Page 22 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

I wasn’t suited for this damn roller coaster, and I wanted off.

“Thanks,” I squeaked as he handed me my glass and clinked it with his.

“We’re sure to get that contract,” he said. “We’ll make tons of money with this, and it was all your brilliant idea.”

That might have been amazing to hear in any other context, but there was no ‘we’ in this equation. Something about his smile kept making me forget he was a ruthless enemy. Just two minutes ago, I thought he was going to lock me up underground, not toast my achievements.

Taking a sip of the delicious champagne, I forced myself to relax. I had worked damn hard on that presentation, losing sleep doing the research and crunching the numbers. Why notallow myself to ride high on the success for a little bit? After draining my glass, I held it out for Arkadi to refill.

“Let me keep up,” he said with a laugh as he gulped down his own glass like it was the cheap grocery store stuff. “Good, isn’t it?”

That was an understatement, but it wasn’t just the taste that kept me pouring it down my throat. The fizzy bubbles went straight to my head to blot out thoughts of what came next. I didn’t want to think about it at all, not when he was still smiling at me in this cozy cellar. Not when his dark eyes kept resting on my lips every time I took a sip.

Or was that me, watching intently every time he raised his glass, remembering how I was transported every time he kissed me? Only two times, but enough to rattle me. Enough to have me craving more.

With the touch of a remote, loud, rocking music nearly deafened me. He instantly changed it to something soft and jazzy, more in tune with the space.

“Much better,” I said.

“Seems we agree on one thing.”

“Maybe the only thing,” I said, returning his smile against my will.

“We both prefer our espresso sweet,” he said, topping up my third glass of champagne. At this rate, he would have to open another bottle. “And you went straight for the chocolate pastry this morning, before I could take it.”

“Who would have thought someone like you had a sweet tooth,” I said, finding myself leaning toward him.

I was relieved when he chose to sit in the armchair instead of next to me on the couch. Now I was wondering why he’d made such a bad choice because he was miles away.

“Someone like me?” he asked, brow raised.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

He chuckled. The deep bass rumble went straight to my bones, making heat pool in my core. “Only someone like you would understand,” he said.

“Now you have to tell me what you mean by that,” I demanded.

His eyes moved down my body and back up again, warming every inch in the cool room. “Gorgeous,” he said. “Surprising. Fierce. Fucking perfect.”

Well, I wasn’t expecting that, and was lost for words. We stared at each other for a long time in silence. Was he also wondering if my lips would taste like sugary espresso or like the champagne we were soaking up like sponges?

I had to get out of there before I did something stupid. Something there was no returning from. I had to get somewhere I could remember who Arkadi was, not this charming figment of my imagination that I had conjured. Or who the champagne had brought to life.

Breaking away from his gaze, I stood up, wobbling on legs that had been turned to jelly from his heated looks and all that bubbly. Before I could stumble into the glass coffee table, he was up and catching me. His steadying hands burned through my clothes, which had fit perfectly but not felt too tight until now.

He was going to kiss me again. Good. No, not good. Not without me having any say in the matter. “There’s not going to be any honeymoon,” I reminded him, shoving away.

He let me go, eyes narrowing and pinning me in place despite no longer being in his grasp. “Yes, yes, you’d rather die.”

“That’s right, that’s exactly what I said,” I told him defiantly while remaining where I was.

Once again, he moved forward, closing the tiny gap between us. “And I still don’t believe you.”

His mouth crashed down on mine. All thoughts flew like birds after a gunshot. At the same moment, his hand tangled in my hair to tug my head back, I gripped his shoulders, pulling myself even closer. We fell onto the couch, and he rolled so that I was on top of him, his hands roaming over the curve of my backside. The snug straight skirt had me trapped until he yanked it up around my hips, his fingers delving beneath the edge of my panties.

I gasped and straddled him, pushing against the thick bulge that pulsed beneath me, hard and huge. Shoving myself away from his fevered kiss, I planted my hands on his chest and just looked down at him for a second. He took me in, his eyes dropping to the neckline of my blouse. Moving his hands from my thighs, he slid his palms up my sides and slowly began undoing the buttons.

Arkadi was undressing me, his eyes intent on what lay beneath my clothes, and my reaction was to writhe against that thick shaft that pressed between my legs. I ground against him until he groaned. Giving up on patience, he tore my blouse open, sending buttons pinging onto the coffee table and over the edge of the couch.

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