Page 30 of Torn Souls

“What do you want for dinner?”

She blinks her big brown eyes a few times as if she’s replaying my words in her head to make sure she heard them correctly. I grin down at her, loving the way she fits against my body even though I won’t be admitting that sappy shit out loud any time soon.

“Dinner?” She squeaks, her head tilting to the side.

“Yeah, dinner. It’s a meal enjoyed in the late afternoon or evening, depending on schedules. Meant as the last meal of the day even though I’ve always been partial to desert or even a late-night snack.”

“You cook?” She sounds surprised and I smirk.

“If a man can’t cook, how does he feed himself?” My question is a challenge.

She glances over my shoulder and takes in the opulence surrounding her. We spared no expense on our home, needing a place away from the chaos to be a real home for us. It’s not sterile, but it sure as fuck isn’t cheap either.

“I would think men like you would hire someone with your busy lives and schedules.”

I make a humming sound and shrug one shoulder as if to say we could have gone that route but didn’t. It wasn’t for lack of means, that’s for damn sure, but the thought of having anyone in our house other than us wasn’t something we were willing to entertain.

“Can you make stuffed chicken? Maybe with something to go with sundried tomatoes?”

Unable to take it anymore, I brush my lips across hers. It’s not the kiss I want to take from her, but it’s enough. For now. Her breath hitches and a blush creeps up her neck as her eyes widen and her lips part. She wants me and, fuck, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

I wink at her before stepping back and heading down the stairs with a spring in my step. The sound of her panting breaths follows me, but I don’t adjust my rigid length until I step into the kitchen knowing I won’t be sinking inside of her yet.

I don’t know how long I’ll be able to wait, but being able to focus on feeding her, hoping to help her feel welcome in her new home, is enough for now. I’m sure Kirill has a plan for how to deal with her father and when to make her ours completely.

Hopefully, we don’t have to wait too long.

CHAPTER 10

OAKLYNN

True to the promises in Maxim’s eyes when he left me panting against the wall after our tour, he cooked stuffed chicken breast with a creamy sun-dried tomato mixture inside. It was one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten and I’m still full.

Even better than the food was the company. I didn’t get to really enjoy sharing a meal with Kirill, Maxim, Baker, and Huck the other night at White Stone. Not only were they on guard with my father there, but I had to pretend and play the role expected of me. I sure as hell didn’t get to enjoy sitting at the table with four men who are close like brothers.

I’m sure my presence threw them off a little bit, not used to me being with them, but there was still an easy banter and a feeling of understanding between them. It made me feel welcome in a situation which could have felt awkward and untenable.

As surprising as it might be to someone else, I felt more comfortable and at home within minutes of sitting down for dinner with them than I ever had with my father. There’s no doubt in my mind that these men are far more dangerous than my father, but I feel safe with them. It’s strange to not feel the need to walk on eggshells, something I always had to do since mymom’s passing.

That doesn’t mean it’s not strange being here.

I’m in a new place, one where I’m not entirely sure what is expected of me. I’ve been thrown into a situation I didn’t see coming, but it’s better than the one I was in.

Kirill didn’t even hesitate when telling me about marrying him and his expectations. He doesn’t want a simple marriage of convenience, one where we have our respective corners and are to stay within them. Then there’s the fact that it’s not just him.

He wants to share me with the three other men who make up his family.

The thought makes my mouth dry. I try and swallow, but I’m far too parched.

As I climb from bed, I revel in the feel of the silky nightie I have on. It’s one of the pieces of clothing delivered right before dinner and not long after Kirill, Baker, and Huck came home. Dinner was already smelling so damn good I had to stop myself from hovering over Maxim’s shoulder in the kitchen. Then three men come home and kiss my cheeks as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The icing on the cake was the clothing delivery.

Kirill might have told Maxim it was only a few things to tide me over until I could shop for myself, but the man does not do anything by half, that was clear with the number of bags being carted up the stairs and into the primary bedroom by my men.

My men.

Even the thought now, when I’m all alone, has my cheeks heating.

I’m not sure how I’m going to keep four men satisfied. I’ve had a steady stream of very dirty and sinfully delicious images flashing through my mind since Kirill’s words earlier today gave me the freedom to allow my thoughts to consider such an option.

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