Page 35 of King’s Promise

Damn, does he always have to be right? He has an eye for everything.

The shopping spree turned out to be more fun than expected. I never dreamed I’d be making purchases in the luxury stores I’ve only dreamed about. The only reason I know the designers is because I love observing movie stars, fashion magazines and the people who walk the red carpet events on TV.

The wedding dress is something I never imagined I’d be wearing. I hoped I would marry a man who loved me, and now that’s shot to shit. I’m exhausted by the time we return home. I’m in the middle of hanging up my new dresses when my phone dings.

Nikolay wants me to wear a fitted dress he picked out today along with heels. No panties! What is he up to? It’s not exactly how I was raised. Does he have a fetish for heels, for feet? No panties imply we’re having more than just dinner. My heart lurches at the possibilities.

I do as I’m told and get dressed. I don’t have to compromise my pride to fulfill his request. My hair looks amazing, and I run my fingers through it as my silky tresses give way with little resistance. I marvel at what a deep conditioning and trim can do.

Walking down the stairs I hold the railing and hope to God I don’t break my neck in these new heels. I’m surprised to find Nikolay waiting for me at the bottom of the steps as if he timed it. He’s scary like that. I wonder if he has hidden doors in this mansion with the way he moves about, walking as quietly as a cat.

“Anya.” He takes my hand as I stop in front of him. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, and it goes with my light blue dress. I have no idea what fabric it’s made of, but I like the way it hugs my body. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look handsome. Thank you for today.”

“My pleasure.” He escorts me to the dining room table and pulls out my chair before hanging his jacket on the back of his.

Hazel brings us steaks cooked to perfection and thick cut fries.

“This is so much food,” I exclaim.

“You can afford to eat more.”

“By the way, my sister wants to make sure you’re not angry with her, about the other night.”

“At the time I was angry with both of you, but we got to you in time. I don’t know what I would have done had we not…” He pauses, waiting for me to say something. I meet his gaze, and for a second, I catch a softer, almost caring, look on his face, before it disappears, and I wonder if I imagined it.

“Yes, it would have ruined the surprise wedding,” I comment, deflecting what could have been an intimate moment had he not blown it. I’m not his number one priority. Saving the organization and making it bigger and better is what his family wants. I’m merely the conduit in which he will accomplish it.

“It’s more than that, you are mine. No one dares to touch you, look at you or speak to you in any tone which I consider offensive.”

I blink, startled by his sudden passion over my well-being. Does he care for me? Or is this another way for him to dictate my life?

I have nothing to say and eat another bite of steak. Nikolay is wearing a white dress shirt and I notice his cufflinks. It looks like his initials, set in solid gold. I don’t think I can afford real gold for his wedding gift. He has spent so much on me I thought a present of some kind would be nice on our wedding day.

Nikolay pours more wine for us. I take a few sips at a time, suddenly nervous under his scrutiny. The familiar smell of him, one which reminds me of my childhood, fills the space between us. It’s as if he’s familiar, only I don’t know why.

The wine glides down my throat, I swallow hard, the room is too hot. I want to run, or rip off my clothes, rather than admit it’s him who is driving me crazy with lustful thoughts. My pussy is wet, and I hope I don’t ruin the dress.

He reads me like a book, turning page after page, knowing what he’ll find on each one. Instinctively, he places a hand on my leg, then trails his fingers up my leg. I want to clamp them closed, anticipating where he’s going with them from my experience in the dressing room.

I drop my fork; it clatters to the china plate laced with gold trim. I clutch the dining room tablecloth with both hands as if it will save me from his advances. I can’t fall for him. He’ll treat me like my father. I’ll be giving up all of me if I let him in—in my pussy, my head, or my heart.

Doom looms as I know I can’t resist him when his fingers play with me. Here, in the dining room, where Hazel could walk in at any second. It’s a turn on, and he’s pushing my limits to break me.

I stifle a moan with my lips, but it’s useless. The guttural sounds coming from my mouth are stifled moans of pleasure, and he’s experienced enough to discern this. He continues to finger me, turning his body towards mine as his lips claim my painted lips. I secretly breathe him in, he’s intoxicating. Possessive, demanding, and emotionally unavailable.

Damn if it doesn’t make me desire him more. I long to erase the creases on his forehead after his meetings with Pavel. I assume he is plagued by tough decisions and stress to keep the organization bringing in money without exposing the Bratva. He’s a criminal, and I’m falling for him. I hate my body for betraying me.

“Does this feel good?” he coos, his warm breath on my ear and neck sending shivers up my spine. His moist tongue trails up my neck and circles my inner ear. His teeth nip at my earlobe, under the pearl earrings Papa gave me on my sixteenth birthday.

I gasp air as I wiggle in my chair trying to satiate the burning need between my thighs.

“Tell me you want me,” his hisses before delivering a trail of kisses all the way down to the top of my dress, then pushing lower as he moves my lacy push up bra, and dips inside to lick a nipple which causes me to shudder.

“No.” I push the word out quickly, knowing it’s a lie.

“You want me, admit it,” he taunts me.

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