by Bethany-Kris
THE DARKEST LIES TRILOGY
BOOK 3
BETHANY-KRIS
For all those Russian Guns fans ... you’ve waited long enough. XO
CONTENTS
THE MARRIAGE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS
Copyright
ONE
Roman wanted to touch Karine while she stood across from him—tuck the stray strands of wavy hair that had fallen out from behind her ear—feel the shivers race over her shoulder blade when his fingertips glided down the column of her throat. But he made do with her palms tucked inside his larger hands as the officiant stood at their sides at the little makeshift church. The inside looked even less like an actual church than the outside—signage and proper placement could really do a lot for things.
The man in his robe was reading from a book, smiling at his own words and putting on quite a show. At least, the guy did seem to enjoy his job and some people might enjoy this kind of thing. Although, Roman didn’t care about the words, or much for the man speaking them—it was all a means to an end.
And a very beautiful beginning.
He just wanted to be married to this girl—he wanted to be bound to Karine for life. Even if the fraudulent paperwork made the marriage illegal, it was the act itself that couldn’t be undone. A bell that would never unring.
Besides, it wasn’t like following the law had ever made much of a difference to men like him before—it certainly wouldn’t matter to Dima to learn Karine had married Roman in a ceremony. Legal or not, that didn’t change what it was.
Or what it meant.
If she belonged to Roman, like he was tying himself to her, then nobody, not even Dima would take her away from him. He would die to make it true. There was no cost he would not pay.
The woman who stood close by was also the official witness to the wedding—the officiant’s wife wore a bright smile throughout her husband’s theatrics. No doubt, it was something she had seen a hundred times.
He was just more interested in Karine than the finer details of the happenings around him. He was fine pretending nobody else existed but him and her. Her in that red jumper, with her silky dark hair laying in messy waves over her shoulders. Her with her eyes so bright, and a sweet mouth stretched into the prettiest smile.
Could she feel his racing heartbeats through his fingertips?
Was she as excited as he was?
As eager?
They would walk out of there as man and wife—till death did they part. And he still wasn’t even entirely sure they were going to make it out of everything else alive, let alone this.
But she didn’t stop staring back.
And that smile ...
Those nerves that he was too proud of a man to show quieted with her in front of him, hands still steady in his. At one point, he had to repeat words after the officiant. Nothing religious, Roman had been quick to specify, not even a single verse. It was the basic, legal wording the officiant technically had to use. Karine repeated the same.
Roman hadn’t attended many weddings in his lifetime—the one’s he’d been forced to suffer through had been worsened by hangovers and stolen drug-fogged memories. So, he wasn’t completely aware of the proceedings. He simply did what he was told until finally the moment came that he’d been waiting for.
The only part that really mattered.
“You may kiss your bride.”
He lunged at a laughing Karine who had already pulled her hands from his to reach back for him. Engulfing her in his arms, he pulled her to his broad chest, crushing her there in the hard wall of his hold. Staring up at him, he realized—not for the first time, but certainly in the most significant way—how much smaller she appeared against him, barely toppling five-foot-three without a pair of heels. But she liked it—he saw that in her stare when those hungry eyes of hers locked on his mouth.
She liked being swallowed by him, inside his embrace, close to his heart. Always watching up at him through thick, lowered lashes. There, he thought she felt safe. He hoped it was always that way.
“Well,” Karine whispered the moment their lips started to graze, “kiss me.”
He made it good, too.
Bruising and breathless.
Undoubtedly uncomfortable for the other two people in the room watching, although he gave them credit for the fact they didn’t stop clapping until he finally pulled away from his grinning, new wife.
Karine weaved her fingers in his hair, her lips grazing the side of his stubbly cheek as she said, “This is not how I pictured my wedding day.”
“Someday, we’ll do it again—exactly how you want it.”
He took her hand in his, and brought it to his mouth to give her fingertips the gentlest of kisses.
She shook her head, tugging her fingers out of his to run them over his mouth and chin. “That’s not what I meant, Roman.”
She, too, had seemed to have forgotten about the others in the room. Or maybe they were just more important.
“What I pictured as my wedding day was going to be the end of my life. What little of it that I had. This is not what I was told it would be, and this was perfect.”
Well, then ...
Never one to be at a loss for words, he framed her delicate face with both palms, and said the only thing that really felt appropriate after her admission. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Roman.”
Karine kissed him that time—leaning up to her tiptoes to press her lips to his before nipping at his tongue when he dared to taste her.
His hands travelled down the deep cut in the back of her jumper, the pads of his fingers dancing dangerously low on her silken skin. Enough to make him hard. Just to know he was touching his wife. This was his wife. The baser part of his nature reveled in the idea that she was his to adore, spoil, enjoy however he wanted to, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.
