Possessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 3) - Page 42

I grip Nikita's hand as we step into the courthouse. I'm terrified, to say the least. My hands are shaking, and I'm trying not to faint from the lacy white dress that had been in Madisyn's closet.

While it isn't a wedding dress, it is certainly passable.

The judge and Nikita speak freely, both familiar with one another, as we enter the courtroom.

"Nikita!" the judge says. "Are you sure you're not in the wrong courtroom?"

His joke burns me, and I tighten my grip on Nikita's hand. I'm not doing this out of love or obligation. It's strictly out of a desire to protect my family.

But is that the only desire I feel for Nikita? He's been kind and generous and has gone out of his way to ensure that my son is safe. He chased me to Chicago to protect me. I can't imagine anyone else ever doing that, caring that much about me.

Maybe in some strange way, that's love.

I've never been in love, not the romantic type. I've had my share of boyfriends and lousy romances, but I've never been head over heels for a man. I don't think I work that way. That's not how I fall in love.

Besides, isn't that lust? Maybe it's better that I don't feel the constant need to fuck the man I'm about to marry. It'll keep us sane, communicating, and maybe even save this silly marriage from becoming something it shouldn't.

But who am I to say what it should and shouldn't become?

Nikita wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me closer. Is it all for show? Or does he want any of this, to marry me and spend the rest of his life with me?

"Your Honor, it would be a privilege to wed my fiancée, Lucy Quinn."

"And you want to marry this man, Nikita Krylova?" the judge asks, his attention on me.

Does he think that I may be under duress? He stares, waiting for my answer.

"I do, Your Honor," I say with more conviction than I feel truthful.

Pleased by my response, the judge waives the twenty-four-hour waiting period and has us exchange vows. We're married in the courthouse. It's not utterly romantic, but neither is our relationship. And that works for me.

Luka waits outside the courthouse, offering to drive us back to the compound. "Congrats," he says, but there's a glimpse of something else behind his gaze.



Nikita grins, and he either doesn't notice or isn't letting it bother him. He smacks Luka on the back with his right hand while holding my left hand, keeping me close to him. "You'd better propose. Hannah isn't going to wait around forever."

Luka growls, and his top lip twitches. "I've been trying to, and you two seem to steal my thunder."

I bite down on my bottom lip, doing my best not to be amused by his outburst. The man could take down any number of assailants. He's tall, robust, and good-looking, no doubt. But the fact that we're married before he is, seems to have his boxers twisted.

"We could help you with your proposal," I suggest. While I don't know much about Hannah, it's clear that she is madly in love with Luka, and any proposal would probably make her happy.

"Like you helped me the last time?" Luka snaps at me.

"Watch your tone," Nikita scolds. "All she's offering is to help. If you're not man enough to get down on one knee—"

I don't want them fighting over something so ridiculous. "Hey!" I interrupt Nikita. "It wasn't like you got down on one knee and proposed to me."

"That's different," Nikita says, and his eyes narrow. "Whose side are you on?"

"I know better than to cross my husband," I say with a wicked grin—I like the fact that I can refer to Nikita as my husband.

Why is that?

The warm, fuzzy feelings growing in the pit of my stomach shouldn't be there. This marriage is for protection. Right?

Nikita plants his lips on mine. Unlike while we were in the courthouse and the judge told us that we may kiss, that lip lock had been sweet and chaste. There hadn't been the heated passion behind the kiss like there is now.

My insides grow toasty as his hand is firmly planted on my lower back, dipping me slightly as he pushes his tongue inside of my mouth.

Nikita is firm, forceful, but not in a necessarily bad way. I've never had a man take control like Nikita does with me. It stirs up something I don't quite recognize inside me.


He has a way of adding fuel to the simmering heat, and just as my legs grow weak and I desire to kiss him, pull him tighter, and admit I might enjoy this with him, Nikita pulls away.

"We should get on the road," he says.

I'm breathless. Swept up in the moment, the world is dizzying, and that's the only thing that Nikita has to say about kissing me?

Was I the only one who felt anything?

His hand is at my lower back as he escorts me to the black SUV and opens the door, helping me climb inside. I wait for him to shut the door, but instead, he glances at me with a wicked smile. "Scoot over."

Luka climbs into the driver's seat and starts the engine. His attention and focus is on the road while Nikita seems enthralled in devouring me.

Not that I mind. On the contrary, I'm rather enjoying his blazing focus on me.

Nikita's hand is rough and warm as he strokes my jaw, tilting my head, his lips close but not kissing me yet. It's like he's examining every inch of me, what I have to offer him.

"I will ravish you tonight," Nikita says. "But not until you've given yourself over to me completely."

Tags: Willow Fox Bratva Brothers Crime
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