Page 189 of The Lazarov Bratva

Her words ring true, and I cup her cheek, then kiss her forehead lightly.

“August isn’t the only lucky one.” Hanging back slightly, I pull the box out from behind my back and offer it to her.

Alena’s eyes widen immediately, and her lips part in a soft gasp when she takes the box.

“Kristof, what is this?”

“Open it.”

She shoots me a sharp look, then she slowly opens the box. Pink flushes across her cheeks and warms her throat as the new collar comes into view. It’s platinum, encrusted with amber gemstones as vibrant as her eyes, and they sparkle sharply from the black velvet cushion it rests on.

“Kristof,” she gasps softly. “This is… this is beautiful!”

“Only the best for you.”

Alena runs her fingertips over the intricate, delicate platinum plates, then down to the chain. “Can you put it on me?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” I reply in a low voice.

Taking the collar from the box, Alena turns around then scoops up her hair and holds it out of the way. Kissing the slope of her shoulder, I drape the collar around her neck and lock it into place.

“This doubles as a necklace, but this chain here?” I tug gently on the loop chain at the back of her neck. “It then turns into a collar and leash for when I think you need a stronger hand.”

Alena spins to face me, her eyes shining, and she wraps her arm around my neck. Pulling me into a deep kiss, her entire body arches into me, and a soft sob brushes against my lips.

“It’s beautiful. I love it! Thank you, thank you! God, you think of everything.”

“It’s true.” I chuckle, caressing her cheek. “And in the event that the necklace is jerked in some way, the clasp will come undone to prevent injury.” I still remember, as clear as day, the marks left on her throat after the last necklace was dragged from her. That won’t happen again.

“Thank you.” She kisses me again, and I hold her close, enjoying her warmth and her touch.

“You’re absolutely welcome.”

“You know…” Alena leans back slightly and smirks softly. “This collar is nice and all, but don’t you think it would look even better with a matching ring? Wouldn’t it be nice if we ruled together, properly?”

A pulse of confusion worms through my chest, but before I can ask for clarification, a knock at the door pulls us apart.

“Alena?” Katja sticks her head around the door. “Your bath is run, complete with all the oils recommended by your doctor.”

“Oh, amazing! Kristof, join me after?” Alena breathes. She pecks me on the lips and slips away, and it’s not until the silence of the conservatory swarms around me that I get what she means.

Maybe it’s time I pop the question and secure our union. Alena and Kristof Lazarov-Orlova. Head of the Russian Bratva. It’s got a beautiful ring to it.

25

ALENA

“Do all of your meetings go like this?”

Our slow walk through the garden has ended up with Kristof’s hand up my shirt and his lips locked on my neck as he presses several hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat.

“Only the ones with you,” he murmurs, and his lips tickle the hollow of my throat as he speaks.

Sliding both hands into his hair, I moan softly in agreement. I’d like to take part in more meetings if that’s the case. We’d gone from debating baby names—creating a list for girls, boys, and gender neutral—to Kristof teaching me how he plans the shifts for the guards and the work they have to go through to ensure no one slips through the net. It wasn’t the most alluring talk, but the more Kristof emphasized keeping me and the baby safe, the more turned on I got.

His protective streak always gets me hot under the collar.

The bark of the tree presses roughly against my back, scraping slightly as Kristof kisses me deeper. My pulse races, and heat flushes across my skin like a burning touch as my core clenches in need.

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