Page 33 of Cruel Russian King
“But why? Isn't it safer for you to just stay behind closed doors? I'm sure they'd understand.”
I pushed the needle through and pulled lightly, closing the wound off.
“In Bratva, men don't dosafe. We do planning and execution, our men take the bull by the horns so our women could be…safe.
I knotted the thread and Artyom handed me the scissors. I cut the thread and gently trailed my finger along the stitches.
Artyom’s breath hitched.
In one swift movement, he was on his feet in front of me, my wrists bound by his hands, the needle falling to the ground as breath exhaled quickly from my mouth.
But, the way Artyom is looking at my lips I try to recall if it was a shocked gasp or a breathless moan that eased past my lips.
Desire ignited between my thighs, and I wanted nothing more than for Artyom to pull me into his arms and kiss me.
But, I stepped back…
His grip tightened and his gaze intensified. He leaned his head towards me…
And I froze…
Nothing about Artyom was gentle…and I was positive that a kiss from him wouldn't be either.
But, would you mind though? You and I both know that you've been kissed before and those gentle soothing kisses had never done anything for you…
I stepped back again, yanking my hands away even harder, as panic flared in my chest. I shouldn't be having these feelings for Artyom, I shouldn't.
He dropped my hands and I practically ran out of his office to the bedroom. Maybe, a cold shower would set my mind straight. And if it didn't? I knew I was in big trouble.
Chapter 11 - Artyom
Two days had passed since Ninel helped stitch me up, and the memory of her fingers brushing my skin, massaging the nape of my neck, felt like she was marking me. And fuck…that burned hotter than any bullet wound I had ever gotten.
It didn't go unnoticed how my body now yearned for more touches from her. How that touch…as small as it was…set my fucking soul on fire.
I’d gotten home an hour ago, showered in the office, and now I sat in the armchair, watching her sleep. She had been tense at first, every muscle tight under the cover. But, the longer I watched her…her body softened into the mattress and a part of me wanted to believe it was because her subconscious recognized I was there and I wouldn't let anything happen to her. She knew she was safe with me.
Thirty minutes later, her lashes fluttered and she jolted into a sitting position when her gaze crashed into mine.
“Good morning, Ninel.”
“W-what are you doing here?” Her voice shook, her eyes wide.
“Watching my wife sleep.”
“Why?”
“Because I can.” My hardened tone left no room for more questions.
She just stared, her silence filling the space between us.
“You’ll be coming into the city with me today,” I continued, rising from the chair. “I’ve already chosen your outfit, including your underwear. The body wash and cream I want onyour skin are on the counter in the bathroom. You can decide what accessories to wear.”
I paused in the doorway, turning to look at her again. “And, Ninel, wear your hair up for me today.”
And with that I left.
Twenty-five minutes later, Ninel stepped into the dining room, her soft scent of coconut drifting toward me. My face remained unreadable as I rose from my seat and stalked toward her. She instinctively took a few steps back, then glared at me and planted her feet.
