“I told you not to make me promises.”
“I don't give a fuck about your melodramatic pessimism,” he growled. “You're a good man, and a Garin never leaves a good man in a bad situation.”
“Konstantin, there is nothing—”
He slashed his hand through the air, silencing me. “Never tell me what I can or can't do.”
I couldn't deal with this. If Kon made me believe that I'd be free of Nikolay no matter what and then had to leave me behind, it would break me. So I tried to make light of his vow. “Two kisses and you've already made yourself my protector. I wonder what you'll say after I suck your cock?”
“Don't do that!” His hand left my wrist to wrap around my throat.
I went still, my body knowing what to prepare for before my mind could process it. A hand on the throat could only mean one thing—suffering. I felt myself go numb, both physically and emotionally. Waiting for the worst.
But Konstantin didn't tighten his grip. He didn't cut off my air and watch me gasp. Instead, he moved his hand higher, taking my jaw, and angled me to face him while his thumb pressed into the hollow below my chin, ensuring that I stay that way.
When he saw my reaction, his thumb moved out of that notch to stroke my jaw. “Don't fear me, Misha. I will never hurt you. Believe that if nothing else.”
“I do,” I whispered. “I'm sorry I made light of your vow, but I can't allow myself that kind of hope, Kon. Not yet.”
“I understand.” His hand dropped to mine. “But let me make my promises. It's the only way I can keep them.”
“Kon—”
“You don't have to hope for anything, Misha. You don't have to believe me. Just give me a chance to prove you wrong.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He grinned.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he said one last time as he took a plate from the tray and handed it to me. “Now, let's eat. I'm starving.”
“You don't want me to . . .” I trailed off and looked pointedly at the huge bulge in his pants.
“No. You're not ready for that.”
“I'm not?” I chuckled. “I think I am.”
“You're not.” He poured me a glass of wine and set it before me on the coffee table. “This is too fast for you, too close to the way your king behaves. And I will not have you comparing me to him.”
“I wouldn't—”
“Mikhail,” he cut me off again, “you're still afraid someone will walk in and find us. I don't mind hiding our relationship for now, but I want you to be comfortable when we have sex; I want you to feel safe with me.”
“It's just oral, not real sex.”
His jaw dropped. “Who the fuck told you that?”
“I . . . the way people treat it, I just, I assumed—”
“People or Nikolay?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“So he's fine with you sucking someone else's cock? That doesn't matter to him?”
“No, he doesn't allow that, but he likes it when—forget it. I don't want to talk about this with you.”
