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But will they keep changing?
“Galina.” My name rolls off his tongue like a blessing. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not!”
He pulls me against him, ending my ability to utter a single sound.
“Because you might.” His voice is thick, heavy. “After this.”
Smooth lips skid across mine like a stone on a pond. And like a stone, once tossed, it’s freed from his control. It creates ripples through me from my tongue to my throat to the bottom of my heart.
I seize up as Arsen kisses me. He’s still holding onto my wrist as my pulse quickens against his warm touch. The fingers on my opposite hand curl inward, nails making half-moons in my palms. Pressure builds as the moment goes on. My lips part to allow him in further. Arsen’s teeth graze my bottom lip. The scent of aftershave fills my nose, tempting me to lean in closer to him.
I’ve been kissed before. But never like this.
A light moan slips out of me. His actions are stirring awake my eagerness, inspiring me to get on my toes. I want to climb the tower that is Arsen Isakov. My fervor catches me by surprise; I’ve never been overcome by such carnality. My skin is vibrating. Each swish of his tongue against mine is cruel, because I fear he might stop at any moment.
And I never want this moment to end.
My breath hitches hard in my chest, sending me forward. That motion presses my ribs out, and my breasts press against his firm torso. Hot air shudders from Arsen’s mouth before he gently guides me away from him, but not before his lips nip at mine in one last, reluctant parting. The kiss is over, the gap between us a mere foot, but it feels like a mile.
He’s done. I don’t want to be done.
“We should stop,” he says solemnly.
“Why?” I ask, sounding like a petulant child robbed of a sweet treat.
He smirks openly. “My future wife is a greedy one.”
Shrugging from his grasp, I rub my arm gently, feeling where his hand just was. “If you’re already regretting kissing me?—”
“No. I’d never.”
I jump from how harshly he says it. “Then why?”
He glances at the kitchen door meaningfully. “Because we have an eavesdropper. I’m not the type who performs for a crowd.”
Wondering who he means, I stare over my shoulder. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Stay here, Galina.” He walks by me, letting me enjoy another whiff of his delicious scent. I’m giddy with the rush of what we just did. Kissing Arsen is like kissing a landmine. He can destroy me in a blink, but the danger of it brings a low-burning excitement that turns my inner thighs slick. But with each step he takes away from me, the burning excitement smolders until only wisps of shame remain curling up into the air like the dying memories of a fire.
I’m not supposed to kiss him, I remind myself. This isn’t supposed to be real.
But as I watch his broad back vanish through the door, I can’t help but wonder when he’ll kiss me again.
17
ARSEN
Ulyana is standing at the end of the hall. She’s facing a painting, pretending to study the swirling brushstrokes that create the colorful grapevines.
“There she is,” I say. “The little spy herself.”
“I was doing what you did before, overhearing.”
I scoff at her bravado. “It’s good that I did.”
Ulyana turns toward me, her face emotionless. “Oh?”
