Page 46 of Captured Solace

“Jesus Christ.”

Just then, our waiter appeared with the appetizers and I drew back, pretending I hadn’t just gotten him hard in the middle of a restaurant. He leaned forward to conceal his erection and shot me a look. When the waiter left, I moved my hand toward his lap and he snatched my wrist, stopping me.

“Be a good girl and behave yourself,” he ordered. “I promise, you can have every inch of it later.”

“I’m not sure I can take every inch,” I said lightly, surveying my dish. The food smelled incredible.

“I think you can,” he said. “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. It doesn’t have to hurt. I’ll use lube, give you a few orgasms to keep you relaxed.”

I hesitated. “My upbringing wasn’t as antiquated as some people’s, but it still involved a lot of outdated ideas about how sex should be for women. I grew up thinking that sex wasn’t for women’s enjoyment and it’s been hard to get that out of my head.”

He reached out and touched the side of my face. “What did they teach you sex was for?”

“For men’s pleasure,” I said slowly. “For making babies, for duty.”

“Sex is for pleasure, baby,” he said, his eyes cutting deep. “But for your pleasure too. I’ve never understood men who don’t care about their woman’s pleasure during sex, it seems like it would be a demoralizing experience for everyone. At the very least, it’s an enormous ego boost making a woman come.”

The waiter appeared again, cutting our conversation short. Viktor ordered steak, blue rare whatever that meant, and I got a Cornish hen and a second glass of wine. I sipped it, not wanting to get drunk before tonight, but needing something to keep me relaxed. Otherwise I would have to focus on the nerves fluttering in the bottom of my stomach.

Maybe I shouldn’t have seen him fully naked before tonight. If I was going in blind, perhaps I wouldn’t be so nervous about taking him. I shifted in my seat, my fork feeling a little slippery in my hand as I finished the last olive.

“Enjoy it?”

I nodded. “It was perfect. How was yours?”

“Excellent, but this hotel always is,” he said. “I’ve been coming here for a while and it never disappoints.”

“Sometimes I can’t figure you out,” I mused aloud. “I feel like you should love things about your home country, but it sounds like you spend most of your time here. Maybe you should move your business primarily to America.”

“My business is primarily here in the States,” he said, downing the rest of his drink and raising a hand to the waiter. “But I can’t shut it down fully overseas. Not that I haven’t thought about it.”

“You want to live here full time?”

“Since Yulia,” he said quietly. “But forget about that. Tonight isn’t about ghosts. Mine or yours.”

I nodded as the waiter appeared with a glass of vodka and our entrees. My Cornish hen was incredibly tender and drenched in white, buttery sauce with a side of spring vegetables. I chewed slowly, savoring every bit, and watched Viktor cut open his steak. It was rare, barely seared on the sides, and the inside almost bled as he speared it.

“That’s disgusting,” I mused.

“It’s the only way to eat steak,” he said. “I don’t mind a little blood now and then, adds flavor.”

He looked at me with that wolfish smirk, his pale eyes glittering, and put the steak in his mouth. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about and a hot flush blossomed up my throat.

“That’s gross,” I said quickly, tossing my hair back.

He cocked his head. “Is it? So when you’re horny and cramping, it wouldn’t feel good to have me go down…use my tongue to make you feel good.”

I squirmed in my seat. “Hush, at least whisper when you talk like that.”

“Please. With you in a dress like that, everyone knows I’m going to fuck you upstairs tonight.”

There was no tempering him, I could tell by the satisfied grin on his face as he finished his steak. I ate until I was almost full, not wanting to feel bloated. Then we sat across from each other, the air thick with crackling tension as we finished our drinks.

He set his glass aside and laid his napkin on the table. “Are you ready to go upstairs?”

My stomach flipped and I twisted my hands together as he circled the table and helped me to my feet. The waiter appeared at once, hovering on the other side of the table with his hands behind his back.

“Will there be anything else for you, sir?” he asked.

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