Keira might be emotionally spinning, but the look on Dmitri’s face grounded her just as effectively as his touch. He wanted her. He wanted her right there, in that chair, in the middle of the fucking restaurant. He wouldn’t put her in that position, but the desire in his gray eyes had an answering tide rising in her. She recrossed her legs, letting her skirt slide up a bit. An invitation.
He saw it just like she’d hoped he would. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Keira.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll put me over your knee and spank me for it?”
His lips curved. “I think you may like that too much to be an effective punishment.”
Her Russian was flirting with her. Of all the sides of Dmitri, this sly, flirtatious one might have been her favorite. He seemed to save it only for her, and if it was just another part he played, she didn’t want to know it. It might be a comforting lie to think he was giving her a piece of himself exclusively, but it was comforting nonetheless. “Careful there, Dima. Punishment can go both ways.” She loved the way his eyes flared every time she used his pet name. Another intimacy between them. Another bridge connecting them in a way she never would have guessed was possible.
“Knowing you are sitting inches from me with nothing barring me from doing this…” He dropped his hand to her thigh and slid it beneath her skirt, the move so smooth, it would have made her laugh if he didn’t choose that moment to cup her pussy. “This is punishment.”
“Let’s get out of here.” She wanted more than his hand between her thighs, and she didn’t want to wait. The only time Keira’s mind truly stilled was when she was with Dmitri, screaming his name as she came. She might be trading one addiction for another, but there were worse choices to make.
“Not before dinner is served.” He traced the band of her garter where it clasped the tops of her thigh highs. “How long can you last before you’re begging me to let you come?”
He was evil in a way that had nothing to do with being the head of the Romanov empire and everything to do with that wandering hand beneath her skirt. Keira dragged her fingers over his forearm, pulling him closer. “Do your worst.”
“Somehow, I knew you’d say exactly that.” He snagged his iced tea and took a long drink, as if he wasn’t tracing a circle around her clit with his other hand while he was doing it. “You are a true delight.”
She leaned against him, fighting not to lift her hips to make what he was doing easier for him, enjoying the closeness they shared. It could have just been the two of them in this restaurant for all she noticed the rest of the room. Dangerous. But then, what wasn’t dangerous about her life? Keira turned her head and kissed him behind his ear. “What happens after this reception is done? After you’ve hunted down the Eldridges? What happens with us?”
From his tension, she could tell he was considering playing dumb. Dmitri apparently knew better than that, though, because he shifted to cup her inner thigh and sighed. “I hadn’t put too much thought into it.”
“Liar.” She’d believe that of everyone else. Not him. If anything, he had several options laid out, depending on how Keira reacted at any given time. “How many outcomes did you plan for when it came to me as your wife?”
His lips quirked. “Three.”
She shifted closer and squeezed his thigh. The muscle clenched beneath his slacks, but he didn’t show any other reaction as she slid her hand higher. “In one of them, I’m the pretty doll who is happy to be locked in your room and taken out to play with or display as you see fit.”
“Da, though I think it’s safe to say that option was tabled shortly after you arrived.”
At least he was willing to admit it. She gripped his cock through the fabric and gave him a slow stroke. “What are the other two?” He had to know that option wasn’t an option at all, but it was so very like Dmitri to keep it as a last resort despite that. She kept stroking his cock, dishing out the same medicine he had.
His hand never left her thigh, though his fingers gripped her a little tighter. “In one, you’re either informant for your brother or sent to sow discontent and chaos in my household.”
It was a fair thing to plan for—he couldn’t have known her motivation when she met him on the street and agreed to marry him. Dmitri would guess that it was because he manipulated her into a corner, but he wouldn’t be able to know for sure that Aiden hadn’t outmaneuvered him. She respected that, even though part of her mourned yet another piece of evidence of the barriers between them. Sometimes, like last night and earlier today, they seemed small enough to knock over with a single touch. Other times, they might as well have been impenetrable. “Do you think that now?”
“I highly doubt it, though I’d be a fool to underestimate you. You’ve proven yourself more than capable of being a spy.” His hips shifted and his breathing hitched. The slightest of reactions in response to what she was doing to him, but from Dmitri, he might as well have yelled to the heavens. “That said, if you’re here with my destruction in mind, it’s because you decided on it—not because your brother sent you.” He leaned back against his chair, the tablecloth hiding what she was doing from anyone curious enough to look. The move gave her better access, and she had a truly insane moment where she considered unzipping him and freeing his cock.
The waiter approached, and she made as if to take her hand back, but Dmitri covered it with his free one in a silent command to stay. They were silent as their food was laid out before them, and he only spoke after the man had retreated. “It will take an act of God to ensure we make it home before I’m inside you.”
That wicked, hopeful feeling in her chest blossomed until she was half-sure she shone with it. “I thought I was the one who’s supposed to be begging.”
“That was not begging, moya koroleva. That was a declaration of intent.”
