Page 27 of The Tsar's Obsession
He said he had the other part of it—the fucking remote control.
This was a situation. This– this was it.
Kirill was boldly taking it all to the next level, no longer on the edge. There was still time for me to turn around, to run away, to reject this all. But there was no denying that the fire of resistance inside me was now only a tiny flame.
What’s the worst that could happen? I pondered as I stared at the little thing. I orgasm at the dinner table?
I took the plunge.
As if nothing just transpired between us, I joined him in his car, not revealing if I decided to play by his rules. Our conversation was light and carefree as Yuri weaved through the streets toward The Met.
We pulled up, and without warning, Kirill’s hand snaked into mine, intertwining our fingers. “Let’s go, Sunshine.” And with this man, I didn’t rip my hand out. This time, all I wanted was to hold on.
The whole room was illuminated in soft candle-lightbouncing off the white and pastel colors of the venue. I was here as a representative of the brokerage, and it wasn’t a coincidence that we were all invited. But why the hell was Viv here!?
I made questioning eye contact with her from across the room, where she chatted up a tall man, her smile radiant and seductive.
“I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Kirill left to say his hellos, looking back at me with a wink, and immediately, the little vibrator kicked into gear. I jerked forward, instinctively stretching out my hand, as if I could grab onto air for support. “Oh shit.” I squeaked out, the sensation melting through me.
As quickly as it started, the little toy stopped its torture, and I took a deep breath in. I could do this, I reassured myself, and put on my mask of professionalism.
Everyone was here, including Polina, of course. Yes, there she was, her dress sparkling like tiny diamonds. Her ginger hair and slender figure worked incredibly well with the silver color, and I hated how put together and impeccable she always looked. With a glass of champagne in her manicured fingers, no smile, only a deadly expression on her face, she stood with another man, discussing something while he nodded and listened intently.
Who were these people, really? What kind ofinvestorsshow up from Russia and integrate into New York’s high society, financing real estate projects and shaking hands with the rich and influential? In fact, there was Kirill, shaking hands with the mayor’s son, an honest smile on his face, perfectly matching that man’s energy.
“Mia,” another voice brought me out of my head, and I turned to see my half-brother Jeremy leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He was a mildly controversial figure in my life. He was loaded, well-connected and powerful, but always pretended he was just a regular run-of-the-mill bachelor. “Look at us, huh? Seeing each othernotat Christmas or Easter.” His joke accentuated our estranged relationship. We only saw each other once or twice a year even though we worked in the same industry. He wasalways sketchy, and I never wanted to associate with him too much.
“Shocking. We’ll finally have something to discuss at Christmas.” I matched his little laugh as he straightened out. “What happened to your hand?” I noticed that his right hand was fully bandaged.
“Fell off my bike at five in the morning, broke every single one of my fingers.” Without giving me anymore information, he gave me a quick nod and walked away, approaching an older man with gray hair.
I scanned the room and headed toward Viv, but the vibrator suddenly kicked into action once more, making me lose my walking rhythm.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my whole body going rigid. The sensation between my legs was stronger, more intense, and relentless. I clutched at the champagne flute, resisting the urge to fall to my knees.
Kirill was engaged in a conversation with two men, but he wasn’t speaking. He stood between them, his arms crossed and his finger at his lips, as if he was signaling me to keep quiet. And in his hand—held loosely between his fingers—was something small. Black.The other part.
Once he was sure that I noticed him, his thumb moved, and the intensity between my legs tripled, sending my eyes into the back of my head. Oh fuck. My skin heated, my vision blurred, and my fucking clit wason fire—he wasn’t playing.
“You okay?” Viv’s voice broke through my delirium, my body betraying me.
“No,fuck, I’m not okay, Viv, I’m in too fucking deep!” I grabbed onto her arm, fighting both my laughter and theurge to fucking moan Kirill’s name out loud and collapse on the floor. But he was suddenly right behind me, his large hand landing on the small of my back, and all the sensations between my legs subsided into nothing.
“Good evening, Vivian. Nice of you to come.”
“Thanks for the invite! My boss is very pleased to be here.”
“I’m going to steal Mia for a minute,” Kirill informed us both, and as if I was a simple cut-out of a human being, his hand was in mine, leading me away from Viv and pulling me closer to him. “I bet you wish you picked the truth now, huh?” he taunted, but I was still coming down from the little ride he’d just served me.
“Fuck you. I can handle this.” My confidence was overflowing, but I had no conviction in me.
“Oh yeah?” He narrowed his eyes, speaking with amusement. “I like that you stand up to the challenge, Mia. Let’s see if you survive tonight.” With this, he abandoned me once more, the little waves of pleasure restarting between my legs with renewed energy.
No. No, I wouldn’t make it out of this alive.
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