Page 214 of Dark King Daddy

“Which expression?”

“The one you have when you’re about to tell me why I’m wrong.”

“That’s most of my expressions.”

“Yes. But there are micro-differences, depending on the flavor of chastisement.”

I laughed.

“Ksenia. Stay still.”

“Then stop making me laugh.”

He waited for me to settle, his eyes on my mouth. Something in his face changed, and I became very aware that I was naked.

I had almost forgotten. We’d been talking, and the room had warmed, and I’d grown comfortable in the light. Now his gaze moved over me and my breath caught.

The pencil remained still.

My eyes dropped to his lap. His trousers were tight across his groin. He was hard, and the knowledge sent a quick, answering heat between my thighs.

“Is the drawing going well?” I asked.

“Parts of it.”

His voice had changed.

I pressed my thighs together. He saw the movement; of course he did. His eyes returned to mine, and for a few seconds all our teasing deserted us.

I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to watch that careful concentration come apart.

But I wanted him to finish, too.

“Take your time,” I said.

His gaze stayed on me. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

He went back to the drawing. I sat in the lamplight, wet and increasingly impatient, and watched him make the last few marks.

Two minutes later, he set the pencil down.

“Come and see.”

Istood too quickly and had to wait for my tucked-up foot to remember its purpose.

Daniil held out a hand.

“Very dignified,” I said, taking it.

He drew me beside him, his hand settling at my waist, and I looked down at the page.

Oh.

The shoulder was too steep. One hand was too large, and he’d changed his mind about my jaw often enough to leave a faint gray blur. I could see every place he had struggled.

I could also see myself.