Page 251 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“What are you going to give me for it?” The sexy deepness of his voice has my womb coiling tight.
Happy to return his tease, I raise myself to a kneeling position before dragging my tongue along my hungry lips. His pupils widen when he watches my tongue’s travels. As my teeth skim my lower lips, I drink in the very essence of the man, only pausing when I reach the impressive bulge his trousers are failing to conceal. Now, a caffeinated brew is the last thing on my mind.
Growling, Isaac hands me the cup of coffee. “You play dirty.”
I smile. “Says the guy who wakes up every morning looking like sex-on-a-stick.” I take a sip of the coffee, burning my tongue with its scorching heat. The twinge of pain subdues the roaring chant of my inner vixen who’s loving our flirty banter.
“Sex-on-a-stick?” Isaac asks, muffling a chuckle.
“Uh-huh.” I place the boiling coffee on a wheeled table to cool before adjusting my position so we come face to face. “Regina called you sex-on-a-stick a few weeks ago. The nickname stuck,” I say with a shrug. “Even she couldn’t deny your sex appeal, and her idea of a perfect man is a tall, balding Russian with a heart bigger than his ginormous head.”
My Uncle Tobias was the very essence of a giant Russian teddy bear. His shoulders were nearly as wide as he was tall. He was thick, tall, and as bald as a badger, but he had the largest grin I’d ever seen and the softest pair of eyes. It was his nurturing eyes that secured my trust. Even though most men feared him, I craved his attention because under his rough appearance, he had the eyes of a gentle man. Just like Isaac.
“But there was no otherdruzhokfor her.”
“Druzhok?” Isaac questions, puzzled
“It means boyfriend in Russian.”
I press my lips to his before licking the seam of his mouth, requesting him to accept my kiss. His lips taste minty with a slight hint of the chocolate powder they sprinkle on freshly brewed coffee, but they fail to open. He’d rather talk—dammit!
“You speak Russian?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Not really. My Uncle Tobias and hisDedushkaspoke fluent Russian, so I learned a handful of phrases, but nothing overly useful. My unclealwayssaid I wasn’t allowed to have adruzhokuntil I was thirty, so that word is easy for me to remember.”
Isaac smirks a delicious smile that has my pussy throbbing. “Does that mean I have to wait another five years before I can become yourdruzhok?” His tone is serious even though his eyes are glistening with lust.
I smile over his hideous pronunciation of the word before nodding. “Well, four years and eight months, give or take a few days, but who’s counting?”
My playful banter immediately dissipates when he asks, “What’s the word for husband in Russian?”
I swallow, eradicating the large lump suddenly lodged in my throat. “Muzh.”
“Muzh?” When I timidly nod, Isaac cups my cheeks with his large hands then stares into my eyes. “Did your uncle instill any rules on when you were allowed to have amuzh?”
My breathing stills as my mouth becomes ajar. “No, but you normally have adruzhokbefore you have amuzh.”
Isaac shrugs as his lips twist. “Minor details.”
I arch my brow. “Are youaskingme something?”
His lips curl into a panty-moistening smile. “No, Isabelle.”
I release the breath I'm holding in as my normal heart rhythm returns. I love Isaac, but talking marriage this soon is beyond ridiculous.
“Yet,” he continues.
My eyes snap to his.
“You’ll have no doubt when I ask you to become my wife.” He presses his lips to the shell of my ear. “Just like you had no doubt the first time I fucked you.”
Oh god.
His teeth tug on my earlobe, sparking a cluster of pleasure to race through my body. When his tongue lashes the wound, soothing the sting of his bite, a noise erupts from my throat I’ve never heard before. It’s a cross between a meow and a purr. It’s deep, throaty, and brimming with yearning like a female version of Isaac’s sexy-as-sin growl.
He places a trail of nips and kisses along my jawline before searing my lips with a heated kiss. If he asks me to marry him after kissing me like he just did, I won’t have a chance in hell of denying his request.
Our make-out session—which to my dismay, never goes over a PG rating—is interrupted when my hospital door creaks open. I peer toward the door, expecting to see Dr. Jae since she said I'd be discharged this morning. I'm surprised, but happy when I notice Hunter and Regan.
