Page 28 of Shattered Crown

I sink back into my chair and signal the waiter for a whiskey. “That’s the mayor of fucking Moscow.” I spit.

“God help us all.” She pulls a face.

“I can’t stand him," I confess, swirling my wine. “Pyotr plays dirty. He's got incriminating info on almost everyone in this city. Uses blackmail, threats, whatever it takes to get what he wants. He’s not a man of honor.”

“Isn’t that a common tactic in business, politics, whatever?” Her eyes bounce over to where he’s holding court with a group of men.

I sigh, grateful that my whiskey has shown up. "True, it's common, but Pyotr takes it to another level. He doesn’t justplay dirty—he revels in it, using people's vulnerabilities to his advantage without any moral code. Even bad men like me have lines we don't cross, but he has no such boundaries."

She smiles tightly, her eyes hardening. “Really? You want to talk about boundaries? Should we call up Aly and ask her about your moral code?”

I gnash my teeth. Would Kira believe me if I said I acted in what I believed were my daughter’s best interests? Yes, my methods were shitty, but it was all in the name of protecting Alyona and giving her a better life.

“I did what I thought was best for her at the time,” I grit out. "But I don't want you anywhere near Rashnikov. He’s especially slimy when it comes to beautiful young women.”

She swallows and eases back in her chair, her eyes drifting to the mayor. "But you do business with him, right?”

“I can’t avoid it.”

“Then I suppose we can’t avoid his dinner.”

Her words give me pause. There's a note in her voice I can't quite place.

“We’ll see,” I say. “Now, put on your brightest smile. The paparazzi are waiting outside and require one more show.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MAXIM

My eyes popopen at five, as they’ve done nearly every morning of my life. But this morning, something is different.

The wall of pillows Kira constructed between us to avoid any contact has been kicked away, and her lush, perfect body is flung over mine. The silk tank top she wore to sleep has crept up her stomach and is showing off her every smooth curve, while her amazing tits are pressed against my arm, her leg hooked over one of mine. Dangerously close to my rapidly hardening cock.

Jesus fucking Christ, what did I do in a past life to deserve this sweet torture?

Or maybe the question should be: what did I do in this life?Plenty.

I’m sure she’s seeking out my warmth, and if she were to wake up like this she’d be horrified. She’d probably accuse me of knocking away the pillows between us—which is definitely not the case, but I’m not exactly scrambling away.

Truth is, this feels … nice. Having Kira soft and warm against me. Compliant. It’s been a week since we had dinner at Probka,and we’ve barely seen each other since then. Blame my busy schedule, or the fact that I fall into bed after she’s gone to sleep and wake up well before her, but our distance only heightens my awareness of her now. Which is why I need to get the hell out of my bed and on with the day.

Carefully, I slide out from under her, ensuring she remains undisturbed. I take one last look at her, feeling a pang in my chest. Asleep, Kira loses the fierce edge she carries during the day, her features softening and her expression calm. Quietly, I make my way to the bathroom for a shower, the image of her sleeping form lingering in my mind.

As soon as I step under the showerhead, all the lust brewing under my skin hits me like a ton of bricks. Damn,I can’t seem to make the shower cold enough, and I know the only thing that will take the edge off.

My hand reaches down and curls around my cock—swollen and thick for her. With one hand braced on the wall and cool water falling overhead, I stroke myself up and down a few times, thinking about Kira’s naked body the night after I doused her, chased, and demanded she change into my shirt. My command was meant to put her in her place, to show her that I would always have the power in this dynamic, and maybe that would have been the case if Kira had a demure bone in her body. But instead, she notched up her chin and held my gaze, fierce as a lioness as she stripped naked before my eyes.

Stroking myself, I imagine what would happen if that night had gone differently. If instead of allowing her to put on my shirt, I ripped the fabric from her hands and pushed her down onto her knees. Would she obey my command like she did when I made her take pleasure on my leg in the kitchen, or would she fight me? I’m not sure I’d care either way.

I picture gripping a handful of her hair, pulling her head back until I have her positioned perfectly, before I surge forward, burying my cock in her hot warm mouth.

“Look at me, Kira,” I’d demand. “Look at me while I fuck your mouth.”

The moment I picture her eyes locking with mine, a fiery blend of desire and anger dancing in her gaze, I can’t hold back. I crave her defiance as much as I crave her submission. With a silent roar, cum erupts, blasting all over my stomach.

I stand under the stream, catching my breath, wondering if I’ve officially lost my mind. Our arrangement is supposed to be nothing more than business. Chasing her around the house and making her strip in front of me was definitely not part of the deal. Neither is allowing her to curl up to me in her sleep, and Idefinitelyshouldn’t be jerking off to the thought of her choking on my cock. Yet here I am, breaking all my own rules.

After turning off the shower, I shave and get dressed in my usual black Armani suit, ready for what promises to be another busy day. I have to approve the final Romanée-Conti forgery, meet with international investors, and then do a photoshoot forSociety Magazine. With Kira.

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