Page 124 of Cruel Romeo

For a moment, the hardness slips from his expression. He studies me the way he has since I was a boy. Half soldier, half uncle, all family. “You don’t have to like it, Petyr. You just have to survive it. That’s what matters.”

My throat tightens, but I nod once. “You’ve kept me alive this long.”

“And I’ll keep doing it,” he replies, no hesitation. His mouth pulls into the faintest of smiles. “But you’re thepakhannow. My job’s just to make sure you never forget what that means.”

Despite the night’s carnage and the blood still leaking out of corpses somewhere behind us, warmth flickers in mychest. Whatever else this life takes from me, Ivan is still here.

For now.The thought of the traitor lingers. What will he try to take from me next?

Ivan gets out in front of his apartment. “Be careful, Petyr,” he says as he parts from me. “These are desperate times. Desperate times breed desperate people. And desperate people?—”

“Are dangerous,” I cut in. “I know. Get some sleep, Uncle.”

The rest of the drive home is a blur, but my body refuses to wind down. Adrenaline still buzzes under my skin like static, leaving me wired, restless, hungry for some kind of release. I should be bone-tired after tonight, but my mind won’t let me stop.

It’s hung up on a single, obvious point: I could have died tonight. If I’d moved a second slower, if my return fire had been off, I’d be lying in a pool of my own blood instead of Boris.

And Sima would be at home. Alone, vulnerable. Unprotected. That idea ices my veins more than the gunfire ever did.

The car barely stops before I’m out. I take the steps two at a time, jam the elevator button and head upstairs fast. I need to see her. Need proof she’s safe.

The living area is quiet, but when I push open our bedroom door, I freeze.

The lights are on. The bed is still made, untouched.Empty.

I feel a rush of panic. For one savage heartbeat, I think she’s gone. Taken. The deal undone and my world ripped out from under me.

Then I hear her voice.

“Petyr? You okay?”

It comes from the corner of the room. She’s curled in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, legs pulled up, eyes uneasy.

Relief hits me hard enough I almost stagger. “You waited up.”

Her fingers twist in her lap. “I have to talk to you.”

“Later.” I stride across the room straight toward her.

As soon as I’m within reach, I haul her up from the chair and into my chest, holding her tight enough to hurt. Right now, I don’t want words. I just need her close.

But even this—her in my arms, warm, fragrant—isn’t enough. I need more proof that she’s still here with me.

My hands fist in the hem of her t-shirt, yanking it up and over her head and baring her skin to me. Then I duck down and nip at the soft underside of her breast.

Sima arches into me with a startled cry. “Ah!”

Her nipples pebble under my tongue as I suck and nip, wild and desperate. Faint red marks rise around one nipple before I move to the other.

Her underwear tears easily under my grip, a sharp rip that makes her gasp while my mouth is still on her breasts.

Closer, closer. More, more.I can’t fucking get enough. That’s the goddamn truth. Sima’s body is a drug, and I’m tired of pretending I haven’t gotten addicted. That I’m not about to go insane every time I’m forced to be apart from her.

I drag my mouth down from her breasts and leave a hungrytrail of kisses across her ribs, her stomach, lower and lower. Mark every inch, then settle between her thighs.

Before she can say a word, my mouth is on her center.

I press her back against the mattress and bury my face between her thighs. I lap at her until she’s trembling, until her fingers claw at the sheets, until she cries out my name like it’s the only one she knows.