoos.
“Is there anything the Irish have to show the deeds they’ve done in the organization?” he asks.
I shake my head. My father has a few tattoos, and so do my brothers, but nothing major. Nothing as grand as what Timofei has, a tiger’s head encompassing his entire back. It looks almost real, except for the fact that it’s a unique shade of blue.
I watch as he turns around, and this time I control my gasp. I was so nervous last night that I didn’t even notice the ink on his torso. He has a Russian church with domes on his chest, a very detailed spider on his shoulder, and a crucifix that is on his side from armpit down to hip.
Then my eyes travel the length of his body, and I notice he has stars on each one of his knees. My eyes take in his arms. One is completely bare, but the other is littered with even more ink, all the way to the top of his hand and fingers.
“I don’t understand,” I murmur.
His eyes narrow slightly and he’s yanked his vulnerability away from me again, closing himself off. “You don’t need to, Devyn. Just know, every man in the Bratva who has ink, nine times out of ten, they’ve earned every single stroke of the needle. I haven’t earned all of mine because I was a spoiled ass fucking brat.”
“But you’ve earned some of them?” I ask. His jaw hardens as his nostrils flare.
“Yeah, and I’m about to earn some new ones, too. None of this is your concern,” he snaps.
He’s standing naked, his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed at me. I choose to get to my knees, my slip covering me as I crawl over to him, hesitantly placing my hands on his chest. “I like them. They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before, Fei. I don’t need to know what you have to do to earn more as long as you come home to me.”
I suck in a breath when he wraps one hand around my waist and fists my hair with his other at the back of my head tugging and causing my neck to arch. I keep my eyes on him and my face calm. My heart is pounding inside of my chest and threatening to jump out of my ribs, I’m so nervous.
“I will never leave you vulnerable, devochka, not if I can help it. I will protect you with my life, Devvy. No matter what happens to me, you will always be safe,” he stats ominously. It doesn’t help my frantically beating heart, and I give a slight jerk of my head to show my understanding. “Now, let’s shower, then we’ll go downstairs and you can get to know my people, your new people,” he grins, all anger and irritation somehow melted away.
Timofei releases me and turns to walk in the bathroom. Once he’s in the doorway, he looks back at me and lifts his chin. I scramble off of the bed and follow him, scared that if I deny him he’ll get angry again. I have no read on him, on his personality or moods. It seems like he can switch off his anger as quickly as it comes on, and that scares me.
Timofei presses his hand against my lower back as we make our way to the elevator. He received a text about five minutes ago from his brother-in-law, informing him that they had arrived and that everything was set up in the private room. Timofei explained that big family style meals are their thing, always have been. For every occasion, for every party, there is also a big meal that follows with this same small group of people that he considers friends and family.
“Fei,” I murmur. We stop walking as he looks down at me. We’re only a few feet from the room where the rest of the party waits. “Do we have to go to this, I just…” I trail off. Timofei smirks, shaking his head.
“My sister is in there, my nephew, and a bunch of other close friends. All people I love and respect, devochka, all people that are excited to get to know you better,” he explains.
I honestly just want to go back to the room and try to process everything, including the baby information I just learned about. Except, the way he talks about them, it makes me want to walk into that room. I think about what he said in regards to the tattoos, what he’s eluded to for the future, and all of it terrifies me.
He doesn’t let me freak out, not for even another breath. I watch as he reaches for the door that leads into the room. Timofei opens the door and I hold my breath, sticking close to his back, and my eyes widen when I see the room full of people. There is also a small table off to the side that has too many children to count.
“Kiska was hungry, and she was refusing to help with the kids unless we brought her with us,” a curvy blonde says as she stands.
In fact, everybody in the room stands, aside from the children. Then they start to clap and yell their congratulations.
“We always sit boys on one side, girls on the other, but we saved you two seats in the middle,” Oksana states with a wide smile as she waves her hand toward two empty chairs.
Timofei wraps his hand around mine and tugs us toward the table. We sit down and, immediately, a waiter appears to take our drink orders. I’m surprised when Timofei orders a vodka. I order a water and Oksana says to bring a dozen mimosas with my water as well.
“You’ll like them, and you probably need something to help relax you after your wedding and everything,” she shrugs, holding her baby. He’s sitting on her lap, his back resting against her chest as he looks around at all of the action.
“You’re never going to remember all of our names, but I feel like we need to have introductions anyway,” a pretty blonde says, the one that danced with Timofei last night. “I’m Haleigh, I live in California. This is Tatyana,” she says, pointing to the other blonde, the one who talked about a girl being hungry when we walked in.
