Page 26 of The Tsar's Obsession
“Mia,” he said, mirroring my tone perfectly, making my stomach twist. “Let me tell you how this is going to go.” I stilled from his words, my jaw dropping from his command.
I liked it.Fuck, I liked it.
“You’re going to wear it to the gala.” Hisvoice dipped lower, and the ache intensified. “You’re going to let me put it on you myself. And when I see it around your neck,” —he exhaled, slow, deliberate— “I’ll think about you wearing just that, for me.”
He would be my end, I was sure of it.
But instead, it was just the beginning. Our late-night texts morphed into late-night phone calls. His deep voice lulled me to sleep with sweet nothings, telling me stories about Russia, asking me questions about how I saw the world and what mattered to me.
“Tell me why you don’t believe in love, Sunshine.” It was late, it was dark, I was in my bed, about to see him at the gala the next day. I had seen him only once since the time he showed up at my apartment, and that meeting was strictly professional, both of us playing the role.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I believe in true love. A love that lifts you up. Changes you. Steers you in the right direction. Pulls you out of the dark…into the light.”
I let his words sink in.Out of the dark…into the light.The night before, he told me my soul was pure, light…and light always wins over darkness.
“Can I change my mind? I pick dare. Not the truth.”
There was a pause while he considered my question. “You can. But if you pick dare, Mia…you can’t back down,” he teased.
“I won’t. I’m a woman of my word.”
And that was a big mistake because the dare arrived a little before I was set to leave the house for the event.
My champagne pink dress worked seamlessly with my dark blonde hair, the thin straps gently settling over my shoulders. The thigh-high slit was just dangerous enough. The only thing that was missing was the diamond necklace, and as if on cue, a loud knock sounded on the door.
Oh shit, he wasn’t fucking joking; he was going to show up and put this damn necklace on me. I could do this; I could survive this night. I swung the door open, not sure what I was expecting to see—but not this perfection. Not this literalGod.
Kirill wasn't real. Couldn’t be. He was the kind of beautiful that ruined lives.
The scent of his cologne, ofhim,hit me like a tidal wave. His black suit was tailored with immaculate precision; a black bowtie around his long, kissable neck settled right beneath his Adam’s apple. Those gorgeous brown locks carefully tousled back, and those green eyes hiding a hint of mischief as always. And that smile—just for me.
“You look beautiful, Mia.” His voice husky, he cleared his throat. “May I come in?” That question was rhetorical because he was already inside, doing whatever he wanted, and, like always, I let him.
We just stood there, and I wondered…maybe, maybe we could just not go? Maybe we could just get this over with, and I could fall into his arms, into his body and energy, and just fucking die.
But he side-stepped me and walked farther into my apartment, toward the dining table where the diamond necklace was waiting for him.
He came up behind me, his presence all-consuming, and we both turned to face the mirror. The ache between my legs returned, morphing into a desperate throb.
Carefully, gently, slowly, the large stones met my burning skin. His hands were steady and certain—always in control. He fastened the clasp and let the diamonds rest against my collarbone. Perfect—as if the necklace were custom-made for me.
“Breathtaking,” he leaned in and whispered, voice thick with ownership. His eyes were on mine in the mirror—relentless and dangerous. His fingers lingered at my nape, just beneath the clasp, the innocent action making me delirious. “And now you’ll wear my second gift.”
My blood rushed through all of me. “Second gift?”
He nodded and breathed me in. "Your dare."
I turned, our bodies mere inches away from each other. “Dare?” I blinked up at him, naïve and in denial. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now.” He produced a small black box wrapped in ablack silk ribbon from behind his back, looking like some occult artifact. Before I could pull on the ribbon, he added his last words, “I have the other part of it. I’ll wait downstairs for you. Yuri will drive us.”
And just like that, he stepped out of my apartment and shut the door with one last lascivious look at me. With my heart somewhere outside my chest, I dared to pull on the ribbon and open the box to see a handwritten note.
Be a hellcat tonight, little angel. Let me corrupt your innocent soul. Just a bit.
And underneath this sinister message was a small, black vibrator! My face burned like I was a witch, and this was Salem in the seventeenth century.
