Mine to Keep

by Rhenna Morgan

  His fingers tightened against her thighs, and the muscles in his shoulders, arms and belly clenched. Just thinking about her with any other man made him want to commit murder. The implication that her pleasure with them had been secondary to their own made him want to bleed the fools slowly. He shifted to his knees, keeping his eyes locked on her body so she couldn’t see the roiling aggression inside him. He rolled her to her stomach and centered her so each leg rested on either side of his. “Then the men you’ve been with are fools.”

  Even without the visual, she must have heard the anger in his voice because she tried to twist and study his face.

  He caught her with a hand at her shoulder and braced himself above her with his other hand beside her head. His throbbing cock brushed the lush curve of her ass, drawing something just shy of a frustrated snarl from his chest. Using his nose, he nudged her dark hair off her neck and nipped her nape. “I am no fool.” Using his lips and beard, he teased the skin along her shoulder. Caressed the soft line of one hip and beautiful ass. “I will always see to your pleasure.” He trailed his thumb between her ass cheeks. “Me.” He squeezed her hip and ground his cock upward on the same path his thumb had taken. “Only me.”

  A tiny whimper squeezed past her lips and she lifted her hips. “Please tell me you have condoms somewhere close.”

  Condoms.

  A wise request. One that wouldn’t have had to even be uttered if it was any other woman beneath him. He was always safe. Never dared risk his health or claims of pregnancy on the rare occasions he let someone this close.

  But with Bonnie, he didn’t want one. Wanted to feel her with nothing between them. Wanted to bind her to him in the most primitive way. Mark her. Claim her for his own.

  Not yet.

  Soon.

  Even the beast knew such a request was too much. Would fracture the fragile connection he’d just begun to forge. With that begrudging acknowledgement, he reached beyond her to the nightstand and snagged a condom from inside the drawer.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said as soon as she saw what he held and dropped her forehead to the mattress. As soon as he sat back on his haunches, she pushed back to her knees and wriggled her incredible ass. “I knew you’d be the Boy Scout type.”

  Him? A Boy Scout? The idea was ludicrous. One he’d disavow her of soon enough. But not before he showed her how good—how powerful—their connection could be. He slid the condom into place and palmed her hips, pulling her upright until her ass was cradled in his lap and her back flush against his torso. He nuzzled her neck and the shell of her ear. “You’re talking too much, moya koroleva.”

  She sighed and tilted her head farther to one side, giving him more room to work. “I am?”

  “Mmm.” With her knees anchored open and wide by his own and her hands caressing his flanks, her body was perfectly exposed. Her beautiful breasts thrust forward and her still swollen clit straining for his attention. He teased the inside of her thighs. Dragged his thumbs along the seam where her legs and sex met. “I find I like the sounds you make when I’m touching you much better.”

  Her head dropped back on his shoulder, and she let out a shaky exhalation. “Sounds?” Her hips rolled forward, wordlessly begging for contact on her clit. “What sounds?”

  He palmed one breast and gently pinched her nipple. Rolled it between his fingertips.

  She sucked in a sharp gasp and her hips jerked.

  “Like that one,” he said, continuing his work. He kissed and licked the tender juncture where her neck and shoulders met and trailed the fingers of his free hand through her slick folds.

  She whimpered and dug her nails into his hips.

  “And that one.” He circled her clit and shifted so his shaft glided easy through her labia. Searching. Building her need back up to match his own. Savoring the slick sounds of her release against his length and her sensual moans. He pressed her forward. Anchored his hands on either side of hers and notched the tip of him inside her. “But the one I want the most, is this one.”

  He plunged inside her.

  Filled her hot pussy in one thrust and reveled in her strangled cry. In the delighted mewl she made as he began to pump inside her. The greedy encouragements she offered as he built a demanding rhythm and the slap of his pelvis against hers.

  She was his.

  A perfect fit.

  Born with passion and fire and attitude to match his own.

  Born for him.

  He worked the tiny nub between her legs. Followed each undulation of her hips with his own and soared on each labored breath sawing past her lips. “Roman...”

  One word. Just his name on her lips, but he knew what it meant. He felt it. The staggering orgasm building inside her even as his own pressed close. Drew his balls up painfully tight and threatened to overwhelm him with its power.

  “Let go, moya koroleva.” It was more plea than demand. A prayer. “Give me what’s mine.”

  She whimpered, the quivering muscles in her sex the only warning before she seated herself fully on his length and her channel fisted him, ripping his own orgasm free.

  He shouted. Ground his cock inside her and held her pinned by her hips while his shaft jerked and spilled his release.

  His.

  He would see to it.

  Would win her and keep her for his own no matter what it took. No matter how long.

  He pulled her backward and wrapped his arms around her. Banded one arm low on her hips and the other across her chest while he guided them down. Stroked his shaft in and out in an easy glide and trailed unhurried kisses along her neck and shoulders until her body eased against his.

  She petted his thighs, the back of her head lolling against his chest. “That was...wow.” She rolled her head and met his gaze, her eyelids beautifully weighted and the satiation in her gaze exactly what he wanted. The smile that played on her lips was both playful and tender. “Who knew bossy-in-the-bedroom could be so much fun?”

