Page 215 of Dark King Daddy

The way I sat with one foot tucked beneath me. The lift of my chin. My mouth caught just before a smile, as though he had said something I intended to challenge and we both knew I was enjoying it.

He had watched me closely enough to know that face.

“Well?” he asked.

I touched the clean margin.

“You’ve made me look very pleased with myself.”

“Art imitates life, I guess.”

I laughed, and his hand eased against my waist. Only then did I realize he had been waiting for my verdict with his whole body.

I bent and kissed his temple.

“I love it.”

“The hand is wrong.”

“A little.”

“And the shoulder.”

“You’re allowed to be a beginner.”

He looked up at me. I brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

“I mean it, Daniil. You don’t have to be good at everything by bedtime.”

His mouth softened. “That seems generous.”

“Tuesday, then. I expect greatness by Tuesday.”

He laughed and pulled me closer. I kissed him properly this time, and his hand tightened on my waist as his mouth opened beneath mine.

The kiss lasted long enough for me to forget what I’d intended to say next.

“The drawing,” he murmured when I leaned against the table.

I looked behind me. My elbow was an inch from the page.

“Already choosing your art over your wife.”

He moved the sketchbook out of reach.

“Problem solved.”

I kissed him again. My hand slipped down to his trousers, finding the hard length of him through the fabric. He drew in a breath, and the sound made me press closer.

“Come to bed,” I whispered.

“Gladly.”

He stood, keeping me against him. I could feel how much he wanted me. There was nothing distant or composed about the way he held me now, and I loved knowing I could do this to him.

“There’s something I want tonight.”

He drew back enough to see my face.