Page 61 of Dark Promise

“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice low and even, though I can feel the tension humming in her frame. She lets meguide her through the hall, away from the cacophony of the gala, her hand warm in mine.

“Somewhere we can talk,” I reply, my voice steady but laced with the fire she stirs in me.

The hallway outside the ballroom is quieter, the sounds of the party growing muted and distant. I open a door to a small, elegantly appointed office tucked away just off the main corridor. A leather couch dominates one side of the room, a sleek glass desk on the other. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the glowing cityscape, their reflections glimmering like distant stars. I step inside and lock the door behind us with a decisive click.

She raises a brow at the sound. “Planning to interrogate me?” she teases, though the tremor in her voice betrays her calm exterior.

“No,” I say, turning to face her. “But we do need to talk.”

She crosses her arms, the movement plumping her gorgeous tits, pushing them together in the deep neckline of her dress, almost baring her nipples. I want to feel those perfect, full handfuls in my palms, lick her, suck her nipples, make her moan and arch. Instead, I force my gaze back to hers.

She watches me, her full lips tilted in a secret, feminine smile. She knows exactly where my thoughts have wandered.

“Chasing another man away from me so publicly—don’t you think that will get back to your father?” she asks.

I shrug, taking a step closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin. “It will.”

Her brow furrows. “And you’re not worried?”

“Everything is in place for what comes next.” I keep my tone measured. She doesn’t need to know the details—not yet. I won’t let her bear the weight of my plans or the danger they carry. “He’s already lost. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Her lips press into a thin line, frustration sparking in her eyes. “You could have told me you’d be here tonight. Or sent a warning. Anything.”

“I stayed away from you to keep you safe.” I close the distance between us, my hands finding her hips, pulling her closer. “But the second I saw you tonight...” I trail off, letting my gaze sweep over her. The sight of her is enough to weaken my resolve, to strip away the careful walls I’ve built around myself. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Sabina?”

Her breath catches, her hands finding my chest, splaying over the fabric of my shirt beneath my jacket. Her touch is electric, a shock that reverberates through my entire body.

“Then don’t stay away,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Stop pretending you can.”

I don’t hesitate. I pull her full against me and my lips crush hers, my hands gripping her waist. The kiss is raw, desperate, every ounce of restraint I’ve clung to over the past weeks unraveling in an instant. My mouth crushes hers, my tongue pushing past her lips as I take and give, making her gasp and moan. She melts into me, her body molding perfectly to mine as her hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer.

My hands slide to her ass, her perfect, gorgeous, round ass and I lift her, her legs coming around my waist, the high slit of her dress letting the material fall away. I deepen the kiss, demanding more, taking more, until I’m dizzy with the taste of her, my cock a throbbing ache, demanding release. When I finally pull back, it’s only to rest my forehead against hers, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I set her back on her feet, her dress falling back into place with a soft swish of silk.

“We should go back,” I murmur, though the words feel like ash in my mouth. I want to take her, fuck her, dominate her, ownher. But I force myself to remember where we are and who might be watching. “You’ll be missed.”

She doesn’t respond with words. Instead, her hands slide down my chest, slow and deliberate, a challenge in her darkening gaze. Her eyes are wide, pupils dark and dilated so only thin rims of pale blue iris surround them. Her lips are parted, her breath coming in shallow rasps. Her nipples are hard, delineated by the soft silk.

I can’t stop myself. I palm her breast, rub the pad of my thumb over her nipple through her dress. Her body arches into my touch. She’s so fucking perfect.

“Nikolai,” she whispers, a plea.

I slide my hand beneath the neckline of her dress, my palm against her naked breast. I catch her nipple and pinch, gently. She whimpers. I play with her, watching her face, enjoying the way her eyelids flutter closed, her head falls back as she stands perfectly still, allowing me to pinch and tease, to make her gasp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, reluctantly pulling my hand away.

Her eyes open and she meets my gaze, holding it for a long moment. And then she gives me a little shove, pushing me back toward the couch. Amused, I let her push me down until I’m sitting, expecting her to sit beside me.

Instead, she sinks to her knees in front of me, her movements deliberate and sure. My breath hitches, my body going taut as she looks up at me through dark, hooded eyes. My already rock hard cock twitches.

“Sabina,” I rasp, not sure what else I mean to say.

She looks up at me, her gorgeous mouth curved in a knowing smile. Her hands are deft as she undoes my pants and pulls my cock free. It juts forward, so fucking hard it hurts. Her fingers close around me and she runs the tip of her tongue over her lower lip, as if she’s savoring the anticipation.

I’ve imagined this—her kneeling before me, not because I demanded it, but because she chose to. The reality is infinitely better.

“Suck me,” I tell her.

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