Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

MARAT
I hated this. I hated pompous galas of any kind. Awards dinners filled with dishonorable dickheads pretending to be better than they were, patting themselves on the back for accomplishments not of their own making.
It was ludicrous. It was grotesque. But it was business.
Sometimes I wondered if we had remained on the path Adrik first took, pursuing criminal endeavors instead of legitimate ones, if things would have been any different. Really, the more I became involved with the company, the more I saw how difficult Adrik’s struggle to keep us legit really was.
The line between the business world and the underworld was truly fine. So damn thin it was impossible to see in certain places.
Volkov Industries had several divisions. I was currently working on a plan to decrease our carbon footprint overseas, to make our mines green, safer for the environment and for our employees. It was a huge undertaking, but one Adrik approved of.
I’d already discussed the possibility of moving Andres from assistant to manager on my green team. That was the nickname I chose for the group I’d handpicked for this project.
Spending the last few days in Vegas had put a hold on things, and I was eager to return to work.
“Marat, old boy, how are you?” some stuffy, white-haired businessman I’d forgotten the name of stopped on his way to the restroom and I merely nodded, uninterested in conversation.
I pulled on my collar, stopping myself when I realized what I was doing. The tux I wore was custom tailored and fit me like a glove. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the least, but I was on edge.
I waited outside the main ballroom for Destiny to rejoin me after she’d excused herself to the ladies’ room. Not wanting her to be uncomfortable, I escorted her.
This whole event was alien for someone with her lifestyle, and I was not judging or bragging. Before she was my wife, she was a waitress. That was simply a fact.
Although, when I thought about it, our worlds were probably not that different. She worked in Sin City, and this town was full of morally compromised people.
The type of people who attended events like this were often the worst of the elite, congratulating themselves for whatever fake fucking accomplishments some publicist or other set up for them. I didn’t want anyone of those fucks looking at her. Not without me there to provide a buffer.
At least I knew Volkov Industries had done the things we’d been given a humanitarian award for at this thing. After the ceremony, I’d handed the small statue off to Josef, who in turn gave it to one of his men.
My speech was hardly memorable. All I could see was Destiny’s big blue eyes following me, and for once in my life, I wanted to make someone proud. I mean, yeah, I shared in the successes of the company I co-owned and chaired with my brother.
But these were Andres’, our assistant’s incentives, and accomplishments. Another reason I was behind his latest raise. I’d gone through accepting the award mechanically. All the while, I played back in my head the rest of the ground rules my wife had surprised me with.
“I want you to promise to meet me in the middle, Marat.”
“What do you mean?”
“No half-assing this marriage. You did this. I should be mad. I should demand you get it annulled, but I’m not that smart, I guess.”
She’d been joking. But it still made me mad.
“You’re smart. Don’t say that about yourself. And I told you, I am not half-assing anything. I want this.”
“Fine, if I’m not dumb, then I must be crazy. Cause I want to stay married too. But it’s going to be a group effort. I won’t be bought, so no more outrageous presents.”
“What are you talking about? You needed a ring.”
“And you’re not wearing one, I noticed.”
“You’re going to make me work for this aren't you?”
I had to admit I’d been pleasantly surprised to hear her say she wanted me to wear a ring. It was a symbol of ownership I’d never given anyone over me. And like everything else about my Dumplin’ it was tempting.
“You're damn straight I am. I know what I’m worth.”
And because I did too, I made her come again, that time on my dick. She was so fucking sweet, I could not get enough of her. It was a new level of obsession for me. I had never felt that. Not for anyone.
I wanted to stay alone with her locked in our penthouse suite away from everyone else. But that fucking award was why I was there in the first place. I had no choice but to show up and accept the thing.
I thought about the way she mentioned a ring and looked at my bare hand. She was right. I needed a ring on my finger.
Maybe we could go right now? The jeweler would open for me.
We’d been at the gala long enough. But what was Destiny doing in the ladies’ room? How long did women take to pee, anyway?
Patience was not one of my virtues. While I pondered the timeless question of what females did in restrooms that took so long, someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I spun around, frowning at the grinning face of Tessa McNeil. The thin, blonde socialite was a few inches shorter than me and way too close for comfort.
“Marat, there you are,” she purred, placing one hand on my chest over the jacket of my tuxedo.
I stepped back, causing her hand to fall. The confidant smile that had been on her face a second ago faltered, and something caught her attention. I turned my head, my eyesight landing on Destiny as she approached slowly.
I was unsure what to expect. A scene? Would she freak out because another woman’s hands were on me? I didn’t like the idea of causing her discomfort or hurt in any way.
Without too much thought, I reached for my wife. I needed to touch her. So, I pulled Destiny to my side, and wrapped my arm around her waist, securing her to me before she had the chance to react.
For some reason, with her in my arms, I felt grounded and present. I didn’t want to be there, in that room, at that gala, or even in Vegas. I didn’t want to make small talk with Tessa.
I just wanted her.
My wife. My sweet temptation. My Dumplin’.
“Marat, who is this? A friend of yours?” Tessa asked, and her voice held an edge I did not like.
“Hello there. Sorry for this one. We’re technically honeymooning. I’m Destiny,” my wife answered for me, pressing against my side, and extending a hand to Tessa.
“Tessa McNeil. I’m sorry, did you say honeymooning?” she asked, mouth gaping and closing like a fish out of water.
“That’s right,” I said, speaking up. “Destiny is my wife.”
I watched Tessa absorb that fact, the woman seemed shocked. But honestly, I could not care less.
Volkov Industries might have catapulted my brother and me into superstar status, but I did not like those people. No more than Adrik ever had.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked her, taking in the midnight blue evening gown she wore.
“Is it over?”
“Mm,” I hummed a noncommittal reply.
She said something else, but I didn’t hear her. My attention was elsewhere. It was on the pounding of my heart. The roaring in my ears. How could she talk when I felt like the entire world was shifting just from looking at her?
Fuck.
She was a vision. All in blue, like an angel. Blue matched her eyes. It contrasted the warmth of her skin but complimented her dark hair and the purity of her smile.
The color was a common theme in the clothes I’d chosen for her. She brought me calm and tranquility. Like a piece of heaven. I dressed her in blue for that reason.
The gown alone might have been considered plain, but not with her curves filling it out. Destiny looked delicious.
The deep V showed off her ample cleavage, and the long slit up the side revealed flashes of creamy white skin when she walked.
Her hair was styled in long, dark ringlets that hung past her shoulder, and all night I pictured wrapping it around my fist as I shoved my cock past her plump, pink lips.
I’d married a gorgeous woman. Just looking at her turned my cock to steel. My breath caught in my lungs and pleasure surged inside me as she turned her wide smile towards me.
I wondered if it was possible to come without ever being touched.
Her beauty went so much deeper than her pretty skin. Every second I passed in her company, every drop of information I learned about her left me craving more.
“Are you ready to leave?” I repeated, needing to get her out of there.
“Sure. If you want to go, I’m ready.”
“Yes. I want to go.”
Destiny didn’t ask questions or pout and beg me to introduce her to movie stars, or musicians, or any of the other rich men there.
We’d been assigned to a table with more than one headliner, but she’d kept her eyes in her head. Even better than that, she’d kept them on me.
I’d never wanted someone as wholly, as completely, as I wanted her. And I wanted her now. I wanted her out of there. I wanted her home. With me.
“Come on.”
Impatience spurred me on. I needed to get her alone. Thoughts of my wife consumed me. I wanted to punch every single person at that gala for looking at her with even the mildest curiosity or interest.
She wasn’t for them. She was for me. Mine.
My. Wife.