I’m surprised as I watch the cocky look in Kirill’s eyes slip into helplessness. It’s not a look I’ve seen on him before, and it makes my heart twitch in a funny way.
“What can I do,devochka?” he asks. “How can I make you feel better?”
I snuggle further down until my head is in his lap and hitch my leg over his.
“This is helping,” I sigh, then glance up with a pleading smile. “And maybe a movie? Something comforting?”
“We can watch whatever you like,” he tells, then reaches for the remote.
“Sin City?” I request, and his sudden laughter jostles my head.
“That’syour comfort movie?” he asks.
I can’t help but giggle along with him and shrug.
“What can I say? I like the romance.”
“Romance?! It’s full of violence and prostitutes! The acting is terrible!”
“It’s supposed to be terrible,” I giggle, “And there’s a lot a sweetness too. I like how the big brute guys will do anything to protect their women.”
“Hmm,” he hums, giving my ass a gentle slap and squeeze. “Do you now?”
I nod my head, then bat my lashes innocently as I lay a quick kiss on his abs.
Kirill chuckles again as he shakes his head, but he pulls the movie up and pushes play.
For the first ten minutes or so of the movie, I’m in bliss. Kirill’s hand is sending lovely jolts of relief through my scalp, mystomach is feeling less fluttery, and I’ve found a very comfy spot curled up in Kirill’s lap.
Then Kirill slides his hand down my back, using the heel of his palm to massage my muscles. I gasp at the wonderful sensation, and wiggle further into his touch. As I do so, my cheek rubs against something hard beneath his sweatpants, and I know it's not his legs. I nuzzle my cheek a little further, and a spark of heat shoots through me as I feel his cock throb and jump.
Kirill clears his throat as he shifts in the bed.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs.
I look up and my hardcore mafia prince husband actually looks a little bashful. I realize I don’t only find this cute, but incredibly hot.
“Don’t be,” I whisper, then nuzzle my cheek against him once again.
A tortured sound leaves my husband’s throat, sending heat through my core, and I turn my head so I can plant my parted lips on the fabric and blow my warm breath over the outline of his cock.
Kirill’s grasp on my jaw is quick and firm- but not harsh.
“Devochka.”His eyes and voice are full of warning he makes me look up at him, and he gives a terse shake of his head.
“I feel better,” I whisper, need starting to pulse through my veins.
“And if my cock is jammed down your throat? You think you’ll still feel that way?”
My mouth waters at his blunt words.
“It’d be worth the risk,” I rasp.
Kirill’s eyes begin to glow with arousal as he looks down at me, but his words shatter my hopes.
“No it’s not,” he tells me. “I can appreciate your hunger,devochka,but I’m not going to be the reason your stomach gets upset again.”
I pout. Like a fucking child being told I can’t have my toy, I pout, and I turn my head back to the movie, embarrassed. My eyes barely catch the screen though before Kirills hand is around my throat and he’s pulling me upward. His mouth crashes against mine hard; tongue and lips and teeth taking full possession so quickly that it makes me dizzy- and then he pulls away.
