The way he looks at me in reply sends a tingle down into my core. He leans forward and wipes the tears from my eyes—and brings them to his lips, sucking them from his fingers. My jaw drops in surprise. He does it again, and this time, he pushes his fingers into my mouth. I hesitate, panicking, before I suck them, tasting the salt.
“You can try,” he whispers as he slides his fingers past my lips and back out again. “But I doubt you’ll be very good at it.”
With that, he pulls his pants back on. Once we’re both decent, he knocks on the driver’s window and instructs him to take us back to the hotel. I’m left simmering, stunned and pulsing with how badly I still want him, even if sleeping with him is much more complicated than it should be.
CHAPTER 9
GABE
Iwake early. My wife sleeps late. I can tell this is going to be a real pain in the ass, moving forward, but luckily I’m still on the couch.
For now, anyway, and only because of what happened in the car.
I dress quietly and slip out of the room. There’s a guard on the door and I make sure he knows to keep Nika inside no matter what. I’m distracted as I take the elevator down to the hotel’s restaurant and sit in a corner booth. I ask for coffee and scan a menu, barely seeing the words.
Virgin. She’s a fucking virgin.
My fingers curl tight, bending a spoon in half.
Why is this bothering me so much? It’s irrelevant. My wife’s sexual status doesn’t matter at all to my greater mission. So what if she’s untouched?
If she’s never felt a man between her legs? Never been taught how to take a thick cock, how to moan through an orgasm, how to arch her back and grind her hips?
I let out a soft snarl. The spoon clatters away and falls to the floor. The morning waitress frowns at me as she pours more coffee into my mug. I barely acknowledge her.
This is going to drive me mad.
Nika is a means to an end. She’s a fat bank account and nothing more. I married her for legitimacy and all the zeroes after her net worth.
What she looks like as she comes, her softness contrasting with moments of sharp fierceness, sunlight spilling through her hair, that addictive laugh?—
None of it matters.
There’s only one goal.
Dragon.
I look up as Daniel slips into the booth across from me. He looks tired. Usually he’s put together, but he’s disheveled this morning as he passes a folder across the table to me and waves the waitress down for more coffee.
“What’s this?” I flip it open with a finger, glancing inside before fully opening it. There’s a photo on the first page. I frown in recognition. “Marat Lukin?”
“Among others.” The waitress pours Daniel’s coffee. He seems grateful as she walks off and takes a moment to admire her ass. “Good looking woman.”
“She’s in her sixties.”
“I like them ripe.”
“Not sure she’d like being calledripe.” I flip open the dossier. There are more photos. Gleb Karanov. Vadim Zabelin. There’s an image of the three of them meeting with a third man, just out of frame. I turn to the final page?—
And physically recoil. My jaw works. Outrage floods me. I look up and Daniel’s quietly sipping his coffee, his usual confidence and bravado gone.
“It’s real,” he confirms without me having to ask. “I took those shots myself. Been up all night developing the film.”
I lean my head back and close my eyes.
Marat, Gleb, and Vadim are all important Brigadiers in my organization. They’ve been helping to run and maintain the Kiselyov Bratva as we’ve splintered away from the main former Medved group.
Until now, they’ve been useful.
