6-MINE, ALL MINE.

KIRILL’S POINT OF VIEW.

Her green eyes flashed with shock as she jerked against the leather seats. I’d planned on marrying her from the moment the car she reportedly drove crashed into the homeless man who was my brother. I still remember how raw my throat felt from how much I’d screamed when I saw his lifeless body strewn across the floor, police ‘do not cross’ tapes preventing me from touching him.

Summer, and her entire family didn't know it yet, but I’d been watching them ever since that day. So when Sophia tried like a desperate slut to get my attention the other day, I launched in like a bee sting onto her. I didn't care who I married in that family at first; as long as I avenged my bratok [older brother]

“You were going to marry me from the onset?” She said, drawing my mind out of the haze I’d pulled myself into. “What do you mean?”

I flashed her a smirk and said, “You…intrigue me.” It wasn’t a lie. The moment she took her sister’s place at the dinner, I knew I didn’t want Sophia anymore. Revenge be damned for a moment, but I wanted to see more of the absolute wonder of a woman beside me.

“What does that even mean?”

“I saw the rage in your eyes when you looked at your sister, and for some odd reason.” I drawled into a whisper, my hands catching the hem of her lacy wedding dress. “I wanted to see the reason behind it.”

Her lips twitched as she blinked rapidly. “So you used me?”

I smirked faintly. “You used me first, sweetheart.”

She flinched, her hands gripping the hem of her dress so I would let it go. And with a smirk, I pulled away slowly. “You could’ve exposed me right there in front of everyone before the priest even got to our vows.”

“I could have,” I murmured, leaning slightly toward her. “But I didn’t. And do you know why?”

Her head turned, slowly, her breath catching. “Why?”

I smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “Because I want to know why you hate your sister so much.”

She hissed like I burned her, her jaw clenching as the same hatred I’d seen in her eyes the other day flashed in her pupils. I hated that I noticed that….because this was supposed to be revenge. My sister and I planned it so it would be quick and easy….but for some odd reason, I wanted to touch the delicate swell of her breasts, touch the outline of her long neck.

I wanted to bite the soft swell of her cleavage while it was covered in the soft, lacy wedding material. But I held myself and forced restraint down my throat.

“Sophia killed a man and framed me for it.” She said dismissively, not knowing she’d uttered the very words that’d been driving me for the last five years.

“Care to elaborate?” I asked nonchalantly, as if I wasn’t fighting the urge to fire questions at her rapidly.

“Why the hell do you even want to know about this?” She jerked, her eyes flashing with hurt as she hissed at me.

“You’re unpredictable. You lied to an entire church, to your family, to the press… hell, to the entire world, and the high society of London, all while glaring at me through your veil as though you dared me to catch you. Because the thrill excites you.” I shook my head in wonder as I mused over the things she’d done in the past hour.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.” I cut her off, my hand reaching out before I could stop it. My fingers brushed against her chin, and I had to stop myself from hissing at how soft she felt. All of a sudden, the same urge from earlier coursed through me….the very one the doctor swore I could never feel again. Instead of acting on my dirtiest fantasies, I lifted her chin, forcing her to face me. Her pulse fluttered under my thumb, causing me to swallow internally and stifle another urge. For some reason, I wanted to kiss her jaw while burying my fingers into her pussy, relishing every dirty gasp and moan I would pull from her.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“And now that I have you,” I said quietly, trying to hide the strain in my pants as my cock hardened. I wasn’t supposed to feel… five years ago, I’d been diagnosed with one of many mental conditions; and it was the inability to feel anything sexual…but ever since I’d seen her, I’d had a raging boner, “I’m not sure I want to let go.”

It was the truth. Knowing she might not be responsible for Bratok’s death worsened the break in my resolve. If she somehow made me feel again…..I wanted to see just how much she could awaken in me. Perhaps she could be the very cure I’d sought for the past five years.

She froze, eyes widening. “You can’t just—”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,” I said, voice turning sharp partly because I was annoyed at the fact that I couldn’t do anything about the raging hard on I had, and secondly because no one in their right mind defied me.

But she wasn’t in her right mind……she was a crazy woman, and I was starting to like it. The words came out rougher than I intended. “You walked into my world, Mrs Volkov. And in my world, there’s no such thing as coincidence.”

She swallowed hard, gaze flickering to my hand on her chin, then back to my eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

I laughed under my breath. “On the contrary, I know exactly what you are.”

Her brows knit together. “And what am I?”

“Dangerous,” I said simply, a hiss almost escaping me as my cock grazed against my zipper. “Because you make me forget things I shouldn’t, and feel things I couldn’t.”

The car slowed as we reached the courtyard, and I smiled at the thought of bringing a wife home, because even though this act was borne out of a desire for revenge, I wanted to see if I could explore this… raging desire. I didn’t look away from her, nor did I blink. I wanted to see what she’d do under the weight of my silence.

She broke first, a scoff pulling from her lips as she folded her arms under her breasts. My eye caught the jiggle of her large tits, causing me to swallow physically this time around, my cock turning to stone and granite instantly. “So this was your plan all along? Trap me in a marriage?” Her voice brought my eyes back to hers.

“Trap you?” I tilted my head, wondering how the hell I heard that when all I could do was ogle her tits. “You trapped yourself when you said ‘I do’.”

Her breathing hitched as anger crossed her vision. Somehow, that made me even more excited “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” I leaned closer. The space between us shrank until her perfume filled the air; the faint, floral, intoxicating, and capable of rendering me mad. “But you’re married to me now, which makes you mine. At least on paper, and in front of the priest.”

I chucked, my breathing fanning the soft skin atop her breasts. In my mind, I’d had a taste already, my tongue had lapped the shimmery glow, and I’d bitten onto it while relishing the sound of her gasp while she ground on me with her head thrown back.

She stiffened, her gaze flicking to the door handle as if she was considering bolting, but there was nowhere she would run to that I wouldn’t find her. “You don’t own me.”

“Don’t I?” I murmured. My hand slid from her chin to the side of her chest, resting lightly space where the necklace dipped between her tits. The sight of the diamonds between her perfect milky tits drove me up the wall and added to my arousal. Her pulse thrummed beneath my fingers, and she sucked in a sharp breath with each slow caress of my fingers. “Your sister’s name might be on the invitation, but the ring on your finger says otherwise.

You’re mine now.”

I said, and took a risk. I bit onto the spot where her neck met her shoulder, relishing in the shudder that escaped her lips as my teeth grazed her skin. "Oh, and Summer. The man you or your sister ran over?

He was my brother."