I have no doubt Uncle Alexei will probably lose his shit, and he might pull a gun on me, but Mariya's worth facing death for.
That's if Mariya doesn't try to kill me herself when she
wakes up tomorrow with my ring on her finger.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss until I'm devouring her.
None of that matters because she's mine.
All. Fucking. Mine.
The realization hits again, washing over me like a tidal
wave.
Mariya's married to me.
Tomorrow all hell might break loose, but I'll face whatever comes my way because there's no way I'm letting her go.
It doesn't fully settle in that we got married until we're back at the hotel, and I lower my sleeping bride onto the kingsize bed. She passed out during the ride back to the hotel.
Sitting down next to her, I brush the silky black strands away from her face. "You're probably going to want to kill me tomorrow." I lean forward until my face hovers over hers. "But what I want, I get, and there's no other woman I'd choose to be my wife."
Mariya groans and turns onto her side to snuggle into a pillow. I drink in the sight of her parted lips, her creamy skin, her
soft hair. She's absolutely vulnerable right now, and it makes a surge of power fill my chest.