Page 33 of Hostage with Benefits

A smile tugged at his lips. “Of course you do.”

“I keep working. Maybe not as much, but I don't want to lose that part of myself.”

He nodded. “Done.”

“And I want to know more about your business. Not everything; I'm not naïve enough to think that's possible. But enough that I'm not completely in the dark.”

He hesitated, then nodded again. “Within reason. But some things are safer for you not to know.”

He rose and came around the table, took the ring from the box then knelt beside my chair.

“Natalia Petrova,” he said, completely serious. “Will you marry me?”

I blinked in confusion. “I already said yes.”

“Humor me.” The smile playing at his lips softened.

“Yes, Mikhail Volkov. I will marry you, God help me.”

He slid the ring onto my finger, then pressed his lips to my knuckles just above it. The tenderness of it made my chest ache with love.

“From hostage to fiancée in less than two weeks,” I said, trying to lighten the moment before I did something embarrassing like cry or sayI love youback. “Is that some kind of record?”

“For me, certainly.” His glanced up, still kneeling, his hands warm around mine. “I've never kidnapped anyone who irritated me into falling in love before.” He rose, pulling me to my feet with him. His hands settled on my waist, drawing me closer. “Now, I believe this calls for a celebration.”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, though the heat in his eyes made his intentions clear.

His answer was to devour me more than kiss me.

When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs. His hands had slipped beneath my shirt, warm against my skin.

“Here?” I asked, glancing at the dining table. “What about?—“

“Everyone has the morning off. I made sure of it, remember?”

The thought of being fucked on the table where anyone might walk in despite his assurances, sent a thrill of arousal through me.

His hands moved to the buttons of my shirt, deftly undoing them. “Besides, you'll need to practice being quiet if you're going to be my wife. My business associates don't need to hear what I can do to you behind closed doors.”

“Confident,” I remarked, but my breath hitched as his fingers brushed against my collarbone.

“Not just confidence. I have experience to back it up now.” He pushed my shirt from my shoulders, his gaze darkening as it traveled over my body. “I now know exactly what makes you scream, Natalia. And I intend to use that knowledge thoroughly.”

He backed me against the table, lifting me to sit on the edge. Dishes clattered as he pushed them aside, making space for me to lie down. His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below my ear, making me gasp.

“Remember.” He nipped at my earlobe. “Be quiet.”

His hands made quick work of my remaining clothes, leaving me naked and exposed on the polished wood. He stayed fully dressed. But when he looked at me, what I saw in his eyes wasn't dominance but reverence.

“Beautiful,” he said softly, hands skimming up my thighs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” I agreed, the word still new and strange on my tongue.

He dropped to his knees between my legs, hands pushing my thighs apart. I was completely open to him, exposed and vulnerable. I bit my lip as his breath ghosted over my core.

Then his mouth was on me, hot and insistent. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.

His tongue found my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to drive me wild but not enough to make me cum.

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