Page 232 of Vicious Intentions
Her eyes immediately hood at the threat, adding pressure to the hand still pressed against my bulge.
“You did say we still have ten minutes. There’s a lot we can do in ten minutes,” she pants, tilting her neck to the side so I can kiss her there.
“Ten minutes isn’t long enough for all the things I want to do to you,” I growl, suddenly feeling like I might combust if I have to wait much longer to be inside her.
This.
This will never get old. I’ll never get enough of my wife, no matter how many anniversaries we celebrate, how many years we spend together, or how many lives we share. I will always be this obsessed with my Anna.My vita mia.
It’s only when we hear the sound of a small plane approaching that we finally pull apart, though not before I grab hold of her chin to keep her from stepping too far away.
“Youwillfinish what you started, wife.”
“Oh, I intend to, husband.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her back against my chest, my hard cock pressing against her ass.
Even beneath hoodies, flannels, fleece jackets, leggings, and cargo pants, I can still feel the heat of Anna’s body scorching mine.
Yes, my wife will finish what she started.
She can’t tease me like this and expect me not to make her pay for it later.
And I’ll make sure she’ll love every minute of her punishment.
“Where is she? She’s not here?” Anna asks, concern creeping into her voice when no one exits the small plane, the pilot remaining inside the cockpit.
My brows knit in confusion, and just as I open my mouth to tell my wife not to worry, the headlights of an approaching car catch our attention.
The tinted-window vehicle rolls to a stop in front of us, Stella jumping out the second it does. I loosen my hold on my wife as she charges toward her sister, both women falling into each other’s arms, both crying with happiness now that they’re finally reunited.
I stand rooted to the spot, watching the driver’s side door open and Kirill Petrov step out of the car. Instead of walking toward our wives, he heads straight for me, silently giving the girls a moment alone together.
There’s a pang in my chest. I recognize it immediately.
Disappointment.
I’m not sure why some foolish part of me expected Niccolò, or Raffaele, or maybe even my sweet mother to step out of that car too, but I can’t deny the disappointment that settles inside me when only Stella and Kirill came all this way to see us.
“Glad to see you two are still in one piece,” Kirill says with a small smile, extending his hand for me to shake.
I hold mine out on autopilot and shake his hand. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my saving grace would come in the form of an Outfit enforcer and her Bratva husband.
But here we are.
“An easy thing to accomplish when the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
Kirill’s smile slips from his face at my remark, and I kick myself for sounding so bitter.
In reality, I’m anything but. I’m beyond grateful. I guess not seeing my own family here tonight has put me in a foul disposition.
“That can’t have been easy on either of you. I know it’s not much, but you two aren’t the only ones hurting. Both your families miss you and suffer with your absence.”
“You’re right. It isn’t much.” In fact, it only tightens the ache in my chest.
“Speaking of which,” he says before pulling down the zipper of his parka and handing me a phone. “It’s a burner. Completely untraceable. Just keep the call under a couple of minutes and you should be golden.”
I stare at the phone like it’s a bomb ready to explode in my hand.
