Nicholai lifted her into his arms, planting a passionate kiss on her lips that made her toes curl. He then sprang into action, orchestrating their wedding plans with a surprising level of secrecy. He had it all planned out—they were to be married that very afternoon.
In a flurry of excitement, Mira and Nicholai exchanged vows in a charming Vegas chapel. She was adorned in a flowing, floor-length, white chiffon dress, while Nicholai looked dashing in a crisp white shirt and slacks.
As they were declared husband and wife, Mira noticed a possessive glint in Nicholai’s eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. She found herself hoping that she was making the right decision.
“Where’s Paul?” Mira asked, curious about the absence of Nicholai’s bodyguard and driver, as they dined in their penthouse that evening, clad only in their robes.
After the ceremony, Nicholai had whisked her away to the penthouse, where they spent the next few hours wrapped in each other’s arms. Paul was usually a constant presence, shadowing Nicholai wherever he went. But in Vegas, he was conspicuously absent, which struck Mira as odd.
Nicholai simply shrugged, continuing to cut into his salmon. “Paul is handling some matters for me back home,” he explained. “I trust him to take care of things I can’t personally oversee.”
Mira nodded, understanding his explanation, and took a sip of her wine.
“So, listen,” she began, setting down her glass and folding her hands in her lap. “I know this is all happening so quickly.”
“It’s done, Mira,” Nicholai responded, his voice firm as he focused on her serious expression. “You can’t change your mind.”
Mira couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not changing my mind,” she reassured him. “I was just hoping we could keep things quiet for a while, at least until I can tell Jahan in person.”
She hadn’t told anyone about her impromptu marriage to Nicholai, except for Kaley, who had squealed with excitement over the phone. Kaley had promised to keep their secret, a promise Mira was grateful for, knowing how difficult it must be for her best friend to keep such news to herself.
“Of course,” Nicholai agreed, much to Mira’s relief. She had expected more resistance. “I’d actually prefer if we keep it to ourselves for a while. The paparazzi would have a field day with this news.”
Mira beamed at him.
She removed her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table next to her plate. Pushing her chair back, she decided it was the perfect time to give him his wedding gift—a gift she had acquired even before they had decided to get married.
“Where are you going?” Nicholai asked, pausing his meal.
“I have a surprise for you,” Mira called over her shoulder.
She returned a few minutes later, a folder in her hand, which she handed to him before resuming her seat.
“What’s this?” Nicholai asked, eyeing the folder with skepticism.
“A wedding present.”
He noticed the pride in her eyes and opened the folder, scanning its contents.
“These are properties in Europe,” he stated, confusion etched on his face.
“I thought they would be perfect to replace the ones I lost you,” she explained. “For the orphanages.”
Nicholai was silent for a moment, and Mira held her breath, wondering if she had made the right choice.
He closed the folder and looked at her, his eyes softening. “Thank you.”
He walked over to her, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. “This is the best wedding present I could have hoped for,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.
Mira stood on her tiptoes, closing the small distance between them, and kissed him.
Nicholai groaned against her lips, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her petite frame against his larger, harder one. His tongue invaded her mouth, and Mira responded eagerly. He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her robe parting down the middle, allowing her damp center to press against his stomach. He didn’t make it to the bedroom. Instead, he laid her down on the sofa, her body sprawled along its length.
Mira undid the belt of her robe and shrugged it off, tossing it aside. It had been barely an hour since he’d been inside her, yet she was already wet and craving him again.
“I’ll never get enough of looking at you, Mira,” he growled, shedding his own robe.
Mira ran her hand down his muscular chest, her fingers tracing a scar that marred his smooth, tanned skin—a scar she hadn’t noticed before.
“What happened?” she asked, her fingers lightly touching the edges of the scar.
“It happened a long time ago at an orphanage.”
Nicholai grabbed her wrist and guided it to his erect member that was jutting out between them. It was clear he didn’t want to discuss it further.
Distracted, Mira wrapped her fingers around his hardness and began to stroke him.
Nicholai sat next to her and pulled her up so that she was leaning over his lap. Taking the hint, Mira lowered her head and took him into her mouth, tasting the salty pre-cum that slid down his length. Nicholai let out a breath, and she watched as his stomach muscles tightened, his abs becoming more pronounced.
“Your mouth is so hot. So tight.”
Mira continued her ministrations, feeling him grow even harder in her mouth. Nicholai’s hand trailed down her back and across her waist, finally settling in the damp curls between her legs.
“Think you can make me come first?” he teased, his fingers sliding teasingly across her clit, causing her to moan around him.
“Game on,” Mira responded, always up for a challenge. Besides, he was using his fingers. If it was his mouth, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
She quickened her pace, knowing that was how he liked it. Encouraged by her actions, Nicholai increased his efforts. He circled her sensitive nub with two fingers, and Mira whimpered at the intense pleasure that coursed through her body.
He bent his head and traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, his fingers pressing harder. Mira’s body stiffened, and then she began to shake uncontrollably as she climaxed, her juices coating his fingers. He continued to stroke her until her body relaxed and her clit softened. Yet, he didn’t climax.
“Ride me, pretty girl.”
He repositioned her on top of him. Mira took him in her hand and guided him to her slick entrance. She pushed down, taking him deep inside her. Nicholai pulled her to him, his mouth on hers, as his hips thrust up into hers, hard and deep.
Their bodies were slick with sweat, sliding against each other, creating a delicious friction. Her nipples brushed against his chest with each thrust, and knowing how sensitive they were, Nicholai would occasionally pinch them, keeping them hard and sensitive.
“Come for me, Mira. Now.”
And she did, shattering in his arms as her orgasm ripped through her. Nicholai gritted his teeth as her slick, inner muscles tightened around him, but he still didn’t climax.
“Your turn, baby,” Nicholai told her. “Make me come.”
He’d just turned her into a puddle of pleasure, and now he wanted her to make him climax?
“Nicholai… I can’t,” she protested weakly. She could barely move.
He gripped her hips and guided her movements, helping her ride him.
Wanting to please him, Mira found her rhythm and felt another orgasm building within her.
“Faster,” Nicholai instructed.
Mira bit her lip as she quickened her pace, trying to suppress her impending climax. She reached behind her and squeezed his balls, watching as his eyes glazed over and he let out a roar, slamming into her as he climaxed.
Mira felt his release deep inside her and couldn’t hold back any longer. She ground her hips against his as she climaxed again, before collapsing against his chest.
