Was he threatened?
If so, why isn’t she telling me?
Sofia leaves with Enzo. I close the door, ready to demand that Katerina tell me what the fuck is going on. B
ut when I turn, I find her watching me, her eyes taking me in. Not in anger or dismissiveness.
No, her gaze makes my dick twitch.
"I love watching you be a father," she says. The switch in her is confusing. The baser man in me doesn’t care.
It likes that the tension between us has evaporated and been replaced with something intoxicating.
"Yeah?" I move toward her, hope flaring in my chest that whatever's been bothering her has passed. "You been spying on us?"
“Maybe a little. The way you are with him… it does things to me."
I close the distance between us, backing her against the wall. "What kind of things?"
Instead of answering, she grabs my shirt and pulls me down, her mouth crashing against mine.
I groan into the kiss, relief and desire flooding through me.
This is my Katerina.
Passionate, uninhibited, claiming what she wants.
I haven’t forgotten how distant she's been, but in this moment, I’m not going to push her.
Not when she’s giving herself to me again.
I lift her, hands gripping her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me growl against her lips.
"I've missed you," I murmur, trailing kisses down her neck.
"I'm right here," she whispers, but there's something in her voice, a thread of sadness beneath the desire.
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. "Are you? Because it feels like you've been a million miles away."
For an instant, I see it again, that flash of fear, of secrets.
Then she's kissing me again, more desperately this time, her body arching against mine as if she's trying to burn away whatever haunts her.
I should push, should demand answers.
But with her hands sliding under my shirt, her breath hot against my skin, all I can think is that I'd do anything to keep her looking at me like this.
I carry her to our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me.
She tears at my clothes, impatient, desperate. I'm just as frantic, ripping her nightgown over her head and tossing it aside.
"Fuck, I need you," I growl, laying her on the bed.
Her body is a masterpiece.
Curves in all the right places, skin like silk under my hands.
