I shrink a little under his gaze. “There are better women for you than me. Older, more age appropriate women. Women without reputations, without some sordid history?—”
“I don’t want to be with those women. I want to be with you.”
That stops me and I gaze up at him. My heart reaches out to him. “Do you, really?”
“You doubt that?”
I slide down off his desk and lean back on it, feeling a little more inadequate than I did when I walked in here. “My father died in disgrace. I’m sure there are plenty of your men who think that I carry his shame. That’s a blemish on your legacy. I shouldn’t be with you.”
He regards me for a moment. “Tanechka,” he says softly, “you are the reason we are here in this space. I wouldn’t have done any of this if I didn’t want us to have the best possible life we can have.”
“I know that,” I say. “I’m just wondering if?—”
“Stop.” He says it firmly, but just as soft. It stops me cold. “You are my queen. If you don’t know that by now, well, I suppose I’ll have to prove it, won’t I?”
He turns and locks the door. I laugh nervously. “Viktor, what are you?—”
He takes me by the hand and leads me over to his chair. It’s an expensive leather chair with a high back like a throne and one of the first things I bought him while we were renovating. It’s covered with soft brown leather, and the arms have a dozen silvery buttons around the front and down the sides. He positions me in front of it.
“Take off your robe and sit.”
“Viktor—”
“You know I don’t like repeating myself, Tati.”
His eyes darken, throwing warning my way. I do as I’m told. My robe falls to the floor, revealing my body in all it’s naked glory to him. Then I sit down on the leather chair.
“No one sits in this chair,” he says as he starts undoing his shirt, “but the Pakhan. This chair in this room speaks of authority.” He takes off his shirt and I’m distracted by his chest, muscular, scarred, and covered in tattoos. Just seeing him shirtless still gets me hot.
“The problem you are having right now, my love, is that you haven’t been anointed yet.” He steps away, walking over to the drink caddy in the corner. He pulls out a crystal decanter with clear vodka in it. “I had to take an oath when I joined the Bratva, but you? You have never been properly welcomed into the fold.”
He’s standing before me with the bottle of vodka, holding it casually in his hands. “You may’ve been born into this, but you’ve never been properly initiated. Rituals like that are important, you see. It lets you know exactly where you belong.”
He takes the top off the decanter and hands it to me. “Drink.”
“Viktor, I’m pregnant.”
“It’s not alcoholic. It won’t hurt the baby. Drink.”
I do. I take a big swig from the decanter. The drink is sweet to the taste, like honey. He leans into me before I can swallow, kissing me and sharing the sweet, spicy liquid between us. It dribbles down my chin as he sucks on my lips and his tongue twists up with mine.
“That’s good, hmm?” he says softly. I nod. “It’s a special blend of honey tea. When I drink it, it reminds me of you.”
He kisses my lips again, then my chin and down to my neck. I enjoy the attention, warm lips on my skin against the sloppy wetness of tea streaking down my skin. He stands back up and takes the decanter, pouring the sweet tea over my chest. The cool liquid runs down my breasts and over my nipples, already taut from excitement.
He leans back in, his tongue lapping up a pool from the hollow of my throat, then moving down the center of my chest.
“This is nice,” I murmur, “but Viktor?—”
“Trust the process,” he says, kissing my right breast. His warm tongue moves circles around my areola, licking away the honey sweet drink, flicking my nipples and finally sucking them. The sweet smell of the spiced tea invades my senses as my breath starts to hitch. He squeezes my other breast before moving over to it and repeating the same pattern, licking the amber brew from my nipples before sucking them hungrily.
My toes curl into the carpet as flicks and sucks them, the intense sensation swirling around in my chest like a warm whirlpool. I run my fingers through his thick dark hair and he glances up at me.
“You bless me with your touch,” he whispers. “I’m ravenous for you, my love.”
I’m biting my lip to keep from getting too much more excited. His praise is unparalleled. He grabs both my breasts and kneels as he kisses me down my belly. When he gets between my legs he reaches up to the desk and grabs the decanter, dipping his fingers in.
“Do you promise to be by my side…” He draws a line of tea along one of my thighs, then licks it away. “Forever… and ever?” He does the same with my other thigh. “To love me until the end of time? To be the queen to my king?”
