43. Lev
Dinner is at a new restaurant in Manhattan, overlooking the river on one side and Central Park on the other.
Diners turn and look when we walk in, and for the first time in my life, I feel a sense of pride I have never felt before, and I know instantly why. Brooke. She’s stunning and I want them all to know this beautiful woman is with me. I take her hand possessively and tighten my fingers around hers, enjoying the smile that spreads across her luscious lips as we walk to our table. She glances at me, and I see the happiness sparkling in her eyes, and I know in that moment that I would do anything to keep it there.
“Walking into a room with you is like walking in with a rock star,” Brooke says after we’re seated and I’ve ordered a bottle of their best champagne. “You’re famous.”
“They weren’t looking at me—they were looking at you. You look beautiful.”
She smiles. “Why do you always know what to say? Do they pull you aside at pakhan college and teach you how to master the art of charm?”
I grin. “Of course, they do. And I was at the top of all my classes.”
“I can tell.” Her smile softens. “You look pretty good yourself.”
I wink. “I know.”
She chuckles. “There’s that Zarkov modesty.”
The waiter returns and pours our champagne.
I wait for him to leave and then take her hand. The one with the gigantic ice rink on it. It took me days to find the right ring for her. Hours of scanning different designer catalogs to find a ring fit for the fiancée of a pakhan. I chose this one because it was the best of the best, and I knew it would look good on her delicate finger.
“It looks good on you,” I say.
“This old thing?” She wiggles her finger, and a thousand spangles of light dance on the diamond.
I hold up my glass of champagne. “A toast to my fiancée.”
She lifts hers, and we clink the crystal together. I watch her take a sip, and her eyes almost roll into the back of her head.
“Oh my God, I’ve never tasted anything so good.”
She takes another mouthful and lets out a moan that goes straight to my cock.
“Careful, zayka… if you keep moaning like that…”
Her eyes flash wickedly, and she moans again, knowing what it is doing to me, and I have a sudden need to make her keep moaning.
“What are you going to do about it?” she taunts, licking her lips enticingly. “Make me moan louder in a crowded restaurant?”
Yes, my little hell bunny, that’s exactly what I will do.
“Who am I to deny my fiancée an ounce of pleasure?”
She looks excited by the prospect. But she cocks an eyebrow, and a teasing smile twitches on her juicy lips. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but yes, my love. I most certainly would.”
I stand, knowing full well the front of my dinner pants are showing exactly what she is doing to me, and slide into the seat beside her.
To other patrons, we’re just two people enjoying the spectacular view of New York City outside. But beneath the table, my hand slides between her thighs.
“What are you going to do?” She squirms with arousal as my fingers find her soft satin panties.
“You should know by now, zayka, I always rise to a challenge,” I say as my finger slips beneath her panties.
She’s wet and warm, and I’m so fucking hard this is going to be torture. Sweet fucking torture.
My fingers circle her clit and begin to rub the slippery little nub. She moans and bites down on her lip, her face barely containing her pleasure.
She moans my name breathlessly. “Lev…”
“Yes, my love?” I ask as I slide a finger into her warm, wet pussy.
Her lips part, and her face shimmers with pleasure. On the table, her hands ball into fists.
“Oh God…” she pants, her chest rising and falling.
“You like that, zayka?” She clenches around my finger, and I have to resist rubbing the front of my dress pants because my cock is aching so much. “Do you like me playing with your pussy in a crowded room?”
When she doesn’t reply, I stop moving my finger, and she winces. She’s close to coming, and the loss of friction and movement will be torture.
“Please…” she begs.
“Let me hear you say it,” I rasp.
“Say what?” She moans, and her eyes are glazed with need and desperation.
“Do you like me playing with your pussy in a room full of people?”
I rub her engorged clit, around and around and around in circles.
She bangs her palm on the table. “Oh God, yes…”
“Good girl,” I say, plunging my finger into her soaked pussy. She lets out a grateful groan and squirms against me.
My fingers pick up the pace, and she starts to pant, and I can’t look away from her lovely face as pleasure ravages it.
She whimpers and looks at me with glazed eyes. “Lev… I-I’m… g-going… to…”
“Come for me like a good girl.”
Her eyes close and her lips part as she unravels around my fingers, her sweet pussy shuddering and clenching as she comes. She tries to control her moan by crushing her teeth into her lip, but the honeyed sound escapes them, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world.
Around us, diners go about their dinner, none the wiser that I’m making my little bunny come right in front of them.
When her pleasure recedes, I pull my soaked fingers from her pussy and bring them to my lips and slowly suck them into my mouth. Brooke watches through heavy-lidded eyes, her dark gaze telling me she needs more as I suck her from my fingers.
And the feeling is more than mutual.
“Get me somewhere where you can fuck me,” she demands just as the waiter appears at our table.
And by the look on his face, he heard exactly what she just said.
I pull several hundred dollar bills from my wallet and drop them on the table for the bottle of champagne. “Our plans have changed.”
I grab Brooke’s hand and guide her out of the restaurant. I’m barely able to control myself with her during the elevator ride down to the underground garage, kissing her fiercely against the mirrored walls as my hands roam up and down her body.
Igor is waiting for us in the Phantom, and if he is surprised to see us back so soon, he doesn’t show it.
Desperate to get Brooke home so I can finish what I started, I pull her into the back of the car with me and give Igor instructions to get us home quickly.
We leave the underground garage in a screech of tires as I kiss her crazy hard in the back seat.
I can’t keep my hands off her and am so distracted by her, I don’t see the threat before it is on top of us.
I look up just in time to see a set of headlights speeding toward us. Right toward Brooke’s side of the car.
In seconds, the car collides with us, and we spin out of control. The windows explode, sending shards of glass glittering through the interior like we’re in a snow globe, and metal buckles and crumples, the thud vibrating through my body and jolting my teeth. It happens fast, and then it’s over, and we come to a quick stop.
As the smoke and glass settle, I reach for Brooke to make sure she is unhurt.
Her side of the car has taken the brunt of the collision, and she is half lying on the seat, half on the floor.
I press my palms to her cheeks. “Are you hurt?”
When she shakes her head, I quickly pull her back onto the seat. She’s rattled. But nothing seems broken.
I call over my shoulder to Igor in the front. “Are you okay?”
“I am unhurt, Pakhan.”
“Good. I need you to call Feliks. Tell him to organize a cleanup crew.” There is no need to explain further. He knows what it means. Feliks will need to ensure the right police officers arrive on scene. Because chances are, they’ll get here before we have the opportunity to remove the body of whoever is in that car.
Because even if they’re still alive, they’ll be a body by the time I finish with them.
This was no accident.
This was deliberate.
An attempt on my life.
Or was it an attempt on hers?
A shiver rolls through me. Now that I’ve announced her as my fiancée, this could be an attempt on her life.
I stalk over to the other car, blinded by rage. Let everyone know what happens to people who try to hurt my fiancée.
The driver’s head is against the steering wheel.
Grabbing his hair, I lift his head, and I recognize him immediately.
Dmitri Barakov.
Aleks’ younger brother.
I’ve been wondering when he would show up.
He’s not a part of the bratva. But he knew who his brother was and what he could do. Of the pain he could inflict.
This is almost a relief.
Because this attack wasn’t on Brooke.
“I suppose this is retaliation for your brother.”
“You take from me, I take from you.”
I am my gun at him. “You missed.”
Blood coats his teeth from his bloody lip as he smiles. “Your time will come, mudak.”
“Good luck doing it from hell. Say hi to your brother for me.”
I pull the trigger and put him to sleep for good.