“My teenager is over at the kids table helping us out. Her name is Kiska,” Tatyana says with a warm smile.
“I’m Emiliya,” a dark haired, brunette with a Russian accent states. Her blue eyes look me over, and she watches me, causing me to squirm. She’s extremely intimidating. “I didn’t expect black hair. I thought the Irish were mostly redheads,” she says. I can’t help but laugh.
“I thought Russian’s had blonde hair,” I shrug, keeping eye contact with her. She grins before she turns to Haleigh. “I like her already. Young, but not too weak.”
Oksana introduces several other women, Inessa, Quinn, and Ashley. The one person I don’t see from looking around is Timofei’s father, Pasha, and I’m grateful, extremely grateful. He scares the absolute shit out of me.
As soon as the food arrives, the women all start talking. A petite blonde next to me, who was introduced as Ashley, turns and looks me over before she speaks. “How are you really doing?”
I’m surprised by her question, but she doesn’t look like she’s fishing for any information. I’m a pretty good judge when someone is trying to play me, and she looks like she’s genuinely concerned. I still don’t answer verbally. I decide to give her a smile and shrug.
“I’m married to the Pakhan of Staten Island,” she states. My eyes widen in surprise. “Yakov is mine,” she smiles with a small laugh. “We’re going to be friends, you and me, since our husband’s will be working so closely together. Tell me, how are you really feeling?”
“Nervous,” I admit. She frowns slightly in confusion, so I explain a bit. “I didn’t know the details of our contract. I didn’t know that I have to get pregnant within a year or it’s void. I’m scared of what will happen if I have to go back,” I say with trembling lips.
“Nobody will let that happen,” the brunette, Inessa, states from the other side of Ashley. “You’re one of us now, baby or not. No way will he send you anywhere. The Russian men do not dismiss their women so easily.”
I think about Inessa’s words, and Ashley gives my hand a squeeze as she turns back to her plate of food. I want to think that after last night and this morning, that Timofei wouldn’t just toss me back to my father because it states it in the contract. But I don’t know. I honestly do not know. I don’t know him.
I want to believe that he feels something for me. I hate it, too. I hate that I was forced to marry a stranger and now, instead of focusing on getting to know him and hopefully liking what I find out, I’m going to be worried about this. It will be hanging over my head every month while I wait to see if I’m staying or leaving.
Why does it all have to be so complicated?
“Don’t worry about anything. Hey, you get a honeymoon!” Inessa snaps, pointing at me. “I don’t think any of us really got one,” she says, furrowing her brows.
“Oksana did,” Tatyana laughs.
“Being carted out of my own wedding over Mika’s shoulder and then getting thrown on a plane headed for Russia was not a honeymoon,” she frowns.
“You want a vacation, lapochka?” Mika calls out from the other side of the table. Oksana’s eyes widen. “Pick a place, we’ll go; but Misha comes with us.”
“It’s not a honeymoon if you bring a baby, Mika,” she says, shaking her head with a grin.
I watch as Mika points toward her, and I can tell he’s fighting his own smile. “Wherever you want to go, lapochka, I’ll take you. But I want all of my family together.”
I watch in awe as Oksana’s eyes soften. Something that looks like, understanding crosses her features before she speaks. “Okay, how about Rome?” she asks just above a whisper.
He shrugs. “Pizza and ice cream, fucking shit,” he chuckles shaking his head. “I’ll take you, Oksana.”
“He loves her,” Timofei whispers in my ear, startling me and making me jump. I turn to face him and look at him with bewilderment. “They met once, at a party where my sister was supposed to choose her husband. She chose him,” Timofei explains.
I don’t know why he’s telling me this or what he means by it all. He doesn’t explain himself, he just turns and starts talking to someone else.
“Give it time, Devyn,” Ashley murmurs next to me.
“Give what, time?” I ask.
“Everything. When you get back, you, me, and Inessa, if she’s not knee deep in work, will go out and have some girl time together. We’ll all get to know each other, and you can ask us whatever you want to about this life. Anything at all.”
I jerk my head in a nod, not wishing to talk about anything else. I am so confused, talks of contracts and babies, and love. I just want to curl into a ball and cry.
I’m also extremely confused about my husband, about his talk of love. I want that. I always have wanted that, but I didn’t think it would be possible. Now that he’s speaking about it, it makes me hope. Hoping is the last freaking thing I need to do right now.