Page 115 of Konstantin

“If you stick around long enough…” He pushes up my chin with his thumb. “You’ll find I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve.”

He drops his lips to mine and kisses me slow, every pull of his mouth against mine sending my pulse fluttering. When he pulls away, I’m breathless, my skin still tingling from the feel of him.

He arranges the food, placing the platters at the center of the table, then sets two plates and small bowls for us before taking his seat at the head, with my chair positioned to his right.

The dishes are unlike anything I’ve seen before. Rich colors,bold textures, the kind of food that makes your stomach ache with anticipation. My eyes settle on a steaming pot filled with something dark red, like blood.

“What’s this?” I ask as he pours some into my bowl, then fills his own.

“Borscht. It’s a Russian soup with beets and other vegetables. You’re going to love it.”

I hesitate for a second, eyeing the unfamiliar dish, then dip my spoon in and taste it. The flavor hits me immediately. Savory and tangy.

“Wow. This is incredible.”

He watches me closely, satisfaction flickering in his eyes as I take another bite. “Good. I’m glad you like it.”

With every taste, his attention never leaves me, waiting for my reaction as I try the other dishes. Only when he sees that I’m enjoying it does he eat.

As I cut into a piece of chicken, his hand slides up my thigh. “Come sit on my lap. Let me feed you.”

I freeze. “What? No, I’m fine here.”

His smirk deepens. “That wasn’t an invitation, katyonak. Now come.” He pats his thigh.

A grin pulls at my lips as I catch the challenge in his eyes. I stay seated, continuing to eat, while he watches me, nostrils flaring and his mouth twitching with amusement.

“If that’s how you want to play it.”

Before I can react, his arm curls around my back and he’s sweeping me into his arms and lowering me right onto his lap.

“Konstantin!” I gasp, laughter bubbling up from my chest. “What are you doing?”

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Simple.” His fingers graze my chin, sending heat rippling through me. “And if you don’t, I’ll help you. That’s what a marriage is.” Awareness creeps up betweenus, the hungry way he looks at me only deepening. “Now, isn’t this much better?”

“No.”

Yes.

He chuckles softly, leaning to my lips, his tongue breaching the entrance.

His groan of satisfaction stirs something deep inside me, sending a clawing need spreading to my core, making me want him badly enough to beg. His rock-hard erection pushes into me, causing a rush of need to surge through me. I shift, desperate to ease the fire he’s ignited.

He laughs. “It likes you. Quite a bit.”

“I’m a bit of a fan too.” A small smile tugs at my face.

His eyes darken, heavy with desire, as his hand slides into my hair, gripping me with a possessive force.

“Eat, moya l’vitsa...” His voice drops low, his breath hot against my ear. “Before I make a meal out of you.”

A breathy moan escapes my lips as my fingers curl around his bicep, the electricity between us undeniable. He lifts the spoon to my lips, feeding me from his bowl while his cock continues to press against me, sending waves of sensation through my body. Each bite feels more personal, more intense, charged with a raw energy that mirrors the way he looks at me.

The tension thickens, an electric current running through the space between us, drawing us in even tighter. His presence is suffocating in the best way, making it impossible to ignore the way my pulse quickens each time his fingers brush my skin or when his eyes lock on to mine.

He pulls back slightly, his voice turning raspy, almost teasing. “I bought you something for tonight. It’s hanging in our bedroom.”

My brow furrows. “What’s tonight?”