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Then Kirill bends down and presses his lips to mine.
The same jolt of electricity I felt in the hallway rushes through me, but this kiss is nothing like that one. It is thoughtful and measured. Kirill is completely under control of himself and his movements. It makes this moment feel all the more dangerous. If Kirill rocked my world when he was acting on pure instinct, how much easier will it be for him to tear down my walls when he’s being strategic about it?
I pull away from him, desperate to catch my breath. “We’re in the middle of a party.”
His lips don’t hesitate. He trails his mouth down my neck, already working the collar of my uniform open to expose my chest. “No. We’re in the kitchen.”
“Well, anyone could walk in here!”
“They won’t.” His tongue flickers over my collarbone. “But while we’re at it, list your other concerns.”
“Too many to mention,” I admit.
“I’m not surprised. You always have something to say.”
“Hey!” I lightly slap his chest, but Kirill catches my hand and drags it around his neck. His hair is pure silk, dark and thick and impossible not to touch. If it was possible to combust from sheer sexuality, I’d be on fire right now. I run my fingers through the curls at the back of his neck.
A satisfied growl rumbles through Kirill’s chest. “See how nice things can be when you listen and do what I ask?”
“See how quickly you ruin things by trying to control me?” I snap.
I try to shove against his chest again, but he grabs my wrists and straightens my arms above my head. Somehow, he manages to lift me onto the island while keeping me immobile.
His hips press forward, and my legs part on instinct. I take him in until I feel the hard length of him against my inner thigh. My body clenches with the promise of taking him in even deeper.
“This is what me controlling you looks like,” he says against my earlobe. “Am I ruining things?”
He’s ruining my self control. Does that count?
“You need to learn that you don’t always have to be in control to get what you want.”
Before Kirill can argue, I arch my back and roll my hips against him. He groans, unintentionally loosening his hold on my wrist. I use the opportunity to break free and slide one hand around his neck, the other down the chiseled plane of his abs. With the flick of my fingers, I unbutton his pants and slide my hand inside.
“Someone is learning to play dirty,” he breathes. His eyes fall closed as I wrap my hand around him.
I smirk. “I’ve learned from the best.”
I stroke him between the heat of our bodies, forgetting with every stroke what I’m even playing for. Isn’t this the prize? We both want this. Why can’t we just take it? Why does it have to be so complicated?
“You’re mine, Rayne,” Kirill whispers.
I look up and he’s staring straight into my eyes. His pupils are blown wide with lust, but his voice is even.
Ah, right. That’s why.
His stubbled cheek caresses mine. He nips at my ear, and I can’t bring myself to be as angry as I want to be. Not when the woodsy scent of him is wrapped around me. Not when I’m drowning in his body heat.
I want so badly to buck against him and tell him he’s wrong, I’m not his, I’ll never be his. But the pool of liquid heat sitting low in my belly fires hotter and hotter every time he says that.
He dispenses with my slacks, then slides his hand between us and cups my pussy. When his finger smooths across my opening, I can’t bite back my gasp.
“You hate it so much when I say that, don’t you?” he croons in my ear. “You don’t want to be mine. But you love it. You crave it. You’re soaking fucking wet for it.”
He works my panties to the side and slips his finger into me up to the second knuckle. Immediately, I’m out of my mind with desire. I rock my hips against his hand and press my lips to his ear. “More. Please, God, more.”
Kirill listens. He slips a second finger into me, and I can’t find it within myself to be self-conscious or worried about who may burst in. The only thing that exists right now is the two of us.
“You think it’s about making you into some inanimate object I use to get off with. But I could announce I’m looking for a willing woman to fuck, and I’d have a line at my door within the hour,” Kirill says.
