Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(32)

“I’m not wearing someone’s house around my neck,” Nina whispers in my ear.

“That one.” I point at the set that consists of a necklace and a bracelet in white gold, lined with white diamonds, and look at the store attendant who is beaming at me—his eyes as huge as saucers.

“And the matching earrings.”

He nods eagerly and takes out another velvet box to place it next to the set.

“Yes.” I nod. “Let’s try them out first.”

“Please tell me those are fake,” Nina groans next to me, and I can’t help but laugh. “They’re not, are they?”

“No, malysh, they are not fake.”

The attendant unclasps the necklace and comes to stand behind Nina, holding it up with the

intention of putting it around her neck.

“Put your hands on my wife,” I tell the idiot, “and you’re losing them.”

The man jumps and takes a step back, almost stumbling over his feet.

“Christ, Roman! What has gotten into you?” Nina stares at me with surprise, then turns toward the sales guy. “He doesn’t mean that.”

“I do. Turn around.” I extend my hand to accept the necklace from the attendant.

After fastening it, I admire how it accentuates her slender neck. The bracelet is several sizes too big; she can probably put both of her wrists through it.

“We need this resized and delivered tomorrow.” I give the bracelet back to the attendant, who nods eagerly, then I turn to Nina. “Do you want to leave the necklace on, or do you prefer they send it with the bracelet and the earrings?”

“I most certainly don’t plan on walking around the mall with this thing on my neck. Can you please take it off?”

While I’m unclasping the necklace, I take the opportunity to run the fingers over the soft skin on her neck and notice her leaning slightly into my touch.

“Let’s go home,” I whisper in her ear. “You can try out those lacy thongs you bought.”

She turns around and looks at me. There is hesitation and concern in her eyes. “What are we doing, Roman? This. You and me. I-I have no idea what to think about all of this.”

“Then don’t think about it. Just . . . let go. Let the current lead us.” I take her chin between my fingers and kiss her.

“Just let go?”

“Just let go, malysh.”

“Okay.”





Chapter 10


A light touch of a finger between my legs wakes me up. A kiss lands at the back of my neck, then another, a little lower. Roman’s big body presses into me from behind, his arm coming around my stomach, plastering me to his hard, muscled chest. His hand slides to my pussy and starts circling my clit with one finger. When he slowly enters my core, I gasp, grab Roman’s forearm, and start riding his finger. But he removes his hand. I turn around so I’m lying on my side, facing him, throw one leg over his hip, and reach for his cock.

“Patience.” He wraps an arm around my ribcage and raises me to sit on his stomach. Placing his hands behind my knees, he urges me up his body until I’m sitting on his breastbone.

“Roman?” I look down at him in surprise.

“You are not comfortable lying on your back. So, we improvise.”

His hands trail up my thighs until he’s gripping my butt cheeks, and he ushers my body forward until his mouth is positioned just a few inches from my core.

“Hands on the headboard,” he says, “and hold tight.”

His mouth crashes into my pussy before I even have time to process his orders. I grab the board, my eyes rolling back into my head as he licks me, destroying me a little more with each swipe of his tongue. My mind is already half muddled, but when he sucks on my clit, it burns out completely.

I’m still shaking from the aftershocks when he lowers me down onto his chest. It takes me a few moments to come back to reality. I look up at him to find him watching me with a smug smile. Devious and dangerous, that’s what he is. And he knows it.

I move lower until I feel his hard cock and rise to position myself over it. “Hands on the

headboard, Roman.”

His eyebrows raise, but he takes ahold of two of the wooden slats above his head. I smile, slowly start lowering myself onto his shaft, only to stop midway and lean down to kiss his inked chest. Then I lick it. Roman inhales deeply but doesn’t move, keeping his hands on the board. I wish I could tease him longer, but my core literally aches to have all of him inside, so I slide down slowly and close my eyes. Bliss.

“Do. Not. Move.” I whisper and start rotating my hips.

While I ride him, Roman’s hands grip the slats tighter, the muscles in his forearms straining. He wants to move, to thrust upward inside me. I see his desire and control in the intensity of his stare.

There is something in his gaze, the way he’s so focused on staying still because I asked him to, that does me in. Roman Petrov is not a man who yields to anyone, but here he is, giving me the reins. A moan escapes my mouth as I come. Roman eventually loses his composure, and grabbing me around the waist, he starts pounding into me until I shatter.

As we lay with our limbs tangled, I trace my finger along the black lines on his inked chest. The designs are mostly tribal, similar to those in the full sleeve on his arm. What I failed to notice previously are the multiple scars scattered across his chest. I place my hand on one of the three on his