A low ache starts at the back of my skull and then spreads all down my spine. However, the pain pales in comparison to the scene in front of me.
I’m in a vast white field, frozen in place, as heavy snow blows over my coat and hair.
When I look down, Mike stares at me with blood tears in his eyes. The view is gruesome in the otherwise white surroundings.
I try to reach out for his little face and wipe away the blood, but I can’t move.
His small hands grab onto my coat as he whispers in a frighteningly haunting tone, “Save me, Sasha.”
I startle awake, breathing heavily as sweat covers my skin.
“Mishka…” I murmur, then frantically study my surroundings. There’s no indication that my baby cousin would magically appear and offer me his gummy smile that makes everything better.
Instead, I find myself in a familiar minimalistic bedroom. I look down and see that I’m in a loose T-shirt instead of the white shirt and jacket.
“You don’t look like yourself, Sasha.”
I slowly sit up against the headboard to be greeted by Kirill in his sharp black suit. The only difference from earlier is that he’s lost the jacket and rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, revealing the striking tattoos swirling down his strong forearms and teasing over his veiny hands.
When I start to talk, a strong ache spreads all over the left side of my face, and I wince.
“Don’t force it. I told you that you look different.” He speaks in his signature casual tone, but I also sense a concealed edge beneath his words that I can’t interpret.
“Did I lose consciousness…after being punched in the face?”
That’s so lame, and here I thought I was getting stronger.
“While you were running on lack of sleep and food.” He grabs a tray from the nightstand and puts it on my lap. “Besides, you didn’t get punched by just anyone. That was Damien.”
“The final member of the organization?”
He nods.
“And you just punched him back?”
“Like he’d just punched you, yes.”
“But I was in the wrong.”
“Just because you stopped him doesn’t mean you were wrong.”
I sit up straighter in bed, hyperaware of the shifting of the mattress beneath me. “Will that cause problems for you?”
“Considering he was laughing like a maniac after I nearly broke his nose, I would say no. But then again, who knows with a crazy bastard like him.”
“Maybe if you apologize—”
“Nonsense,” he cuts me off. “Eat. Anna made this for you.”
“She…did? I thought she hated me?”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“She just doesn’t like me?”
“That dislike is currently on pause since she learned you were unconscious due to defending me.”
Yikes. Now, she and everyone else must be labeling me a weakling who needs to be babied.
“Isn’t this your room?” I ask carefully, once again hyperaware of my surroundings and, especially, the man standing right beside me. It doesn’t help that the sheets smell like him, and I have to dig my fingers into them to stop myself from bringing them to my face and inhaling them.
“Those are some impressive deduction skills,” he says with a note of amusement.
“You could’ve just let the guys take me to the annex house.”
A shadow darkens his light eyes and his tone turns lethal. “If by that, you mean that you’re fine with the guys finding out about your true gender, then we can do that right away.”
“I…didn’t mean that.”
“Then be thankful and shut the fuck up.”
My shoulders snap upright, and heat explodes across my skin. “You don’t have to speak to me in that tone. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I only had a legitimate concern about your image. I didn’t want you to look weird for taking a guard to your room, but maybe I was overthinking.”
“You were. As long as I have the power, no one dares to question me about my choices. So let me worry about my image and eat, Sasha. I won’t ask a third time.”
I narrow my eyes. “And what do you intend to do if I somehow disagree?”
In a swift movement, he puts the plate back on the nightstand and then all but lifts me. In no time, he takes my previous place on the mattress and brings me down on his lap.
I’m speechless for a second too long as I’m crushed by the hard muscles of his thighs and chest. He wraps his arm around my back and rests it on my hip, then grabs the tray.
“I…was joking. I can eat on my own.”
“You might have been joking, but I certainly wasn’t. I told you I won’t ask again.” He takes a spoonful of the soup and jams it against my lips. “Open.”
I don’t mean to, but my mouth trembles. A war erupts in my core as I’m surrounded by his rare warmth and his scent.
Damn how good he smells all day. Every day.
And now that he’s so close, I’m forced to breathe him instead of air.
“Let me down,” I murmur, barely hearing the words myself.
“Open your mouth. I won’t ask a third time.”
I let my lips part, even though I don’t want to. At the same time, I’d rather not find out what he’ll do if I don’t comply.
Kirill is a force of nature not to be reckoned with. I know because I’ve seen him in action, and he low-key terrifies the shit out of me.
Annoyingly, though, I also find myself weirdly fascinated by his abnormal mind.
He slips the spoon inside, but I don’t taste the food. It’s impossible when all my senses are being held hostage by this…enigma of a man.
The act of feeding another person should be normal, or at least, not important enough to cause such unbearable tension. However, due to who Kirill is, it’s anything but.
It also has to do with the position I’m in.
Each of his movements oozes with suffocating control, and I’m hopelessly caught in his web. I stare at my hands in a desperate attempt to disperse the tension that’s wrapping itself around my neck like a noose.
