Under Control: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance
Under Control: Chapter 29

I’m a nervous wreck. When Valentin leaves for the kidnapping mission down in Baltimore, I pace around the house for nearly two hours before I decide there’s no way I can sit around and wait for him to come back. It’s a long drive to Baltimore and a long drive back, and I won’t hear a word until everything is over.

A dozen scenarios play through my head, and all of them end with my husband murdered and dead in an alley far away.

Strange, how suddenly he’s my husband in my head.

Instead of torturing myself for another few hours, I call Merrick. “I need something to do,” I tell him. “And I feel like you owe me.”

“Darling, it’s early, but if you’re so bored you can come let me paint you again.”

“You sure my husband will be okay with that?”

“I’ll gift him whatever I make as a little present. How’s that sound?”

“I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Which is how I end up naked in Merrick’s art studio as the sun rises outside his big windows. I drink coffee and pose myself however he instructs me, and he busily makes marks on his canvas and chats with me about aimless, normal things.

It’s nice, actually. Living with Valentin made me forget that there’s a big world outside the Bratva and most normal people only worry about things like when the farmer’s market is opening and where their next cup of tea is coming from.

And even the ones who were like me, who had to obsess over every penny and spent most of their time stressed beyond healthy levels, even they have it easy compared to me right now.

I’d rather go back to drowning in debt.

“Darling, your shoulders are hunching again,” Merrick says, squinting at me over the canvas. “What’s the matter with you this morning?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re practically a ball of stress.” He chews on the end of his brush. “I suppose it’s making for a good composition, but still. What’s your deal?”

I take a long drink of coffee and blow out a breath. The silk robe I’m wearing—an entirely different silk robe from the other two I’ve worn while visiting here, which makes me think Merrick’s got a weird fetish going on—falls down one shoulder.

“Valentin’s doing something dangerous and I’m worried. That’s about as much as I can tell you.”

He nods slightly, frowning as he works. “And that’s important to you.”

“Obviously. He’s my husband.”

“Is he now?” He seems distracted as he talks. “I thought the two of you weren’t all that serious.” He clears his throat and glances at me. “Well, I thought you weren’t as serious about him.”

I let that sink in. He’s not wrong. Up until recently, I would’ve agreed with him. Obviously, this relationship with Valentin is volatile and exciting, but it’s not real.

I couldn’t see myself with him for the rest of my life.

But that’s changing. I’ve been thinking in terms of five years, ten years, twenty. I’ve been thinking children, schools, vacations. Waking up every morning to Valentin’s stormy glares and moodiness.

“I think I changed my mind.”

He pokes his head around the canvas. “You changed your mind?”

“I changed my mind.” I raise my chin in defiance. “I’m allowed to change my mind.”

“Of course you are, darling, but this isn’t—” He waves his hand, searching for something. “This isn’t whether you like pumpkin pie. This is your vicious, scary as hell husband. You’re falling in love.”

I open my mouth to deny it because of course I’m not falling in love, don’t be absurd⁠—

But yeah, he’s dead on.

I’m absolutely falling head over heels in love with my husband.

I say nothing, but the smirk he gives me suggests he can see what I’m thinking written all over my face.

“Good for you,” he murmurs and gets back to work.

I try to steer the conversation away from Valentin after that. Merrick tells me about how his work’s been going (“boring, awful, tedious, these fucking blood-sucking art dealers are all total vampires”), he mentions his love life (“sweaty and vigorous”), and he goes on at length about a new divan he wants to purchase. I let the mindless chatter wash over me, and soon the hours slip past, and I don’t even realize I should be worried until there are footsteps coming up to the studio.

“Who in the fucking hell is—” Merrick’s on his feet, wielding his paintbrush like a knife, and I quickly pull the robe around me and tighten the sash, expecting one of Merrick’s boyfriends to appear.

Instead, Valentin steps into the room. He glances at Merrick before leveling an intense and possessive stare my way, licking his lips as his gaze drifts down the robe.

“Leave us,” Valentin orders.

