Page 40 of Tarnished Reign

I like his size, and I like that he makes me feel small. I relish the way his arms envelop me, and I’m engulfed by him.

It’s the safest and at the same time, the most feminine and vulnerable I’ve ever felt in my life.

This could be my new favorite place. In Dimitri’s arms.

As if my brain has decided that now that the pity party is over, she’s going to get interested in other things, I realize how my breasts are pressed against his lower chest. How his breathing is deep and regular. How his heart beats against my ear.

He’s so vital.

I lift my face, and he looks at me as his thumb raises to wipe one remaining errant tear away.

“Can I sleep in here if I stay on the sofa?” I ask. My voice is small. So pathetic.

“You can sleep in here with me. In the bed. I won’t touch you. Just in the future, don’t sneak up on me. I won’t touch you,” he repeats again, as if to convince himself too.

I almost blurt out, what if I want you to touch me, because I’m pretty certain that I do want him to.

My mouth stays firmly shut, thank goodness, because I’m clearly not in my right mind. I think I’m losing it. Losing any ability to make rational and reasonable decisions.

I can’t want this man.

He’s huge, scary, and hard, and certainly experienced in ways that I am not.

I’m naïve, and compared to him, so breakable.

I really don’t think my first time should be with an ex-soldier who is now an enforcer for the Russian mob. I need to find a guy who is more my own speed. Perhaps a librarian, or a researcher in a lab. The kind man who will take his time and put me at ease.

A man for who a difficult day at work doesn’t involve murder.

That’s what I need.

So why do I burn for the touch of the man settling beside me? Why do I long for the fire instead of wanting the gentle burn?

As Dimitri gets comfortable, on his back, and I carefully position myself next to him on my side facing away from him, I’m intensely aware of his heat.

I want that, I realize.

I want the inferno.

I want to be consumed.

God help me.

10

DIMITRI

I sleep for shit. I doze but keep waking up, intensely aware of Adriana next to me. The scent of her hair, her soft breathing, the curve of her ass and hips, visible even in the frankly criminally unsexy set of pajamas that Nataliya purchased for her.

Around six am, as the staff start moving about the yacht, I quietly reach for my phone and fire a text off to Janice.

Are you back at work yet?

It takes all but a minute for a reply.

Jesus, what time do you call this?

I smile.

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