“Um…congratulations,” I say in a small voice.
Kirill slips another spoonful of soup into my mouth. “For?”
“Getting the position as your father’s replacement.”
“You say that as if there was a possibility I wouldn’t.” He raises a brow. “Did you doubt me, Sasha?”
A frisson goes through me like every time he says my name. It’s especially aggravating when he does it in that rare, amused tone.
“I did, but only until I found out you had two plans to get that position.”
“Two plans?”
“The first is playing the hero for saving your mother and subtly highlighting Konstantin as non-filial. The second is buying votes in case the first plan didn’t work.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He strokes the corner of my lips to wipe something off, but his fingers linger there for a second too long, feeling unbearably sensual. “There weren’t only two plans, there were three.”
“What’s the third?”
“Getting rid of Konstantin.”
“You…planned to kill your own brother?”
“Getting rid of him doesn’t necessarily mean killing him. I’m more creative than that.”
I was wrong. Kirill isn’t only dangerous. He’s a literal menace.
I turn slightly in his direction. “Don’t you feel apprehensive about having all these enemies?”
“Nothing great was ever achieved by only having friends.” He strokes my mouth again, but this time, his thumb presses on my bottom lip until it pulses beneath his touch.
My awareness of the weight of his arm around my back and over my hip feels heightened. But most importantly, I can’t ignore the growing bulge against my ass.
The more he strokes and presses on my lip, the bigger his erection becomes. A chill travels down my spine and into the very marrow of my bones.
My face heats, and so does my neck, despite my attempts to keep my reaction under control.
This is the first time he’s touched me this explicitly since that day during the snowstorm when I was injured. Maybe it’s because I thought this would never happen again, but now that it has, my body resurrects to life despite myself.
“Are you blushing, Sasha?”
I try to swallow, but it gets stuck at the base of my throat, so I just shake my head once.
“Your skin looks red.”
“That’s because…I’m hot.”
“That you are.”
My heart beats so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t jump from its confinements and lay itself at his feet. “W-what?”
“What?”
I can’t say it. I want to, but I just can’t.
He just called me hot. I heard it, but I’m not sure if it’s real or if my head is playing tricks on me.
“What are you doing, Kirill?” I ask instead, finally voicing the thoughts that have been running through my head.
He places the tray on the nightstand. That’s when I notice I’m done. Maybe I finished a while ago, but I have no memory of the food.
He spreads his large hand on my hip, eliciting a shock wave through the thin material of his shirt.
His icy eyes devour my face for one second.
Two.
Three.
“I’m trying to decide whether or not to fuck you.”
I choke on my own breaths, and any logical thoughts seem to fly out the window.
“You…what?”
“You don’t have a hearing problem, so quit acting like you do.” His free hand strokes my cheek, then makes a slow path to my mouth. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since we were in that village. I contemplated throwing you down, opening your legs, and taking what I wanted. I fantasized about leaving my marks on this translucent skin, and not letting them fade. I imagined taking you over and over until you screamed and cried while begging for more.”
My body goes slack against his as my temperature reaches its boiling point. My ears burn and tingle, begging for more.
But that’s not the only place that pulsates with each calm word out of his mouth. My core throbs, and I have to clench my legs. The slight shift causes my ass to brush against his massive erection.
I go still, so scared of breathing that I only do it in small increments.
“While it’s so tempting to spread your legs and fuck you, I won’t. Do you know why?”
I shake my head, trying and failing to ignore the overwhelming sense of disappointment that spreads through me.
“I can’t seem to figure you out…yet, and I don’t get entangled with possible enemies.”
“I’m…not your enemy.” I would be long dead if I were.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re hiding something—or possibly some things. I do not for one second believe you followed me all the way from Russia just to pursue a career as a bodyguard.”
“Then why did you let me tag along?”
“I told you. Because I get to have you under my thumb.”
“Keep your enemies closer, huh?”
“Something like that.” He sinks his fingertips into my hip. “We can rectify this situation if you confess.”
“You’re not a priest, why would I confess to you?”
“No, I’m not. I can be your father in Heaven, though.”
“I decline.” I start to push at his hand, but I might as well be moving a mountain.
“Don’t be stubborn. I know you want me, Solnyshko. You watch me when you think I’m not looking, and you even get hot and bothered. I can smell your arousal right now. If I reach between your legs, I’ll feel it, too.”
“Too bad for you, I don’t get entangled with enemies either.” This time when I push at his hand, he releases me.
I only manage to breathe properly when I leap out of the bed and stand at a safe distance from the monster in tailored clothes.
“If you don’t need anything.” I nod and turn around, barely resisting the urge to jog to the door.
“Run all you like, Sasha, but one of these days, you will confess, and I’ll reward you.”
I give up trying to look cool and break into a run.
If I refuse to deal with these feelings plaguing me, surely they’ll disappear, right?
