Page 45 of Mikhail Petrov

“Not yet,” he replies with a devious smirk, then drops a fleeting kiss on my lips before flipping me over on my hands and knees. “Grab on to the headboard.”

I don’t hesitate and assume the position, back arched and ass up, desperate to be full of him. But again, he toes the line between life and death when he climbs off the bed and heads toward the window.

The sun has barely peaked the horizon, so the light filtering inside the room is minimal, but he closes the blackout curtains regardless, bathing us in shadows—except for the lights twinkling around my wrists.

And when I glance back, the blue light in my asshole glitters.

“Krasivyy.” (Beautiful.)

“You owe me for this,” I say, trying to suppress a smile.

Mikhail laughs, crawling in behind me, gripping my cheeks, and spreading them open.

“Fuck, Leah,” he growls as he tightens his hold.

“Yeah, yeah, your horny Christmas tree here needs to get fucked before you die, Mr. Petrov.”

He barks a laugh as his lips journey up my spine. “I’m taking this tight little hole, too,” he says, nudging the head of his cock against the butt plug.

“It’s yours, baby. Whenever you want it.” A moan rolls off my tongue as he pushes inside, spreading me open, the sensation deliciously painful. “I’m yours.” “Always mine. Moya krasavitsa.”

CHAPTER 22

MIKHAIL

Wet gravel crunches beneath the tires as we roll into a warehouse parking lot. The building is one of three locations frequently used by my men for shipments. It operates on a port under the guise of a spring factory.

The routine is ingrained in us: arrive early, park with an easy escape route, watch our six, wait, and wait some more. But today’s drop feels...off. A different type of energy permeates the air, heightening our anticipation.

I slide a gaze to Leah, who’s staring at my phone screen and flipping it every few breaths. She doesn’t seem nervous, but it’s obvious her mind is elsewhere. In this business, we need to check all of life’s issues at the door and be on alert and prepared for the unexpected. While this faction is known to me and my family, with countless transactions in the past, I’ll never let my guard down. And today rings true more than ever when my whole heart is sitting beside me, counting on me for a seamless drop so that we’re able to move on and face whatever lies ahead.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” I reassure her, taking her hand in mine.

She nods, eyes back on my phone.

“Should be a quick exchange if you want to stay in the car—”

Leah snaps her head in my direction. “Don’t do that, Mikhail. Not you.”

Reaching across the middle console, I stroke her cheek. “Moya lyubov’, it’s not what you’re thinking. I know you have a lot on your mind.”

“And I bet you have just the same on yours. I’m here for a reason, and I’ve done this before, Mikhail.”

“I have enemies.”

She narrows her brown eyes. “Liar.”

“That’s not a lie.”

“No, you lied about your reason for asking me to hang back. Bringing up your enemies solidifies that.”

“I love you, and I’m always going to worry about you, whether you’re here or at a goddamn grocery store. My family has enemies, just as sure as yours. You’re everything, pretty girl. You have no idea how many sacks of shit would love to exploit Emilio’s little gem.”

She opens her mouth in protest, but I shush her with a kiss. “Turned Mikhail Petrov’s wife.” A broad smile lights up her beautiful face.

“Did you marry me while I was sleeping too?”

I laugh and tug her toward me by her nape. “Don’t give me ideas. We can always fly back to Vegas and be married by dinner.”

---