Page 55 of Brazen King

To see the fierce, formidable woman she really is behind her facade.

I’ve sat across the table from her all evening, and yet, I haven’t gotten a glimpse of who I came here for.

The dining room door clicks closed behind Boris and the rest of our dinner party, and I turn my full attention to the striking beauty left behind.

“That dress suits you,” I say playfully rounding the table to approach Natasha as soon as we’re alone.

Fire ignites in Natasha’s gaze, and despite her incredibly flattering dress and heels, she’s out of her chair in a flash. I barely have time to catch sight of the steak knife in her hand. And she closes the distance between us with such agile speed, I have to take a step back in order to catch her wrist.

All the shy, gentleness from dinner vanishes in an instant, and a beautiful snarl consumes her face. Her ruby lips pull back to reveal her white teeth as she unleashes a long string of Russian expletives.

The knife I barely managed to stop from plunging into my neck drops from one hand to the other, and Natasha swipes out at me, forcing me to jump back.

A startled laugh bursts from me, and I quickly switch gears as I realize this has officially stopped being a polite dinner between adversaries.

“Is this really necessary?” I tease, smirking as I whip a chair from the table to use as a shield.

“I assure you that this whole facade isn’tactuallymy father’s version of negotiating. He wanted to leave us alone so I could finally kill you. You can’t possibly think that he will let you marry me just because you came waltzing into our home like you already own it.”

The bite in her tone catches me by surprise, and I wonder if this new wave of anger is Natasha stepping up her game. I’m more than willing to play. As we pause, Natasha looking for an opening as I wield the chair between us, I drop my voice low to ensure only she can hear me.

“Do you think your father would reconsider if he knew how many times I’ve fucked you?” I tease. “Or how well I do it?”

“Mudak!” she hisses, her temper flaring as she slashes out at me again.

I catch her blade with the bottom of the chair and twist, tossing the seat aside and taking the firmly wedged knife with it.

But Natasha doesn’t stop there. Despite the precarious heels she balances on and the natural constraint of her dress, she continues to come at me. Delivering a sharp elbow to the stomach, she nearly connects a fist with my chin.

I’m ready for her now, though, and I duck to the side before catching her arm and spinning her. The art clatters on the wall as I shove her against it, pinning her there with my body. And my cock aches with the arousal of being so close to her. Her body heat seeps through the fabric separating us, her sweet scent of amber and cinnamon calling to me.

And she glares up at me with a ferocity that makes me want to kiss the glare from her face.

“Does this count as an assassination attempt?” I tease as I keep her wrists pinned by her shoulders. “Are you ready to hold up your end of the bargain?”

I’m being an ass now. I know it. Arrogant and uncouth as I can be, I wouldn’t push our deal that far. Even I know to draw the line at having sex with a woman beneath her father’s roof. Still, I love winding Natasha up. Getting under her skin and watching her pride take the wheel.

“You wouldn’t dare fuck me in my father’s dining room,” she whispers, the vitriol dripping from her tone.

And I love the challenge she never fails to give me.

“No?” I tease, leaning in and relishing the feel of her breasts heaving against my chest.

My eyes flick down to her ruby lips. The color is dangerously inviting, boldly daring me to risk a kiss. And because I must havea death wish, I decide to toss my sense of self-preservation out the window beside us.

Closing the distance between us, I seal my lips over Natasha’s, claiming their soft fullness with a bold passion that steals the breath from her lungs. She stiffens, her muscles tensing against my body. And I throb to be inside her, to claim her here and now—even though I won’t.

And then, as she always does eventually, Natasha softens in my arms.

Melting against me, she stops fighting. Her breaths come faster as she squirms beneath me, her hips grinding forward as if to entice my cock to make an appearance. If we were anywhere but here, I wouldn’t hesitate.

But I can’t stop myself from stealing a little taste.

Cautiously, I release one of her wrists. And when she doesn’t lash out, I reach between us, daring to cup her velvet-clad breast. Something I’ve ached to do all night. The enticing cut of the red fabric cradles them so perfectly, they’ve been calling to me, creating the perfect amount of cleavage, just begging me to touch them.

And now that I can, it makes my pulse race. I can feel her heart beating hard and fast against my fingertips, the temperature of her body cranking up several degrees as she arches into me.

I squeeze, kneading the supple flesh, and Natasha gasps against my lips. I take the opportunity to deepen our kiss, stroking my tongue between her teeth.

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