Page 54 of Jewel of the Assassin

Because it just might.

Roman Makarovareally knows how to treat a woman.

In the hot springs room, we shared some charcuterie board-worthy snacks, and he fetched a bottle of vodka and matching bathrobes with our initials printed on them. After, he carried me to the bedroom suite where he gave me a full body massage, tending to my sore limbs and smoldering flesh, including a facial complete with mask and cucumbers.

Now, I’m sprawled out on the bed with him massaging my feet with warming oil while I’m on my third shot of the best vodka I could ever fathom.

“Soon, I will introduce you to the man who makes the spirits.” Roman winks. I gasp as he leans down and bites my large toe.

“Ungh, cut it out.” I’ve got nothing left in me for any more “sexual needs”. And Iwillkick him. “You have your own vodka maker?”

“Distiller. Though he prefers to be called Spirit Lord.” He snorts and rubs my calves. I moan. “A little eccentric, but he makes damn good vodka.”

I look up from the pillow questioningly. “Are all your staff members a little eccentric?”

“Hmm…most, yes,” he acknowledges with a faint smirk. “I’ve taken a liking to the outcasts, the strange ones with brilliance that do not fit into polite society. Their talents are too rich, too rare, to be discarded just because they make people uncomfortable. Wait till you meet Fleur, our greenhouse caretaker.”

“Hmm,” I lay my head back down again, yawning profusely. “I’d like that. But I’m tired. So tired.”

“As you should be. You cannot walk. I’ve done my job right.”

I flip him off.

He chuckles. “I’ll let that go for now. You deserve rest.”

“Damn right I do.”

“You could just say thank you.”

I pause. Why the hell would I saythank you? He pounded my pussy to hamburger hell. Left marks across every inch of my skin. Spent two hours branding me as his—whipping me, chaining me, clamping my tits, spreading me open, and taking my ass while nearly drowning me.

And yet…he gave me the most heart-shattering, soul-breaking pleasure I’ve ever known.

Even without my memories, IknowI’ve never felt highs like that. Because you don’t get to soar that high unless you’re dragged to the darkest depths first.

And I don’t believe anyone else on earth could drag me—or raise me—like Roman Makarova.

So, after a few heartbeats and longer breaths that feel like hours, I finally part my lips to murmur, “Thank you.”

“Horosho devochka.moy Samotsvet.”

My vision is already dimming as he draws the sheets back and removes his robe first, and then mine.

“What are you?—”

He chuffs a laugh, brushing his knuckles across my cheek. “Sleeping naked together enhances sexual intimacy and boosts oxytocin, my love,” he says.

Holy hell, why does he have to look so insanely gorgeous and make me tingle all over? His cock is resting, sated after the long night.

“Regular exposure to each other’s real, unfiltered bodies can promote acceptance and reduce self-consciousness. With my arms around you, our vulnerability bonds. It will foster safety and openness.”

Lowering himself into the bed with me, Roman covers us with the blankets. I confess I love his breath on the back of my neck, and I don’t interrupt as he monologues.

“A few physical benefits: it improves sleep quality and regulates stress hormones, which lowers anxiety and supports immune function.”

He takes my hips and pulls me back, his heated chest against my spine. I can’t deny I love the sound of his voice, of the deep gravel, the way his tone always seems possessive, obsessed with me.

“Less clothing means more airflow and promotes skin health. This can prevent yeast infections, body acne, and sweat buildup. And last but not least…” he says with an amused undertone. “Sleeping cooler boosts male fertility, improving sperm quality—tight underwear and heat can negatively impact it. It’s also why I work out every day and engage in a polar plunge once per week.”