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Chosen By A Sinner: Chapter 32


Over the past two weeks, Mariya’s healed quite a lot.

I finally get to take my wife home. Well, to the temporary apartment Marco organized for us.

Luckily, I got her to agree to a couple of things. I’m allowed to bathe, dress, and carry her around. When she needs to use the toilet, I give her privacy until she’s done. So far, it’s working out well.

Honestly, I love it and feel our relationship has become much stronger.

“Where are we going?” Mariya asks when she notices I’m not driving in the direction of our apartment.

“I got a new place, so it’s easier for you to move around. I didn’t want you struggling with stairs,” I explain. “Also, the men from the Priesthood are staying at our place to help catch the fuckers who did this to you.”

Mariya stares at me for a moment, then emotion washes over her face, and she glances out the window.

I reach for her left hand, giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles.


“No buts.”

I stop at a red light, then demand, “Look at me.”

Locking eyes with me, she says, “I’m just emotional because I’m finally out of the hospital.”

Smiling, I turn my attention to the road and steer us to the new apartment building.

It’s a two-bedroom place with an open-plan living room, kitchen, and dining area.

Parking the G-Wagon in the basement, I climb out and retrieve the wheelchair from the back before pushing it to the passenger side. I lift Mariya out of the vehicle and gently place her in the chair.

“I can get used to being wheeled around,” she tries to joke.

I know she hates not being able to move freely.

I press a kiss to the top of her head and walk to the elevator.

When we enter the apartment, Mariya lets out a burst of laughter before cringing with pain. “You just couldn’t bring yourself to add color, could you?”

“You have something against my décor choices?” I ask as I lift her into my arms.

God, I need to feed her so she can pick up all the weight she lost. I can feel her bones.

She wraps her left arm around my neck. “I love your décor choices. All that’s missing is some color. A splash of rose gold here and there.”

“You can take care of that,” I say as I carry her to our bedroom. “I have another surprise for you,”

Mariya glances around the open space. “Thank you for arranging this. I appreciate it.”

I set her down on the bed, careful not to jar her left leg. “You good?”


I walk into the closet and grab two of the dresses I got her. When I show them to her, Mariya says, “They’re pretty.”

“It will make everything easier if you wear dresses for the time being. It’s easy to put on and don’t have to be tugged over your leg.”

“Come here.”

I walk closer and lay the dresses down on the bed.

Mariya takes my hand and tugs me down, so I’m leaning over her. Her eyes lock on mine, wonder shining from them. “Why are you so good to me?”

I crouch down in front of her, and lifting a hand, I tuck some strands behind her ear. “I love taking care of you.”


This time I’m the one looking at her with awe. “It’s empowering having a badass woman dependent on me. You can fight and save yourself from hell, but here, right now, you need me.” I place my hands on either side of her hips and press a kiss to her mouth. “You’re vulnerable, and it makes me feel powerful.”

“I’m not going to be vulnerable forever.”

“I know, but I’m hoping you’ll always need me.” I grin at her. “Like when it comes to cooking.”

She scrunches her nose, “Yeah, I’ll always suck at that.”

I give her another kiss, then murmur, “And making you orgasm.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “You’re the only man who got that right.”

We lock eyes, and an intense moment builds between us before I say, “Thank you for choosing me.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. The day I discovered hormones, they took one look at you and said, yep, he’s the one.”

I tilt my head and ask, “Since when have you loved me?”

She thinks for a moment. “I was fifteen. It was the summer we visited your family in Italy. I woke up and heard someone in the pool, and when I looked out the window, I saw my first set of abs. I was a goner after that.”

I chuckle, loving the memory she’s sharing with me.

She gives me a curious look. “And you?”

“I came over to meet with Viktor when you and your father pulled up on motorbikes. You wore black leather. That was it for me.”

She wraps her arm around her ribs, trying not to laugh. “You really have a hard-on for black.”

“You have no idea,” I growl as I take a fistful of her hair and tug her head back.  I claim her mouth, my cock rock hard behind the zipper of my pants.

Sigh, no sex for weeks.

I break the kiss, then walk into the bathroom to open the faucets in the shower. “Last surprise for today.”

Her eyes are glued to me as I come out of the bathroom with the waterproof cast cover I got for the shower. This way, her leg won’t get wet.

“Damn, I loved having you wash me,” she mutters, not looking too happy.

“I’m still going to wash you,” I say, quickly moving closer to her. “But with the cover, you can sit in the shower. I thought you’d like that.”

Mariya tugs me down for a kiss. “I do. You just spoiled me the past week.”

“I plan on spoiling you a lot more now that you’re home.” I take hold of her shirt. “Arms up.”

A smile spreads over her face as she lifts them. I pull the fabric off, then wrap my arm around her lower back to lift her body against mine so I can shove her sweatpants past her butt. Setting her back on the bed, I carefully pull the fabric over her cast and press a kiss to her right knee. I tug the waterproof cover over the cast and secure it with medical tape.

Picking her up, bridal style, I carry her to the bathroom and set her down on the bench I placed in the middle of the shower with her back to the spray.

While undressing myself, Mariya tilts her head back and smiles as the water wets her hair. “Damn, this feels so good.”

Stepping into the shower, I grab the shampoo bottle and squirt some into my hand. When I massage it into her scalp, Mariya grins up at me.

While I let the conditioner soak into her hair, I focus on the rest of her body. When my hand slips between her legs, I give her a wolfish grin.

“You copping a feel?” she teases me.

“Every chance I get. Why do you think I love bathing you?”

Mariya leans forward, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for making this intimate instead of embarrassing.”

I lock eyes with my wife. “Things will always be intimate between us, amore mio.”



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