“Uh, right.” Merrick clears his throat. “I’ll just, uh, go down the block and get some coffee.”

“Good.”

Merrick hurries out of his own studio and leaves his own house, purely because of the weight of Valentin’s command.

Once we’re alone, I stand in the middle of the room. He comes toward me, the floorboards creaking under his heavy steps.

“You’re safe,” I say, relief washing over me.

“Were you worried?”

“It was terrible.”

He doesn’t smile. He only stares death and the promise of sin. “You shouldn’t ever worry about me. I’ll come back for you.”

“Sounds like a pretty creepy promise.”

He covers the distance between us and laces a fist in my hair. He pulls, roughly. “Sometimes, I wonder,” he whispers as I gasp in pain. “You don’t seem to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That you are entirely mine and I am entirely yours.” He buries my mouth in a bruising kiss before ripping off the silk robe. I whimper, totally naked before him, as he shoves me roughly back against the wall beside the window. His mouth finds my nipple and he licks, sucking hard, and I moan as his other hand wrenches open my legs.

I pretend to struggle, mostly just to feel his power. I’m not disappointed—he keeps me pinned like I’m nothing. One hand teases my pussy as he licks and sucks my nipples, getting them wet and hard, and his other hand holds me in place.

“At least tell me,” I say, moaning as his fingers slide up inside of me. “Tell me everything went to plan.”

He bites my nipple. I yelp, but he’s already soothing me with kisses. “It went perfectly,” he says.

Then he releases my pussy and unbuckles his belt. His pants come off, followed by his shirt, and I’m kissing his tattooed chest as I take his thick cock in both hands.

He pushes me to my knees, fist in my hair.

“Tell me you like this,” he says as he holds his shaft with one hand, teasing my lips. Marking me with his tip.

“I like it,” I say, and my core clenches as emotion swells inside of me. “I love it.”

His mouth opens. “Say that again.”

“I love it,” I whisper.

He slides his cock between my lips and moans as I hollow my cheeks and suck him. “I love it too,” he moans.

My hands stay above my head. I’m leaning back against the wall, and his dick is buried in my mouth. He slowly fucks my lips, and I’m controlled, dominated, completely at his mercy, and I’ve never felt better in my entire life.

I love it. I love it. God, I fucking love it, as I suck his cock and listen to his moans. He must’ve rushed over here the moment he got home and couldn’t help himself. He needed me down on my knees, needed his dick in my mouth, because he can’t control himself when I’m around.

He pulls back with a moan. My spit glistens on his shaft as he drags me back up and spins me around, pinning me in place. His cock slides between my legs and fills my pussy with ease. I’m so wet, and his dick’s still dripping with my spit, and he grinds into me with a delicious purr of bliss.

“I love this pussy,” he whispers as he fucks me slow and deep, his mouth nibbling at my neck, his hands on my breasts. I keep my palms against the wall, pushing back into him. “I love your moans, your skin, the way your body reacts to me. I love every bit of you, Karine.”

“I love it too,” I moan, and I know I’m avoiding saying what I really want to say. “I love when you fuck me.” I love you.

He fills me with a snarl, ripping into my pussy. It’s rough and violent, and I’m dancing on the edge of bliss the whole time. His fist wraps around my throat, and the beast takes me from behind. “I love your messy pussy. I love filling you to the brim with my cum. I love it when you’re on your knees sucking my cock like a good fucking slut, and I love it when you’re a filthy little girl for me. I love you, Karine.”

Oh, fuck.

There it is.

I push into him, and I come so hard I feel like I might explode. But he doesn’t relent: Valentin thrusts into me like a beast, ripping me to pieces, and he comes moments after. It’s messy and glorious, and when he’s finished with me, I feel like I’m a puddle of smashed, satisfied clay.

He holds me in his arms and gently helps me get dressed. Then he pulls on his own clothes and straightens himself up.

His eyes pin me and he gives me a vicious little smile, and a bad feeling rolls down my spine, like something terrible is about to happen.

“Would you like to meet your cousin?” he asks.