Page 104 of Gemini Kings
“Besides,” I hear myself say, though I know I should keep silent, “this was never about him. Your father is not why I did it.”
“I knew it.” His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. “I fuckingknewit. Notwithstanding all your outraged sensibilities and your antiquated morals, you wanted Paolo for yourself.”
This is precisely why I should never have spoken. My alarmed gaze slews past him to the stairwell, but it is empty.
Thankfully, there is no one in this loft except the two of us to hear.
“Fuck, it’s true, it’s actually true!” he carols, poisonous with gleeful rancor. “I knew it. I fuckingknewit—”
“Vasili,” I say gruffly.
“What?” He scowls at me.
“Shut up.”
I know this is a mistake the moment I say it. The only commands Vasili Romanov ever tolerates are those he issues himself.
“Why?” He gloats. “It’s true, isn’t it? Little Maximka, the precious princeling of the swaggering Sagitarius clan, secretly likes the D—”
Truly, there is only one way to stop him from speaking these horrible truths, here in this public place where anyone can come along and hear.
I lunge up in my chair and seal my mouth to his.
A shocked exclamation spills out of him before our lips collide. He is utterly toxic, and his fangs are fatally sharp.
But fangs are erotic to a dragon.
And he has the softest lips.
His lip gloss tastes like cherries, tart and sweet, and I lick a long swipe over his astonished mouth before it occurs to him to stop me. He is still pinning my arms to the chair in a twinned vise I cannot break (because it turns out he is stronger than he looks). But I sweep my leg behind his to make his knees buckle. He spills into my lap with a muffled curse, which lets me deepen the kiss. My tongue plunges deep into his mouth, past those deadly fangs that inflame me so dangerously, to tangle with his in a dance we were always meant to share.
He is like kissing a demon, he is vicious and treacherous, but that is perfect for a dragon.
He is perfect.
He is even more perfect than I always dreamed he would be.
He is hissing and writhing on top of me, he is fighting to gather his legs under him, and this chair is in real danger of tipping, but I do not give a single shit. Let us fall. Let us splinter this chair to kindling. Let the whole world burn. God, let anything happen, as long as I can finally have this with him. I moan into his mouth and arch into his slim body.
My rut flames up with a blast of heat, fierce and savage. My dragon is roaring in my skin, provoked beyond bearing by this triggering proximity to another alpha. When alphas come together, either they fight or they fuck.
My dragon is an unrepentant primitive. And he, at this moment, demands both.
Lord, if Vasili would only do to me what he does to Ronin, and apparently also to Lucius, and probably even to that innocent-looking Neo. My cock is starving for his wicked touch. My thrusting pelvis collides against his.
And that moment of stolen contact sears me to the bone.
Behind his stylish trousers, my rival alpha is concealing a raging erection.
Saints of the northern steppes guard me.
He is as hot for me as I am hot for him.
Grunting in savage triumph, I pump against him in hard brutal snaps. Our cocks crash together through our trousers.
I swear if there is a God in Heaven, even if I burn in Hell for this, I will make him spill for me—
He releases my arms and wrenches free from my kiss with a gasp. I am already reaching for him, ready to rip every stitch of that proper prep school uniform from his maddeningly elusive body.
