He rests his hand over mine. The sudden appearance of his palm radiates heat, infecting my very core. “Eto tvoy prikaz?Is that your order?”
I nearly crumble under his gaze. He’s not glaring at me, not judging me, not trying to pierce me with a critical inquiry.
He’saskingif it’s my decision.
My order.
It dawns on me then that he’s probably thought about this, too.
I whisper, “Yes.”
A new sensation invades my spirit, something I’ve never felt in my life. It’s a sweltering heat that surges deep inside my solar plexus, flooding my chest and my limbs. Everything about it makes me feel alive.
For the very first time, I hold my head high, not shying away from the way it makes me feel. It’s almost better than sex.Almost.
“No harm will come to this child,” he restates. “Is that your order?”
I nod. “It is.”
“Then I shall obey,rodnaya.”
Apingradiates in my core. It spreads through my body, solidifying my position. I sit up a little straighter, loop my finger through the handle of the teacup, and nod. “Good.”
Then it hits me. Power.
I’m feelingpower.
Sure, Pavel has listened to me in the past. And what good did that do? The club got raided by a zealous defector and a few of his buddies. While plenty of brigadiers got injured, none of them died, and Pavel got us away to safety.
After executing the man who caused the scene.
But that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t given him the idea to begin with.
Doubt seeps into my proud moment. Pavel squeezes my hand and then raises it to his lips, holding my gaze as he kisses my knuckles. The simplest of motions leaves me breathless, almost forgetting all the nights he has spent worshiping my body.
He’s doing it now. And he’s not even trying to hide it.
Whatever doubts made themselves evident drift away as I stare right back at him. I don’t flinch. I don’t evenwantto look away. I’m amazed by his willingness to consider my order—to even call it that—and overwhelmed by the intensity crackling between us.
In just a few short minutes, everything changes.
And I know things will keep changing, too.
He sighs as he sets my hand on the table. “You need to eat,Lisichka.”
Blush tickles my neck when I hear his nickname for me.
“You need your strength,” he adds. “For the nights ahead.”
My mood dips.
Right—my brother is dead. I’m going to have a hell of a time sleeping.
The moment Pavel moves aside, Viktoria reaches for my plate, scooping it from the table and whisking it into the kitchen. Before I can argue with her, she reheats my food and returns the plate, squeezing my shoulder.
“It will help,” she whispers. “Trust me.”
Pain echoes from her touch, and the terrible events of the day come flooding back. Christ, I just lost a brother to the Bratva.