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He leans closer. “Because I won’t allow it.”
“Allow it?” I laugh. “You are so arrogant!”
“I am.” He grins.
“That’s not something to be proud of,” I point out, but he doesn’t look the least bit shamed.
“Taking care of my woman is something to be proud of,” he counters.
“Yes, but I’m notyourwoman.” I tap the tip of his nose with my finger, then reach for my drink. He easily takes it from my hand and puts it back down.
“That’s enough of that. You don’t handle your vodka well.”
“It probably has very little in it.”
He shakes his head. “Not if they made it right.”
“You’re also very bossy.” I sigh. It’s gotten a little warm up here, even with the light fall breeze.
He slides his hand along my jaw, cupping my face. “It’s time to go home.”
“But you haven’t even touched your charcuterie board.” Mine, however, is mostly just crumbs at this point. “Oh, and the spiced almonds.”
“What I want isn’t here,” he says, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Oh?” I blink. I think I might have drunk too fast. “What do you want then?”
He lowers his mouth over mine; his tongue traces my lip. “You, Pchelka, and it’s time you learn that you aremywoman.”
Avery
By the timewe get back to the penthouse, my head has completely cleared. It could be the cool breeze of the night air flowing through the open windows of his car or the espresso he handed me when I climbed into the front seat. The warm buzz that flowed through my body is gone, and now I’m just me again.
The penthouse is dark when we step out of the elevator, so Luka flips on the lights as we make our way down the long hall to the bedroom. My stomach twists into tighter knots with each click of my heels on the flooring. Every step makes the plug move just enough to remind me it’s there and what’s going to happen when we hit the bedroom.
Luka reaches the door first and throws it open for me, standing off to the side to let me enter first.
“Maybe we should have a drink first,” I say, coming to a stop at the doorway.
“We just did,” he points out.
“Yes, but maybe another.” I touch his arm, hoping I’m doing this flirting thing the right way. I’ve never been one of those girls that could charm her way out of a ticket.
“Are you afraid?”
I blink. “Of you? No.” I shake my head. “I mean I probably should be, but I’m not.”
He runs the back of his knuckles along my jaw. “You never have to be afraid of me, Pchelka.”
“Maybe I’m just nervous.” I wring my hands together.
He brushes his lips across mine. “I like you a little nervous,” he confesses. “Get inside, Pchelka. Take off your clothes. It’s time to make you mine, completely mine.”
I move to the bed, my steps silent against the lush carpeting. His eyes heat my skin as I kick off my shoes and then slither my way out of the dress. I glance over my shoulder to catch his expression. Starved. He looks absolutely starved. Once my bra slides down my arms and I toss it to the foot of the bed with the dress, I turn back around to face him.
“Get on the bed, Pchelka,” he orders while unbuttoning his cuffs. I stare at him, unable to take my eyes off his motions. The dark tattoos on his knuckles move as he undoes each pearl-white button of his shirt. Those fingers, those thick fingers have been inside me, making me feel unimaginable pleasure.
“You’re not moving, Pchelka.” He shucks the shirt and pulls his undershirt from behind his head. “Do you need incentive to be a good girl tonight?”
