Page 30 of Kings of Cruelty

“You’re always talking about being adventurous,” Nikolai complains. “It’s not that I’m not adventurous. I’m not an adrenaline junkie, all right? But fine.” He lifts his chin in a stubborn set. “I guess if our zaya wants us to kiss, we’ll kiss.”

He grabs me by my newly cut, styled hair and pulls me in close.

I still have to close the distance between our lips. It’s different from kissing Kotya; Nikolai isn’t as tall or broad as he is, and there’s a lot less facial hair. If Nikolai shaved all the way, it might even be the same as kissing a woman.

Except Nikolai is tense against my lips, and he isn’t doing anything to deepen the kiss.

I let go of Sierra and put an arm around Nikolai as I run my tongue along the seam of his lips.

“You have to actually participate for it to count,” I whisper. “Right, Sierra?”

“Definitely.” Her voice is breathy, and she strokes Nikolai’s hair. “Come on, Nikolai,” she wheedles. “It’s not that bad, is it? Be honest.”

Nikolai grumbles against my mouth, but he turns the tables on me, plunging his tongue past my lips instead in a demanding kiss that it’s clear he wants to be a hundred percent in control of.

I groan and let him, bending under the onslaught. Sierra presses up against my side like she wants an even better view of the kiss.

One of them gets their fingers on my nipple, and my cock jumps to attention, brushing against Nikolai’s thigh.

Nikolai tenses, but he doesn’t pull away. He growls, his grip tightening on my hair as he assaults my mouth with his lips and tongue.

Only when we both need to breathe does he pull back, panting. “How’sthatfor adventurous?”

Sierra’s eyes are wide as she looks between us. “Well, it’s a nice start,” she says.

“Yeah.” I laugh and shake my head. “How about we don’t do this in the bathroom, though? I think my bed is large enough for all three of us.”

“Do we even need the bed?” Nikolai asks. “I mean, if Sierra gets on her knees…”

“That does not sound comfortable in the slightest,” she announces. Her voice is less certain when she says, “I’m pregnant, remember? I deserve comfort.”

I laugh and kiss her again. “Shouldn’t we do all the flexible things now, while you still can?”

But I don’t want to contort myself in this bathroom either, not to mention all the hair clippings still on the floor and the slight bleach smell that the ventilator hasn’t removed yet. I take Sierra’s hand and lead her out to my bedroom.

It isn’t a mess, but there’s clutter around. Most of it is related to motorcycles. I have a bookshelf filled with motorcycle manuals, as well as magazines. Some are in Russian, too, because it’s easy enough to order things from abroad these days.

Sierra stops in front of the shelf and stares at a small display case. “What’s this?”

I glance at the key inside. “Oh. That’s the key to my first ever bike.”

“See, Nikolai?” Sierra says without looking at him. “This is anormalcollection. Not a bunch of monsterfucking dildos.”

“But it’s not very adventurous,” Nikolai says smugly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I can’t wait to see you fuck one of them when you’re so hyped up on pregnancy hormones that?—”

She smacks him in the chest, turning back to me. “How old were you?” she asks me, directing my attention back to the case.

“When I got the bike?” I ask. It feels strange to have this conversation when I’m naked. “Ah, seventeen? Kotya helped me find a good deal and save up for it. But somebody destroyed it right before we left for America.” I fight not to grimace. “It doesn’t matter. I got a better bike here.”

She nods, reaching out to squeeze my arm. I can tell she wants to ask something else, probably something intimate, but she smirks instead. “Are you one of those guys who thinks a bike is sexier than a woman?”

I smirk back at her. “Aren’t you one of those women who gets hot when she’s got a machine rumbling between her legs?”

Sierra laughs. “You caught me.”

Nikolai is looking between the two of us with a strange expression, but when I look at him, he shrugs and glances back at the display case. “Aren’t there better things to do than to look at your motorcycle stuff?” he prompts.

“Sure. We can talk about how we’re going to stuff Sierra full.” I take Sierra’s hand again and pull her along to the bed. She shakes her head and pretends to fight me, but I can see her smile, too.

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