Page 112 of Gilded in Blood

She stirs again, slowly opening her eyes. “Kirill?”

“I’m here,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

With a sleepy voice, she asks, “How did the meeting with my brothers go?”

“Everything went well,” I murmur. “Everything is on track. We’re going to see Ivan tomorrow.”

She hums softly, then stirs again, pressing a kiss to my neck. “I’m so glad we’re safe.”

“Me too,” I say, kissing her forehead, then her lips.

She drifts off with her head on my chest, one leg thrown over my waist. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. Exhaustion finally takes over, and I fall asleep too.

The chiming of my phone on the nightstand wakes me. I reach for it, groggy, and feel Milana stir beside me.

“Who is it?” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

I open the message. Blood drains from my face the second I see it. It’s a picture of us at the club in Manchester. Me dancing with Milana, the look on my face unmistakable.

Underneath it, a message from Michael: For a second, I almost believed you when you said you didn’t care about the Morozov girl. If you wanted to keep selling that story, you shouldn’t have looked so smitten with her at the club. You’ve been taking me for a fool, Kirill. Now I’m going to show you what happens when someone messes with me.

I close the message quickly, but Milana has already peeped over my shoulder. I see the fear flash across her face.

I turn to her, cupping her face with both hands. “Don’t be scared. Michael can’t get to you. I won’t let him.”

She starts panicking, voice rising. “What if he does? What if he hurts my family? Now he knows we’re really together.”

“Calm down,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Michael will not succeed. We’re going to get him before he gets us.”

But she’s too worked up. She keeps tossing and turning in bed, unable to settle. I pull her into my arms, holding her still against my chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just can’t stop thinking about all the possibilities. What if he succeeds?”

I kiss her forehead. “Stop worrying. Michael isn’t going to succeed.”

She still can’t relax. I glance at the clock. It’s past two. We both need to be up soon.

I pull her closer and kiss her deeply, pouring everything I feel into it. The need to protect her, the fear of losing her, the love I’m still learning how to name. She melts into me, kissing me back, her hands clutching my shoulders.

As I kiss her, I shift our positions so I’m on top, my body covering hers. My hands roam over her, sliding under the nightgown she’s wearing.

She’s bare underneath, just the way I love. I slip a finger inside her, finding her already wet. She gasps into my mouth as I start working her, curling my finger just right.

Soon she’s moaning, but I swallow every sound with my kiss, deepening it as I slide a second finger inside her. I fuck her with them, steady and deep, the obscene wet sounds of her pussy filling the bedroom.

She’s so responsive, so perfect, bucking against my hand, chasing the pleasure I’m giving her.

I slip my fingers out and bring them to her mouth. She takes them greedily, sucking and licking, eyes locked on mine. Then I kiss her again, tasting both of her on her tongue.

I help her out of her nightgown, and stare deeply into her eyes as I slowly slide into her. She lets out a cry that I swallow with another kiss, her walls gripping me tight as I fill her completely.

I start moving, slow and deep at first, savoring the way she feels around me. “I'll keep you safe,” I groan against her lips. “Do you trust me to do that?”

“Yes…” she whimpers against my lips.

I pull all the way out and slam back in. “You're mine. No one is taking you away from me.”

“Oh… yes… Kirill…”