The rational side of Roman reminded him there were still people watching, and he didn’t care to let them see what came next.
“Come on, let’s get outta here,” he said, groaning the words against Karine’s teasing kiss.
With the very last of his control ...
She at least took mercy on his soul.
*
Roman carried Karine over the threshold of the room he’d booked for their honeymoon—it only seemed fair to keep some traditions. Even if they were being silly, it made her smile and laugh. That’s all he wanted.
Karine was beyond fascinated with Las Vegas, and as things were going well—there were no apparent dangers—Roman felt like they could do anything. Within reason. If anything, maybe for a few days, the two could live like nobody was watching.
Wouldn’t that be something?
He had booked them one of the best suites at The Venetian Resort with a view some people would have killed for. More than anything, he just wanted to give Karine everything her heart could possibly desire while they still had the chance to enjoy it.
She kept her arms locked around his neck when he carried her in. Tipping her head back to look up at the intricately engraved ceiling of their suite, she marveled at the many details covered in gold leaf.
“I
don’t think I have ever seen anything as beautiful as this,” Karine remarked.
“No, I haven’t, either.”
When she met his stare again, he’d not once looked at anything but her.
Karine’s smile bloomed instantly, her next words bubbling out with a laugh. “You keep saying you don’t know anything about weddings, and yet you know exactly what to do to make it all perfect.”
Roman spun a slow circle in the middle of the large room with her still cradled in his arms. “I don’t know much about weddings—that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about loving you the right way. I’ve had some great examples of love in my family.”
He put her down, but Karine clung to him sinking into his body. Never too far away, he knew. She didn’t like that at all. His hands traveled down her back until he cupped her ass.
“Your mother and father, you mean?”
“My grandparents, too,” he added. “Not that I ever really understood it before you. That’s okay, though. I’m not sure I was supposed to.”
She nuzzled her face in his chest, breathing deeply like she was sucking in the very scent of him directly to her lungs. He stroked her hair, staring out through the glass wall that overlooked the view of the Las Vegas strip. God knew he had better things to consider, but he couldn’t ignore the sinking of his stomach.
Karine wouldn’t know he dared to do it.
That he let his mind go there.
For a few moments, he allowed himself to think about the fact that this was not forever. This feeling, no matter how good and wanted—like they were invincible and their journey together would be easy just because they had each other—none of it was permanent.
Or even real.
Their current circumstance was not forever. The truth was harsh, and too concerning for him to put the weight on Karine’s shoulders when he was sure she already had enough to handle. Roman didn’t know what the future held for them. Everything could go tits up tomorrow, and that alone stayed like a heavy lump of cement deep in his gut.
Never far from his mind.
Not that he wanted it there.
Not now.
So, he took Karine’s face in his hands and gave her another deep kiss, letting the seconds tick by them in silence as the taste of her on the tip of his tongue chased away those bad thoughts he shouldn’t have let ruin their moment.
Ending with a kiss on the tip of her nose, Roman winked, saying, “Time for an important decision. You have to decide whether you want me to fuck you right now, or go shopping.”
Karine’s laughter really was infectious. There was never a time when he wasn’t amazed at how happy she was. The way her whole face beamed was truly a sight to behold, and for some reason, he was the person who could make her do this.
How had that happened?
Love was crazy.
“That’s probably the hardest choice a girl has to make,” she replied through a wide grin.
Roman only shrugged.
It really was up to her, though he had a side he was leaning toward if he was being honest. Who could blame him?
The very tease that was Karine in her sexy, red jumper-dress, the low dips in the back and front showing off just enough to make his mouth water, hadn’t been far from his mind all damn day.
It was a good thing his wife—he still couldn’t believe that she was his wife—seemed to be able to read his mind as she let her fingers graze the red straps and lower down the deep dip along her chest. Her breasts heaved. When she slowly parted her lips, he knew what her answer was going to be.
“Fuck me,” she said.
*
“I can’t decide which is the better view,” he said, smirking at her.
Karine stood with her back to the glass wall of windows facing the bright lights and a city that never slept. She had stripped down to nothing but her bright red thong. A good choice, even if it did tempt his control, for their wedding night.
Roman couldn’t take his eyes off her, so his statement had been a false one nonetheless. Nothing in the world was more beautiful than her.
“Tell me how to make it a better one,” she told him, dragging her teeth over her lower lip. “The view, I mean.”
“It’s already perfect, but I still want you to touch yourself, Karine,” he said, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The smoke rose up to the ceiling, clouding his vision as it passed his face, but he didn’t look away from the sight of Karine letting her thumbs drag over the peaks of her firm, pink nipples. “Imagine it’s me touching you, the way you shiver when the rough side of my thumb slides down the center of your stomach.”
