Page 47 of Sweet Obsession
Almost.
My stomach twisted.
Nikolai’s eyes lingered on me, and he chuckled, clearly entertained by the display.
Viktor was less amused. He stepped closer, disregarding Misha’s body language.
His gaze lingered on me too long, his grin widening. “She’s more than just beautiful,” he said, his tone mocking, almost daring.
I stiffened, instinctively shrinking back.
Misha’s grip tightened on my waist.
“Kiss her, boss,” Viktor said, grinning cruelly. “You just said the both of you are happy. Prove it to us. Prove it’s not just business.”
The room stilled.
For a heartbeat, I thought Misha would refuse. That he would end Viktor’s life right then and there.
Instead, Misha turned his head, meeting my wide eyes with a look that held something darker than usual.
Without warning, without hesitation, he bent his head and kissed me.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was possession.
Hard. Dominant. Claiming. But not cruel.
His mouth crushed mine, stealing the breath from my lungs, knocking the ground out from under my feet. One hand cradled the back of my head, angling me exactly where he wanted. The other arm stayed firm around my waist, anchoring me to him, holding me hostage in the kiss.
I barely had time to react before his tongue slid into my mouth, teasing the seam of my lips.
A groan rumbled low in his chest, too real, too primal, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t entirely pretending. Neither was I.
My fists clenched in the front of his shirt, my nails biting into the fabric as if I could hold on to some semblance of control.
When he finally pulled away, I was shaking. Not from fear.
From the terrifying knowledge that, for a few seconds, I forgot this was all fake.
“Satisfied?” Misha said coolly, wiping his mouth with the pad of his thumb.
The two men chuckled, clearly buying the performance. But Misha’s eyes never left mine, his gaze was intense, searching me, as if he wanted to gauge the effect the kiss had on me. His breath was heavier than usual, and for a split second, I wondered if he, too, had lost himself in it.
Viktor and Nikolai left, the door closing behind them with a soft click.
As soon as they were gone, I yanked myself free from his hold.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded, voice hoarse.
Misha stared at me, impassive as always. “Keeping you alive.”
“By sticking your tongue down my throat?”
His voice was brutally calm, like he hadn’t just kissed me with a force that made my blood burn.
“Had to sell it,” he said flatly. “Would’ve smelled the lie if I didn’t.”
I hated him for it. But more than that, I hated myself for not pushing him away harder. It disgusted me, how easily he could break through my walls, how I could hate him and crave him in the same breath.
