Page 12 of Lethal Queen

She leapt away, her hands up. “Don’t you dare!”

I would have shared some of the slobber if I hadn’t been immediately distracted by the drape of the deep purple velvet dress, the way it hugged her hips and skimmed her chest in averydeep V, only a sheer panel of fabric protecting her modesty. Matching sheer panels slid up the sides of the skirt, baring her thighs. My cock was hard enough to cut fucking diamond in a millisecond.

“Vasilisa. This dress on you is… insane.”

Her expression softened, her eyes bright. “Are you sure it’s not too much? I don’t look silly for wearing something so mature?”

“Fuck no. Do you like wearing it?”

She glanced away, her gaze falling on Sparrow, now making circles on our bed as she prepared to sleep. “I do. But I think sometimes I wear things Iwantto suit me, and I just look like I’m playing dress up.”

I closed the distance between us, sliding my hands over her hips and biting back a groan at the heat of her through the sheer side panels. “You decide what suits you, my queen.”

Her eyes narrowed with calculation. “You’re right. I make the rules.”

I kissed the spot between her eyes. “Always. And if you ever want to bring me to my knees again, this is a very good dress to wear while you do it.”

“You have a kneeling fetish,” she told me, matter of fact.

“I can’t help it if worshipping my queen is the most natural thing in the world.” I kissed her mouth next, grateful she hadn’t applied lipstick yet because I kissed her like an animal, like I was starving, and didn’t stop even when she shuddered and clutched at me, her hips writhing against my erection.

“Are you wet, my queen?” I asked, breathless when we finally parted.

She nodded fast, her eyes dark, pupils dilated.

“That’s my good girl. Then you’ll remember exactly who you belong to when we’re out.”

She gave me that fucking adorable look of horny outrage when I released her and stepped back.

“Don’t change the dress, Vasya. You look killer, andthatsuits you.”

She smiled, a soft private smile, her cheeks flush with warmth. “Alright. But you still need to tell me where we’re going. And do you really needthatmany knives?”

I knew her wandering hands would find them. “I do.”

“Even this one?” she asked, and held up a small dagger set with red enamel I knew had been tucked into my waistband at my back. A vicious throb went through my cock, and desire clashed with infatuation inside my chest, a hot, covetous emotion that brought a low sound to my throat.

“Even that one,” I agreed huskily.

“Hm.” She turned it over in her hand. “Then what will you give me for it?”

I raised an eyebrow, prowling back towards my wife. “What are your demands, my queen?”

She smiled, dangerous and slow. “Kneel, Saint.”

CHAPTER 7

VASILISA

“Amuseum!” I gasped, staring up at the pale-brick, elegant building on the banks of the Thames, my hand safely in Damien’s, Jonathan at our back, and too many black-clad guards around us to count. They weren’t trying to hide this time; they wanted to be seen. It was a warning and a statement. Damien wouldn’t let anyone hurt me again.

“A gallery,” he corrected, bringing the back of my hand to his mouth for a lingering kiss before he led me up the wide steps and into the vast gallery.

My heart beat fast, full of illicit excitement and giddy nerves. I hadn’t been to a gallery since I was a kid, but I remembered their immense halls full of jewel-toned walls, priceless paintings, and the heavy air of history.

I shot my husband a narrowed look. “We’re just visiting, right?”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “I didn’t buy it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

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