Page 73 of Filthy Lies

His hands find my hair, careful not to disturb my styled curls but desperate for something to anchor him.

I feel powerful here, on my knees before the most dangerous man I know. His body trembles, but he lets me do as I please.

The only time Vincent Akopov ever truly surrenders control.

I pull back and swirl my tongue around the tip. “You’re always protecting everyone,” I whisper against his heated flesh. “Always planning. Always three steps ahead.” I take him deeper, feeling him hit the back of my throat. “Let go. Just for a minute.”

A groan tears from his chest as his fingers tighten in my hair. I taste the salt of him, feel the throb of his pulse against my tongue. His vulnerability is intoxicating.

I work him relentlessly, using every trick I’ve learned to drive him to the edge. His thighs shake beneath my hands, and I know he’s close.

“Rowan,” he gasps. “I’m going to?—”

I dig my nails into his thighs and take him impossibly deeper, giving him permission without words. He comes with a strangled sound, his body rigid as he empties down my throat.

I swallow every drop.

When I finally release him, his chest is heaving, his face flushed with rare color. I rise gracefully, smoothing down my dress as if I’ve merely been adjusting the hem.

“Better?” I ask, reaching up to straighten his tie.

He catches my wrist, bringing my hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to my palm with such reverence it makes my heart stutter.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmurs.

“Nothing good,” I reply with a wicked smile. “But maybe that’s the point.”

He laughs as the last of the tension finally leaves his shoulders. “We’re going to be late.”

“Worth it.” I check my lipstick in the mirror, reapplying where needed. “Besides, they can’t start without us.”

As I turn to leave, his hand catches mine, squeezing once. No other words are needed. Just that.

A sharp knock interrupts the sweet moment. Arkady’s voice comes through the door, strained and urgent. “Vin, we have a situation. Solovyov men have been spotted near the church. And Agent Carver’s vehicle was identified two blocks away.”

The calm aftermath shatters instantly. Vince’s face hardens back into the mask I know too well.

“We’ll be right out,” he calls. He turns to look at me. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“They came to a christening?” I ask, incredulous.

“So much for ‘some lines can’t be crossed,’” he mutters in disgust.

“Do we cancel?”

“No.” Vince’s voice goes hard. “We proceed exactly as planned. If we cancel, they win. Unless…” He looks at me and frowns.

I want to cancel. Hell, I want to wrap up in his arms and his scent and stay here forever. So long as I have him and my baby, we’re all okay.

But I can’t do that. And keeping those things requires action.

So there will be no hiding for us today. No letting office doors close in our face, metaphorically speaking.

“No,” I say. “Fuck them. We go out with our chins high.”

Vince’s smile is delicious. “That’s my girl.”

I cross to Sofiya’s crib where she’s been snoozing in her christening gown, unaware of the storm brewing around her. As I lift her into my arms, she blinks awake, those blue eyes—Vince’s eyes—focusing on me with perfect trust.

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