Page 39 of Caught By the Bratva Boss

“Yes, sir,” he says, quickly taking the keys and practically running to the damn car.

Mikhail turns to me and cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer. “Sweetheart, I hope you appreciate the restraint I’m using right now,” he murmurs against my lips. “It’s taking everything I have to not bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone, letting every single one of these damn fuckers know that you’re mine.”

Instead of thanking him for his restraint, I give his bottom lip a soft suck, letting my teeth graze his skin.

“You fucking little temptress,” he says with a smile. “Two can play at that game,zaichik.”

He grabs my hand and leads me to the door with a smug grin on his face. I have a feeling I’ve just gotten myself into a world of trouble. A beautiful redhead opens the doors for us, but Mikhail barely spares her a glance. His eyes are on me, and there’s promises of all kinds of sinful pleasure in them.

“Reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Fedorov,” he tells her while giving me a wink.

“Presumptuous,” I whisper, making him laugh.

He brings his hand to the back of my neck again, and I fucking love how he does that. It’s a possessive, territorial move that would normally set my teeth on edge, but I love it when he does it. His fingers brush my skin, sending a shiver through me and making my heart speed up even more. He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head before we follow the hostess to our table.

My eyes dart around, trying to take everything in. The lighting is low, the other diners impeccably dressed, and I can see all the women follow Mikhail with their eyes, but he’s oblivious to all of them. His powerful build attracts the eye, and when you add in the gorgeous face, well, I can’t blame women for drooling a bit over him.

When we get to a corner table by a wall of windows that look out over the lake, I try my best to not act like the country bumpkin cousin who’s just come to the damn city for the first time, but judging by the amused glint in Mikhail’s eyes, I’m not pulling off theI’m totally used to ritzy restaurantsact.

He pulls my chair out for me and whispers in my ear, “Everything about you is so damn perfect, baby.”

Instead of sitting opposite me, he takes the seat to my left, putting his back to the wall so he has a clear view of the restaurant. His dark eyes scan the crowd, and I can tell he’s taking in every damn detail.

“Have it all memorized yet?” I tease him.

He looks at me, and I see the Bratva boss in the man I love. “Yes,” he says calmly, and I don’t doubt him for a second.

The waitress starts walking toward us, and Mikhail says, “Do you trust me to order?”

“Yes,” I say, not even having to think about it. The menu is probably all in French or some shit anyway.

I sit back and happily hand over control to Mikhail who looks like he was born to take it. He orders who the hell knows what in what sounds like flawless French, and when the waitress walks off, I just stare at him with anare you fucking kidding me?look on my face.

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I had to learn it in school.”

Smiling, he leans closer and runs his finger over my necklace. I feel his bare skin against mine in between the diamonds, and it reminds me of how aroused I already am.

“It really does look beautiful on you.”

“I think it would look beautiful on anyone.”

I’m surprised when he looks hurt by my comment. “One day you’ll understand how beautiful you are.” A familiar wicked glint lights up his dark eyes. “Maybe I’ll start spanking you every time you put yourself down.” Pleased with this idea, he smiles and says, “That’s exactly what I’ll do.” He holds up a finger and gives me a wink. “One.”

Instead of being furious, I’m trying to think of a quick, snarky comment I can say to add to the tally. I finally settle on, “My boobs are too small, and I think my thighs are too big.”

His eyes narrow as he silently adds his middle and index finger to the mix. It’s only the memory of how sore my ass had been after my last spanking that keeps me from saying anything else. When he’s sure I’m going to keep quiet, he lowers his hand to my lap and slips it under my dress. He’s dragging his finger along my pussy when the waitress comes back with our wine. She pours our glasses while Mikhail slowly rubs my clit, making my face heat up in an obvious flush. He smirks at me and rubs me harder while I stubbornly keep my eyes glued to the table so I don’t accidentally make eye contact with the woman.

“Look at me,zaichik,” he murmurs.

I can feel his dark eyes on me, and when I hesitate, he gives my clit a hard enough pinch to make me gasp and look up before I can stop myself. The smirk on his face is equal parts annoying and arousing. I keep my eyes on his as he rubs my clit, and when the woman finally walks away, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“What are you doing?” I whisper at him, darting my eyes around the busy restaurant. Everyone else is focused on their own meals and conversation, but I see people occasionally look over at us. We’re a hard couple to miss, what with Mikhail looking so damn handsome in his suit and me wearing enough diamonds for a Tiffany’s window display.

“I’m about to make my fiancée come,” Mikhail says casually as he moves his hand to grip the bottom of my chair, slowly pulling me a bit closer to him. I stare wide-eyed when he slips the knife he always carries from his pocket, the one I’d ridiculously threatened to use to cut out my ass microchip, and opens it up.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” he says, giving me wink.

I watch the sharp blade in his hand, letting out a soft gasp when Mikhail very carefully slips the blade under my dress. My whole body is tense, knowing if I move, I’m going to end up with a nasty cut. With the softest flick of his wrist, I feel the new, black panties I’m wearing fall from my skin.

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