She did, her soft gasps coming out shaky and high. Then, he took a long drag off his cigarette, making the end burn with a bright, orange glow. His cock was thick and hard in his pants, and he did nothing to hide the visible line of his erection already bulging.
Karine’s hand dipped beneath the lace waist of the thong, her pleased whine letting him know she was wet and already tender to the touch. She rubbed her clit, and then slipped a finger into herself the way Roman would have done.
But he was sure it wasn’t enough.
Not quite like his touch.
Her tits shuddered as desire coursed through her body, the delicate line of her shoulders falling forward with her breathy moan. When she thrust another finger into herself, she stepped backwards, pressing against the glass.
From Roman’s position, it appeared like she was flying. Soaring over sin city. And that was all his patience could take.
It took him less than a minute to shed his own clothes. She still hadn’t managed to get herself off in that time.
A fucking shame.
He flicked the burning cigarette into a crystal ashtray next to the leather bucket chair, and went to her. With some force, he pulled her hand out of her thong, intent on doing the job himself, now. His hands were all over her, cupping her tits, and flicking her nipples with his thumbs until she trembled. His tongue left a wet, hot trail down the center of her torso. Her skin tasted of salt, and his pants of breath had gooseflesh blooming along her stomach.
He would have loved to do this forever.
Feel her.
Taste her.
Have her.
Once more, he was reminded just how fleeting these moments truly were for them—who knew when they’d be able to enjoy time alone like this again. As fast as the anger came and went, he’d still felt it.
It had still been there.
And it wasn’t fair.
Roman wanted this with Karine as much as he wanted it for her, too—for her to always be happy like this. Carefree and dreamy when he touched her. He wanted it to last forever.
But it wouldn’t.
That’s why it also hurt.
He slipped her thong down her thighs. It swished to her ankles as he pressed himself into her until her backside stuck firmly to the glass under his weight.
Could people see them from below? If so, then he hoped they found themselves envious of Karine. Of how beautiful she was on display when she was being loved properly, and fucked well.
He took her face in both his hands, searching her ocean eyes darkened with bliss. She still had that lingering smile—it was like he almost couldn’t remember the Karine he’d first met. Perpetually afraid, always tired.
He vowed in that second to do everything he needed so that he would spend the rest of his life with this Karine.
His Karine.
When he lifted her up against the windows, Karine wrapped her legs around his hips. She was featherlight in his arms, and already shifting her hips to get even a brush of his cock along her slit. As she did finally sink down on his length, he was lost to the slick, silken heat encompassing his dick when he plowed in.
Her arms rested on his shoulders while her fingers toyed with the back of his neck, weaving in and out of his hair. He swallowed her soft moans with kisses, settling his cock deeper into her with every thrust until she was shuddering with each on
e.
Neither seemed to notice the thudding sounds they made—Roman drove himself into Karine, making her body rock against the glass window with a rhythmic beat. One of the only beats he knew how to keep, honestly.
He could see the sprawling Vegas city over her shoulder when his lavished attention at the spot on her neck that she loved for him to kiss, and for a moment, they were on top of the world.
What was he thinking about before he started fucking her? He couldn’t even remember, his mind was already too hazy from the whimpering sounds his wife made in his ear as he brought her closer to her sweet release. It was a glorious place to be.
“Roman ...”
Her whisper of his name fell like a prayer between them. She watched him through lust-hooded eyes with pouty lips swollen from his kiss.
“Tell me anything,” he murmured.
He didn’t stop, never once breaking his pace while her breaths came out fast, and ragged. She struggled to form the words, but when she did, he hadn’t been ready for them.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
Because everybody did, he knew.
In one way or another, everybody left her.
Roman couldn’t look away from her, but if he said those exact words, they would be a lie. Life wasn’t that simple, and certainly not the one he chose to live. He still wasn’t going to lie to Karine—or make promises he couldn’t keep.
“Promise me.”
That time, she spoke sharper.
Desperate.
“I promise I’ll never abandon you, Karine,” he said, cupping her chin and dragging the pad of his thumb over her trembling lower lip. “Those are still different things.”
And he knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
Not that she showed it.
Throwing her head back, she moaned louder, bounced harder in his arms, her cunt so tight around him that it already felt like she was milking him dry. With every thrust, she was closer to the edge and so was he.
As wet as a lake between her thighs, even the clenching of her pussy wasn’t enough to stop his cock from stretching her open and stuffing her full. That’s really what she’d wanted when she was against the windows, touching herself and thinking of him.
