Page 58 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

A soft blush creeps up her cheeks, and she quickly looks away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin.

“Right away,” she says with a polite nod, taking note of our order before leaving us in the dimly lit, elegantly decorated dining room.

I lean back, crossing my arms as I regard her with a smirk. “I think you’re enjoying teasing me tonight. You’ve been playing this game all evening, and it’s not lost on me.”

Gwen’s lips part in a playful grin. “Nik, I would never.”

Her tone is light, almost innocent, but the glint in her eyes betrays her mischief. She tilts her head slightly, her voice dripping with faux sincerity. “I’m just here to enjoy the evening, and if I happen to catch your attention, well, that’s just a bonus.”

I lean in closer, my gaze locking onto hers with an intense, challenging look. “Oh, really? Because it seems to me like you’ve been deliberately pushing all my buttons tonight.”

Gwen’s smile widens, and she places a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Well, how could I not push your buttons when you look so cute when you’re annoyed?”

Her nose scrunches in that cute way that makes me want to make her do it again, just because I know that fake look of annoyance belongs solely to me.

I give her my deadest glare and she smiles poking my left cheek with the tip of her pointer finger. I playfully nip at her wrist, but before she can fully retract her arm, I grab her wrist and curl the edges of my mouth into a smile. “Moya lyubov,” I whisper against her soft flesh. “No one calls me cute.”

Her pulse beats faster against my lips, only making me smile more. Her breath comes out as a combination of snark and lust, all breathless and needy. “Maybe more people should. You are-”

“Handsome,” I correct before she can say cute again. “Sexy. Fine. All acceptable adjectives.”

“I was going to say you are full of yourself; let's add more adjectives for your minions to inflate your ego with, shall we?” She yanks her wrist out of my hand, her eyes trained on me. “Cute. Annoyed. Cocky. Asshole. I like the sound of those.”

“Kotik, you can call me whatever you want as long as you are mine.” I give her my best cocky grin, leaning back in my chair as I spread my lips into a winning smile.

Gwen rolls her eyes, covering her face with her opened menu. “You know just because you cum in someone doesn’t make them yours.”

“It does when I cum in you,” I counter, and she growls, peeking at me from over the top of the menu.

“Nik,” she scolds, keeping her eyes trained on the menu.

A waiter returns, expertly pouring two glasses of white wine before nestling the bottle into a sleek silver cooler beside our table. As he steps away, I shift closer, unable to take my eyes off Gwen as she lifts her glass to me. “A toast.” She smirks.

“To what, Kotik?” I tease and she purses her lips with a knowing smile.

“To you learning the difference between possession and affection,” she purrs, raising her glass to her lips with a cheshire grin.

I laugh deep in my chest as I raise my glass to hers. “Good luck with that, Kotik. You see, I prefer the kind of affection that leaves its mark.”

“Of course, you do,” she rolls her eyes as she whispers her words under her breath, and I pull my glass back slightly.

“Kotik, don’t make me teach you proper manners in this restaurant,” I growl, and her eyes narrow on me as her back arches into the table. She fidgets slightly in her seat, and I lean forward with my glass almost touching hers. “Now do you want to try to say your toast again?”

She gives me a tight smile as she speaks. “To stubborn men and the women too smart to fall for them.”

A scoff-like laugh leaves my lips as I tilt my glass to hers. Never break eye contact even as both take a sip. “Let me make an addendum.”

“You can’t change the toast after we’ve drank,” she teases, and I shrug.

“It’s just you and me we can bypass that,” I whisper in a low,husky voice. “Now I think we should toast to stubborn women who secretly love being chased.”

“I don’t like being chased.” She scowls as I lift my glass lazily in my hand and point it at her. She keeps her glass in her hand, but just out of reach of my glass.

“Kotik. You might fight me, and argue, and try to outrun me, but you know you can never really outrun me.” I drop my voice again and lean in. “And deep down you like that you can’t outrun me.”

I wink and watch as she tries to take a deep breath without me noticing. She looks away from me and her lips touch the rim, delicately, but a small droplet escapes, trailing down the corner of her mouth.

Without a second thought, I reach out, catching the droplet with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes widen slightly as I bring my thumb to my lips, tasting the wine that clings to my skin. The sweetness lingers, both from the wine and the subtle essence of her. I can’t help but smirk as her cheeks flush, a mixture of surprise and something else swirling in her gaze.

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