To reach for her food, she’d have to release his cock. Keira decided she wasn’t that hungry, after all. She gave him another slow pump. “What’s the third option?”
“Hmm?”
She squeezed him harder. “The third outcome of us marrying.”
“I thought you would have figured it out by now.” He turned those gray eyes on her, and she couldn’t find the breath to respond. She didn’t need to, because Dmitri kept speaking in that low, rough voice. “You and I as partners, creating a dynasty to outlast all others.”
She wanted to believe that—she needed to believe that—but all she’d gotten from him was a painting with broad strokes and none of the necessary details. “What, exactly, does that look like?”
His gaze fell to her lips even as he twisted his wrist and pushed two fingers into her. “I have a number of businesses that I’ve been neglecting in recent years. They were all from families absorbed into the Romanov territory during my father’s time, and they function more or less on their own…too much on their own if the Eldridges’ actions are anything to judge by. I would have you reinstate ties and remind them who they owe everything to.”
Only the slightest deepening in his voice showed that he was affected by his hand job. She had a harder time moderating her tone. “That’s…a big job.” She’d seen her brothers do similar things, though it was almost always Aiden who went. To have Dmitri sending her…Holy shit, he might actually be telling the truth about what he wants from this—from us. If she did this and fucked it up, it would have real consequences for him. The level of trust he was putting in her by offering that job was staggering on a level she wasn’t prepared to deal with.
“I won’t throw you to the wolves, moya koroleva. We’ll ensure you’re up to par on all the details and players before you go out, and you’ll have a contingent of men with you to ensure your safety.” He slid a third finger into her. “After you’ve brought them to heel, we can discuss expansion.”
Yep, I most definitely love this evil fucker.
She should probably have a problem with the illegal aspect of his businesses, but Dmitri had never made any apologies about who he was and what he did. If she was willing to judge him for it and not her brother…No, she was raised an O’Malley, even if she was a Romanov now. They really weren’t that different. She wasn’t that different from Dmitri.
If she wanted changes, she could be the one to implement them from within.
Her body tightened in response, and she bit back a whimper. “Dmitri—Dima—I’m close.”
He leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. “I know.”
Just like that, she couldn’t deny it any longer. Keira came, pressing her lips together so tightly, they hurt. She shuddered against him, her hand going slack on his cock. “Fuck, Dima. Just…fuck.”
He slid his fingers out of her, but kept cupping her. “Eat something so we can get the fuck out of here.”
Because he wants me. Dmitri’s expression had taken on the wild edge that she loved so much, the monster beneath the mask of civility he wore.
The fact he was still trying to get her to eat—to take care of her—despite the fact that he clearly wanted to drag her out of here by her hair and fuck her behind the nearest closed door…Her heart tried to burst from her chest. She clasped his chin and tipped his head down. “Get it to go.”
“Keira—”
“If you think for a second that I’m going to be able to concentrate enough to get more than a bite or two, you’re not nearly as smart as we both know you are. That orgasm barely took the edge off.” She lifted her hips to press herself more firmly against his hand. “I want you. I want your hands and your mouth and your cock, and I want you now. Get the food to go and you can feed it to me in bed—after.”
For several endless moments, she thought he’d tell her no and reiterate his order for her to eat. Instead, Dmitri nodded once. “Start walking.”
She blinked. “What?”
He kissed her. His tongue tangled with hers even as the feeling of him overwhelmed her. The man kissed like a homecoming warrior who considered her part of his spoils of war. He broke away, leaving both of them breathing harshly. “Better yet—run. If I catch you before you make it back to the house, I’ll fuck you right there on the sidewalk.”
She shivered. It could be bravado, but with the monster beneath the mask peeking out at her, she didn’t think so. He was Dmitri fucking Romanov, and he could do exactly what he promised without consequence. Keira licked her lips. “My art—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He waited for her to meet his gaze. “Pavel will follow, and my men hold several key locations in this area. You’ll be safe the entire time.”
Even in the midst of his frenzy, he was still taking care of her. She took a shuddering breath. “In that case, catch me if you can.”
Keira managed to keep her pace even as she wove through the tables to the front door. Pavel had taken up a spot against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He straightened when he caught sight of her, his brows dropping in confusion. Her body hummed with the need to move, but she knew better than to bolt without saying something. She wanted Dmitri focused on her, not distracted because he was worried she might be snatched off the street. “Home, Pavel. Now,” she ground out.
He nodded and fell into step behind her.
She ran.
* * *
Dmitri was a man possessed. He had the presence of mind to be careful with Keira’s purchases, but he strode through the streets at a fast clip that dared anyone to get in his path or slow him down. The restaurant was only three blocks from the house, but it might as well have been miles. The crowd in front of him parted like the Red Sea, and he caught sight of Keira turning the corner to their home, Pavel shadowing her. She shot a look over her shoulder at Dmitri and grinned, her hand flying out in the universal come and get it gesture.
At that, what little part of him cared about propriety snuffed out. He picked up his pace until he was sprinting after her. She still made it to the house before he did, but not by much.
