Page 89 of Savage Reign

Her nails scrape along the sensitive cut of muscle just below my abs. She inches higher, her palm pressing against my stomach, tracing the ridges there as if she’s memorizing every dip and rise, testing my restraint.

My hips jerk involuntarily, pushing my cock to the back of her throat. Tears gather in her eyes, and she stills for a moment, breathing through her nose, adjusting to my size but not giving up.

“You’re doing so good, moya sladost.” My words sound tortured even to my own ears. “Are you going to swallow me down when I come for you?”

She gives a little nod of her head and widens her eyes. That’s all it takes for my cock to jerk in her mouth and for a flood of cum to erupt down her throat. She puts in the effort, drinking me down, giving as much as she takes, and damn if I don’t come undone right here.

She’s ruined me, this woman. And I don’t think there’s any way to come back.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

NIKOLAI

The city rollsby in flashes of gold and stone as the sun starts to lower over St. Petersburg’s ancient streets.

Sofiya leans her head against the window, her fingers pressed against the glass. We’ve just left the dance studio and are heading back to the estate.

“This city is beautiful.” She sighs. “It’s nice to see people out and about, enjoying themselves. Just living a normal life.”

Her words hit me like a jab to the ribs. I’ve kept her locked away for so long that even the simplest sights feel like a revelation to her. She glances back at me, her expression genuine, and something in my chest tightens.

“One day, I’ll give you a tour of the city.” One day. The words sound empty, even to my own ears. But she doesn’t push for reassurances or ask for a timeline. She just leans back against the seat and smiles softly.

“I’d like that.”

I glance out the window, then back at her, watching as her face lights up, taking in the world outside. What’s the point of ruling the city if I can’t share it with her?

I signal to let the car behind us—the one carrying my guards—know there’s been a change in plans. “Do you like ice cream?” I ask.

Her head tilts, a playful curve to her lips. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Want to try the best ice cream in the city?”

“Is it… safe? I mean, is it okay for us to be in public?”

Normally, I’d avoid crowded areas, but I have guards with me, and the look on her face is enough to make me take the risk. “It’ll be fine.”

I pull the car to a stop outside a tucked-away ice cream parlor with a bright green awning. It’s not flashy, just a small window and a few café tables where people are clustered, holding cones piled high.

When I park, I type out a quick text to Matvey, explaining the plan and telling them to stay close but make themselves scarce.

I come around the car, open Sofiya’s door, and help her out. I might be a criminal, but I’m still a gentleman in my own way. She smiles, bright and carefree, and whatever hesitation I felt fades immediately.

We step up to the counter, her eyes darting to the menu written in chalk on a board next to the window. “So many flavors. I don’t know what to choose.” Her teeth sink into her full bottom lip, drawing my attention. All I can think about is tugging it free and sucking it into my mouth.

“I’ve never had pistachio ice cream before,” she exclaims.

“That’s because pistachio ice cream is garbage.”

She frowns, narrowing her eyes. “You said this place has the best ice cream in the city.”

My lips quirk up. “It does. But that doesn’t mean pistachio is a flavor that should exist.”

She crosses her arms, tilting her head in mock offense. “I’ll take my chances. And just because you were so grumpy, I won’t be sharing with you.”

The vendor glances at me, his movements stiff, like he’s nervous. I tend to have that effect on people. “Give me a scoop of everything,” I tell him.

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