Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Rough, toe-curling sex…I like the sound of that.”
Her eyes still closed, she raises her brows. “Oh, I know you do. No doubt. Anyway, in my dream you were talking about tigers and dens and galas. What’s going on?”
I lean my pillows up against the headboard and reach for her, pulling her onto my lap. She curls in like a little kitten. I tuck a blanket around her.
“Every year, the Romanov family hosts this huge gala in the dead of winter. Why winter, I have no idea. Half the time it’s snowing. It’s called the Glacial Gala. Everyone comes to it. Makes us look good. We earn a ton of money and donate it and everyone thinks we’re philanthropists. It’s sort of Polina’s passion.”
“Ahh. So when you say everyone…who might that include?”
“Everyone who’s anyone of influence. Celebrities. Business leaders. Politicians.” I make a face. “Socialites.”
“Yikes. You’d probably rather have your fingernails pulled off one by one, wouldn’t you?”
“Hmm. That’d be a hard choice, but…”
Aria stills. Pressing a finger to her chin, I lift her gaze up. “What is it?”
“Those are the exact people I discovered, Mikhail. You know this, right?”
I nod. “I do. Why do you think I hesitated when talking to Polina? But she’s right. You can’t hide forever. Better parading in front of those who might want to pursue you while wearing your armor.”
“My armor?” she asks curiously, her head tipped to the side.
I bend and take her mouth with mine, a kiss that’s at once sensual and demanding. After last night, I suspected she’d be malleable and eager. I’m not wrong. “Me.”
“Oh, God,” she whispers when I move my mouth to the hollow of her neck. “What are you doing to me?”
“Worshipping you, obviously.” I nip her ear and her back arches. I lick the sore flesh and suck her lobe between my lips. “I love how you taste. I love how you feel.”
Rolling over, I pin her beneath me. “That’s so sexy,” she whispers in a low moan. “Calling yourself my…armor.”
“What else would I call putting myself between you and anyone that threatens or hurts you?”
She smiles against my lips as I take her mouth with mine. I touch my tongue to hers and relish the way she moans and responds, her fingers stabbing into my hair as she wraps her legs around me.
“So fucking beautiful,” I whisper in her ear. “I’d kill for you, Aria. I’d kill anyone that came between you and safety or happiness. Do you understand me?”
I want her to take me fully, as I am. I need her to know who I truly am. Finally, she nods, spreading her legs for me. A silent invitation for me to take her fully.
I plunge myself into her hot, slick pussy.
Her head falls back and she screams in pleasure, her arms wrapped around me. I take her wrists and place them above her head, lowering my full weight on her.
“I understand,” she murmurs. “I do.”
I bend and take her mouth. “Thank you,” she says softly when I pull away.
I wonder if she’ll be thanking me when she knows what else I have in store for her. Will my adoration and protection be enough?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Aria
I wake with a wave of nausea.
I toss my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom just in time. I kneel over the toilet and retch.
Oh, God.
Something I ate? Maybe it was something I ate. We ordered DoorDash from some Russian bistro place he likes, and while it was delicious, I ate some foods I’d never eaten before.
God, no, I can’t be sick! Not today.
Tonight’s the night of the gala. Polina and I actually got to go shopping and pick out accessories. Mikhail picked out my dress and I’m excited to see it.
Wait — the night of the gala. The night when I’ll be around all the people that want me dead.
Maybe I don’t have to go? Conflicting emotions? Yeah.
I bend my mouth over the toilet a second time. When I rest my head on my arm, panting from the exertion, I feel Mikhail’s warm presence behind me.
“I’m so sorry you’re sick, love,” he says with concern. I open my mouth to respond, when another wave of nausea hits me. This time, he holds my hair until I’m spent. I rest my head on my arm again.
“Maybe it’s the food we ordered last night?”
I lean back against the wall. The cool tile feels good beneath me.
Mikhail crouches in front of me, his eyes a picture of concern. He’s already hit the gym and showered, his dark hair damp, and he’s dressed in business casual, so he likely has a meeting.
My throat gets all tight when he brushes my hair out of my eyes and places his large hand across my forehead. “You’re not warm. How else do you feel?”
I wipe at tears in my eyes. “That’s so sweet,” I say, wondering what’s come over me so suddenly. I’m not usually all sappy and sentimental. “I was just nauseous.”