He caught her on the stairs.
Dmitri dropped the bags on the floor and snatched her upper arm, swinging her to face him. Keira hit his chest, and he grabbed the banister to keep them from tumbling down the stairs. The sound of footsteps moving away from them assured him that Pavel was making himself scarce. He’ll need a fucking raise by the time this is all through.
Dmitri half expected Keira to try to keep running. He should have known better. She shrugged out of her blazer and ripped his shirt from his slacks, sending buttons flying as she shoved it down his arms. “You caught me.”
He shredded her shirt and yanked down her skirt. The garter belt, he left alone. Dmitri hit his knees on the bottom step and buried his face in her pussy. He craved the taste of her, needed to feel her come apart and know he was the reason behind it, needed another tether to bind her to him so she’d never try to leave.
I don’t know what I’d do if she was gone.
Keira’s heels slipped on the hardwood steps, and he barely caught her before she hit the stairs. As it was, they still toppled, her sprawling beneath him, his mouth never leaving her. He started to lift his head to ensure she was okay, but she threaded her fingers through his hair and kept him in place, riding his mouth as all the sexy little cries she’d kept stifled at the restaurant poured from her lips.
Her orgasm wasn’t enough. He needed more. All of her. He shucked off his pants and crawled between her thighs, thrusting into her with a rough move. Dmitri tried to pull back, to regain some kind of control, to perhaps move this upstairs and away from anyone who might walk in, but Keira kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Yes, Dima. There. Fuck me like that.” She slid her foot down the back of his thigh and up again. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“I’ll never get enough of you. You are mine and I am yours, and I’m keeping you for the rest of our fucking lives. I love you, you crazy woman, and I’m never letting you go,” he growled in Russian. He shoved into her harder, responding to her cries of more, more, yes, ohmygod yes. Her orgasm hit, her pussy milking him, the feeling too good to deny. He wanted his cum in her, marking her like the fucking savage he was. Dmitri let go, burying his face in her neck as his strokes shuddered and he came hard enough to see stars. “God in heaven above.”
Keira laughed softly. “I don’t think God had anything to do with what we just did.” She shifted and winced. “Damn.”
He lifted his head. “What’s wrong?”
Her smile came accompanied with another wince. “Hardwood stairs are a bitch.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” He pushed off her and pulled her up to sit in a single move. Bruises already darkened her pale skin, and there were scrapes where his thrusts had shoved her against the edges of the steps. For the first time in his life, he felt sick at the sight of someone else’s pain. “I’m sorry.” Dmitri scooped her up and stood.
“I’m not.” She let her head fall against his shoulder. Her expression looked blissed-out, not regretful or pained at all, but the only thing he could focus on was the damage he’d done to her.
Dmitri did not lose control. Not ever. And yet every time he turned around, he was doing exactly that with Keira.
He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and bypassed the bed in favor of the tub. A hot soak wouldn’t help the scrapes, but it would ease the soreness. “Can you stand?”
“Yes, Dima, I can stand because I’m perfectly okay. It’s going to take more than a deliciously rough fucking to screw me up.”
He believed her, but that didn’t mean his actions were excused. He set her carefully on her feet and got the water running. Only then did he sit on the edge of the tub and set his hands on her hips. “Turn around.”
She rolled her eyes, but she obeyed. He sucked in a harsh breath. It was worse than he’d thought. “Keira—”
“No. Absolutely not.” She spun back to face him, her hazel eyes furious. “Tonight was good for me—all of it. Really fucking good. I need you to not ruin it with some crazy male guilt that you should be beyond. If you didn’t notice, I was screaming your name as I came for the third time on those stairs.” She glared. “And you don’t hear me losing my shit because I scratched your back to hell.”
“That’s different.” He welcomed the marks she left, the physical representation of her abandon.
But he recognized a losing battle when he saw one. As sick as her bruises left him, if he pushed this, he’d lose all the ground they’d covered tonight—and likely more. She had him cornered and she damn well knew it. He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. “Let me take care of you.”
“You have been taking care of me.” She stepped between his thighs and slid her fingers through his hair. “But I’ll make you a deal. You can hover over and mother hen me for the duration of this bath, then you’ll slap some Neosporin on my scrapes, give me a couple ibuprofen, and we’ll eat leftovers in bed. Or not in bed. I don’t give a fuck, but once the endorphins wear off, I’m going to be hungry.”
She was handling him—offering him tasks to redirect his guilt. He almost fought her on it, but what was the point? If she said she was fine, and he didn’t take her at her word, he wasn’t honoring the vision he’d painted for her. She didn’t believe him when he offered for her to be his queen in truth, and overriding her on something that she considered small—even if he didn’t—would confirm her belief that he was lying about everything else.
He dropped his forehead to rest between her breasts. “You’re not giving me much of a choice, moya koroleva.”
“I know.” She kept stroking her fingers through his hair. “But at least I’m giving you a choice at all.”