  Oh, he hadn’t even begun to scratch that surface yet. Had endless ideas to explore and an insatiable need to learn what gave her pleasure. “I told you,” he said, not giving a damn how much of his feelings he exposed with his words. “Your needs are paramount.” He pressed his hand around the front of her throat. Watched the weight of his statement register behind her eyes while her pulse quickened beneath his fingers. “In time, you will trust me. With everything.”

  She wanted to argue. It was written in every line of her expression. But for the first time since he’d known her, there was consideration, too. A foothold of hope.

  He kissed her. A gentle one designed to waylay her worries and keep her rooted in the present.

  He slid his cock from the warmth of her body, shifted her so she lay stretched out in the center of his bed and dragged the comforter and sheets out from under her. He covered her just as quickly and pressed another lingering kiss to her lips. “You will stay here.”

  When he moved to the side of the bed and stood, she shot upright. “Where are you going?”

  He shot a pointed look to the spent condom then raised his eyebrow.

  “Oh. Right.” She lay back down on her side and followed his trek to the bathroom, a sheepish expression on her face. “I thought you were going to leave me and sleep in the guest room.”

  He hid his smile, making quick work of cleaning up, turning off the lights and returning to the bed. The darkness might have shielded the sincerity on his face as he slid beneath the covers and pulled her tight to his side, but it was in his response, nonetheless. “I told you, moya koroleva. I will not leave you. And you will never sleep without me again.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  One thing Bonnie had accepted as a part of human nature was that men were always different the morning after you first had sex. Some lost interest the second the hunt was over and disappeared completely. Some got bossy
and acted like everything that was yours the night before was now theirs. Some turned into clinging monkeys that made you wonder what the heck you’d ever seen in them.

  But Roman Kozlov?

  He was a whole different ball game. A variant she hadn’t seen coming, and worse, didn’t have a clue how to contend with.

  From the passenger seat of his truck, she stole a peek at him behind the wheel. A feat she likely couldn’t have pulled off without him noticing if he hadn’t been on the phone with Kir for the last mile and focused on lunchtime traffic.

  Yep. Still the same guy. No outward changes she could call out specifically. His attire wasn’t even that different. Just another long-sleeved tee—this one a deep hunter green with the Indian Motorcycle logo in the center—and faded button-fly Levi’s with black combat boots.

  But there was something different.

  A subtle shift in his demeanor that defied description. Her first glimpse of it had been when she’d woken to the sound of his muted footfalls on the bedroom’s plush carpeting. She’d lifted her head from his thick down pillows to find him grinning down at her with a cup of coffee in his outstretched hand and not a damned stitch of clothing on his body.

  Christ, just thinking about that image now made her nearly swallow her tongue. The guy was impressive as hell fully clothed, but naked? Holy freaking crap, he was hot. She’d scrambled up so fast to cover her embarrassment by taking the coffee that she’d almost splashed the scalding brew on her girly bits. A fact that clearly hadn’t escaped Roman because he’d chuckled as he’d carefully slid into bed beside her, tucked her tight against him and proceeded to enjoy his own coffee and a leisurely perusal of Reddit on his iPad.

  Like they’d been together for years, or something.

  The hour or so it’d taken for her to get ready after he’d announced their upcoming trip to the mall had been even more of the same. A second cup of coffee delivered while she was in the shower. A lingering perusal of her wrapped in her towel while she put on her makeup. Helping her put on her jacket before they left the house and the possessive hand he kept on the small of her back as he’d walked her to his truck.

  Not smothering.

  Not distant.

  Not an asshole.

  Just weird.

  Really. Fucking. Weird.

  What was even more disconcerting? She liked it. A lot.

  “Are you angry with the windshield, moya koroleva?”

  She whipped her head his direction, the depth of his voice snatching her attention in a second. “Huh?”

  “The windshield,” he said with a knowing grin. “You were frowning at it. I thought, perhaps, it had made you angry.”

  She checked the Bluetooth display in the truck’s center console. “What happened to Kir?”

  “We finished our conversation.”

  Well, duh. Obviously. She’d just had her head too far up her own ass to notice. Which, when she thought about it, had kind of been the theme since the day she’d first met him. He really had a way of scrambling a girl’s wits.

  She cleared her throat. “I was just trying to figure out where we’re going.” Not a total lie. When it came to shopping, she generally stuck to two or three secondhand stores over in East Carrollton for shopping.

  “To the mall.” He turned off Poydras Street and drove past Spanish Plaza. For a second, she thought he was going to pull into the Nordstrom Rack just south of the plaza. When he kept on driving, her panic eased a fraction and she let out a relieved sigh. “You know, malls are full of people. Annoying people.”

  “Yes. And full of options for you to choose a coat from as well.”

  See? Totally the same bossy dude, but also courteous and kind. “But it’s mass humanity. Lots and lots of people in a confined space.”

  “Then we will find you a coat quickly and move on to the rest of our day.”

