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“This is your spot?” I ask. The surprise stops my fear for a moment.
“Well, not originally. I don’t know who planted the flowers or cleared the space of shrubs and weeds initially, but I found it last year and claimed it.”
I glance over at him and frown. “Someone must still come and clean the weeds,” I say.
“Da. But who? I asked the gardening staff, and they don’t come out here to the woods. Maybe it’s a ghost. Some student from days gone by who comes here and tends the garden in the woods in a lonely vigil.”
His words make me shiver.
Kirill turns and props himself up on one elbow as he watches me.
“You’re stunning like this,” he says.
I laugh. “What, all sweaty and hot?”
“Da.” He reaches over with his free hand and wipes his thumb under my left eye. “You have a lot of makeup on, but it has run.”
Oh, God, I bet I look awful. I didn’t clean my face before I went for a run, and I must have smeared wedding makeup all over me.
I sit up and wipe at my face, but Kirill grabs my hands. “Don’t. You look like you’ve been crying. It’s pretty.”
I stare at him. What a fucked-up thing to say.
I’m searching for an answer when he moves closer and cups my cheek and, as he looks at me intently, lowers his lips to mine.
Chapter 25
Mackenzie
Make him stop.
My internal alarm screams at me. This man scares me. He’s dangerous. I know as much, so why am I letting him kiss me?
I ought to push him off. Tell him no. Remind him I’m with Tino. Except…am I?
Tino probably doesn’t see us as anything serious.
My mind rushes through all these thoughts, but then there’s nothing but white noise as Kirill’s mouth presses down on mine.
He doesn’t kiss me the way Tino did, all aggression and heat. No, Kirill explores.
He surprises me because I’d have thought he’d be the roughest of the three. Instead, he gently increases the tempo of our kiss, until I’m panting for him. Like the frog in boiling water, he raises the temperature until it’s too late and I don’t realize that I’m already caught and cooked.
I’m held in place by his lips on mine. Mesmerized by his tongue brushing across my seam, asking for permission, before darting into my mouth and tasting when I give in.
He groans into the kiss, and the sound makes me moan in response. He breaks off the kiss to look at me for a long beat. I swear there is something close to wonder in his gaze. Maybe Kirill is deeper than I had believed.
Or perhaps he’s a player who knows exactly how to get a girl under his spell.
“God, you’re so pretty, Duchess. My kukla.”
“What?”
“My kukla. My doll. Did you like Tino touching you? Do you like me doing it more?”
Dom mentioned Tino, too. Nice to know he’s a kiss and tell kind of a guy—not.
I pull back slightly. “Will you tell the others about this, too?”
