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She blinked in confusion. “Yes...what?”
“Yes. I’m bored with you.” Sergei Grachyov’s tone was polite and detached.
Madeline whitened. “Excuse me?”
A brief smile still on his lips, Sergei murmured, “But it’s not your fault, Madeline.”
Madeline’s face tightened in rage.How dare he?Just as she opened her mouth to curse him, Sergei suddenly reached for her hand across the table—-
Heat, manifested in a single touch.
His fingers tightened around her, and Madeline swallowed, her rage turning into yearning in an instant.
So much strength and power in that grip, she thought hungrily. It reminded her of the way he had held on to her that night, not letting Madeline go even when she was begging him to stop because she couldn’t take any more of his wild, addictive lovemaking.
“Even if I’m bored with you, it’s nothing that you have to worry your pretty little head over.” As he spoke, Sergei’s thumb started moving over her knuckles, a feather-soft caress that had Madeline shuddering.
Oh, oh, oh.
God, he was so damn good at this, he made Madeline forget she had any kind of pride.
“Once we leave this place—-” Sergei’s heavily-lidded glance captured hers.
Ah.
She remembered the way he had loomed over her, his dark eyes drinking in the helpless ecstasy that had taken control of her as she came under him with a cry—-
“I’ll be able to fuck you the way we both want—-”
Madeline’s legs quickly pressed together under the table.
“And no one’s going to be bored then.”
Aaaah.
She gulped.
She melted.
She surrendered.
The Russian billionaire slowly let go of her hand, leaning back while his dark gaze remained on her. The way his eyes glittered was all too familiar. It was the way she looked at men she had wrapped devotedly around her little finger, men who would do anything for her.
The same way this boy could also make me do anything he wants, Madeline realized uneasily.
The old Madeline Carter would have grabbed the glass of wine on the table, tossed the contents on his face, and left the table.
But she couldn’t remember how to bethatMadeline, couldn’t even make herselfwantto leave him, knowing that if she did—-
She would never get to fuck him again.
After all, Sergei Grachyov didn’t do second chances.
The Russian billionaire’s phone suddenly rang, drawing his attention away from Madeline. He glanced at it and his dark brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, but I need to take this call.”
No!
Who do you think I am?