  “We have more on our agenda?”

  “Yes.”

  She opened her mouth to pry him for more, but nearly choked when he pulled into the parking lot for the Shops at Canal Place.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  She wiggled in her seat. “Um. I don’t think this place is going to have my style.”

  The surprise and concern on his face was so genuine, it would have made her laugh out loud if she hadn’t been close to a full-on freak-out. “But all of the best stores are here.”

  “All of the most expensive stores are here.” She motioned to her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m kind of a bargain basement gal, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Comprehension registered on his face, but rather than turn the truck around he smiled and shrugged. “You do not need bargains now. You will have the best.”

  Oh, brother. This was a disaster waiting to happen. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and thumbed up the mall’s directory on her web browser. Maybe a little proactive searching would get them in and out faster. She clicked on J. Crew.

  Ugh. No.

  Banana Republic?

  Better, if she stuck to the casual stuff. But still a little tailored for her tastes.

  Ohh...the Anthropologie place looked cool. She punched on the link for coats and—“Are you fucking kidding me? Who pays $450 for a coat?”

  Having found a parking space big enough to accommodate his massive truck, Roman put the gear shift in park, frowned at the phone in her hands and leaned over for a better look. It was a mix of Sherpa and denim with a faux fur panel in the middle. “You like it?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s cool looking, but not $450 cool looking. That’s insane.”

  He straightened, shook his head and grunted before opening his door. “We will see.” Other than that, he kept his silence the whole way into the mall, his steps determined and his expression utterly unfazed by the environment around him.

  Bonnie hustled to keep up with him, which was no easy task when a girl wanted to gawk at the same time. “Seriously? They need three floors worth of stores?” She craned her head toward the long skylighted ceiling overhead which only made the place look even grander. Planted at irregular intervals on every floor were pretty sizable palm trees to balance out the never-ending rows of ivy. “You sure we don’t need a map? Or breadcrumbs?”

  Roman steered her left at the glass-and-mirror elevator. “There is no need. We are here.”

  The Saks Fifth Avenue logo stretched large and lovely in front of them.

  Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and eyed the fancy counters just beyond the entrance and the perfectly coifed salesclerks working behind them.

  Stopping just a step away from her, Roman faced her. “What is wrong?”

  She dipped her head toward the sign. “That place is wrong.”

  “Why?”

  There had to be a good reason. She was reasonably sure she could come up with something logical if the little minions in her head would stop pulling every panic lever they could find. “I don’t know.” She shrugged and took another step back. “Because it just is.”

  His expression softened. His words, on the other hand, were designed to rile and challenge. “Surely you are not afraid to merely look.”

  “Who said anything about being afraid?” She scoffed and crossed her arms. “More like being practical.”

  “As am I.” He prowled the two steps to her side and lowered his voice. “My woman needs a coat. Something that will last and that is well made.” He splayed his palm low on her back and nudged her forward. “And so, we start in a place that will give her both.”

  Fighting him wasn’t an option. Not without digging in her heels like a stubborn three-year-old and throwing a fit. Still, just because she went in the store didn’t mean that she had to like anything. She’d just have to be indifferent. Make sure her eyes didn’t linger on any particular item too long.

  They were two steps beyond t
he entrance when she grumbled aloud without thinking. “Holy shit, the place even smells good.” Realizing what she’d admitted, she tacked on a little extra snark. “Probably some kind of shopping narcotic that makes people spend money on expensive shit they don’t need.”

  Roman chuckled at that, but kept scanning the huge space—presumably for the coat section. He must’ve found it, because his eyes narrowed the way a hunter’s would when an innocent deer tottered into view and prodded her back into motion.

  The bad news? The coat section was all the way at the back of the store, which meant she got a serious load of all the clothes along the way and, son of a biscuit eater, Saks had some cool stuff. She thought for sure they’d have little old lady and uptight duchess stuff on every rack.

  By the time they got to the coats she was slightly out of breath and seriously doubting how good of a poker face she could muster. Roman paused at the edge of the ridiculously large outerwear section and motioned her forward. “Go. Find one.”

  Jesus. She’d make it all of two racks in without a longing sideways glance at something. Except maybe the puffer jackets. They always made her feel like the Michelin Man. She ambled that direction and feigned a bored expression.

  Black puffer.

  Brown puffer.

  Electric blue retro puffer.

  No, no, no, Bonnie. Keep moving. Puffers make you look fat.

  By some miracle from on high, she managed not to hesitate and kept going. Roman walked the aisle parallel to her and pretended to look as well, but she knew damned well he was watching. The same way he’d watched everything about her since she’d woken up this morning.

  Fuzzy puffer. A cool leopard print one, but still high on the bulky side.

  Eww. A rainbow puffer. Definitely not her thing. She shook her head, turned for the next row—and froze. Now, that was a coat. Why it was in the puffer section was beyond her because it was more of a biker jacket cut at a three-quarter length, but done in a kickass shiny ivory leather. The spread lapel was a thick shearling that just begged her to run her fingers over it and the zipper was asymmetrical.