“Do I?” He undulated against me, rolling his body forward and back. “Do I fill you enough? Do I touch your pleasure point?”
“Yes,” I moaned and angled my hips to meet him. “You're perfect, Niko.”
“Misha,” he panted as he sped up. “Misha, I need you so badly.”
“I'm already yours.”
“Come for me.”
I stroked myself faster, but it wasn't necessary. His words and body pulled the climax out of me, and I did as my king commanded, coming all over myself. Once Niko saw that, he didn't last long. His hips locked up, and he emptied into me with great, hot spurts, then he collapsed over me, bringing my legs down with him. He didn't seem to care that my release lay between us.
Niko nuzzled my face, rolled us onto our sides, and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” No, I didn't mean it. He'd damaged me too much to repair it all with some tenderness. But I started to hope that I might someday. That maybe he hadn't destroyed my heart completely.
Chapter Nineteen
Several minutes later, after snuggling through our slowing breaths and heartbeats, the Swan King stood up and offered me his hand. I took it hesitantly. I still didn't trust this kindness. As I've said before, Niko's greed inevitably followed any good act. But he only helped me stand and then we dressed in companionable silence. I didn't know what to do next, I was completely thrown by his behavior. So, as he got on the phone and ordered dinner, I sat in one of the chairs before his desk.
The light snow had become a storm, flakes clumping in the corners of the iron mullion grid that dissected the window. Gathering instead of melting. It had gone dark out there while we'd . . . done whatever it was that we'd just done. I didn't know what to call it. It couldn't have been making love since I didn't love him, but it hadn't been mere sex either. It definitely wasn't fucking. And I hadn't realized it had gone on so long either. Long enough for the afternoon to become night. Granted, the sun set around four in the winter, and the storm was thick enough to add to that darkness.
I thought of Konstantin, standing beneath the bare larch trees, tearing open my old wounds to pour verbal salt in them. I'd been harsh with him, but he'd said things that I wasn't ready to hear. He had pushed too far. Pushed me right into Niko's arms. And Niko had snatched me up in his beak like a wriggling fish.
I looked up at the King as he stepped around the desk, then settled into a lean against it right in front of me.
“I believe you were going to give me a report before I . . . interrupted you.” Niko smiled softly.
I didn't buy it. Now that I wasn't touching him, wasn't caught in the spell of his body and words, I started reevaluating what had just happened. Twenty-two years we'd been together, and Nikolay had never behaved like that. Could he be telling the truth? Could he really have had an epiphany because of the rage I'd driven him to? Or was it more likely that he'd sensed my sadness and exploited the wound that another man had opened? The sour taste in my mouth led me toward the latter.
Nikolay may not be the best king, but he was a brilliant tactician. He did everything for a reason. And he had just tried to bind me closer to him. Why? It could only be this investigation. He suspected that I would hold things back from him, even after he ordered me to be his spy. So he was buying some emotional insurance.
I didn't trust him before, but after that performance, I trusted him even less.
Sofia's frightened face popped into my head, and I knew I couldn't tell Niko the truth. Hopefully, Konstantin wouldn't hand in his own report. Or, if he did, he'd be wise enough to say something similar to what I was about to.
“It was a very frustrating day,” I said. “We started questioning people about Eva's murder.”
“The maid?”
“Yes. We spoke to her mother, searched her room, then spoke with her closest friend.”
“And?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “And we're out of leads. Konstantin says there must be a connection between the three victims, but we haven't found one yet.”
Nikolay grunted. “I told you that he wouldn't find anything. What could an outsider discover that one of us hasn't?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“And so you will be moving on to Lady Milana's murder tomorrow?”
“I expect so.”
“He hasn't told you?”
“I left abruptly today. We had an argument.”
“Ah, yes, I suspected as much.” He looked me over. “Men like him can be difficult to work with.”
