“We should drop these off if we don’t want to keep your uncle waiting.”
He stalks towards me like a wolf on the hunt, never taking his eyes from mine. I take a step back, a grin playing at my lips, until my back hits the counter and I realize I’m trapped. The sexy grin he gives me is predatory and hungry, and I feel my heart start racing under that gaze of his. He steps closer, pressing his body against mine, filling up the space with his powerful body.
“Let him wait,” he says, sliding a finger under my sweater and running it along my stomach before dipping under my waistband and making me let out a small gasp. “It’s been too long since I’ve felt my wife’s pussy around my cock.”
By the time we leave the house to drop off the cookies, my legs feel rubbery, there’s a wonderful ache between my thighs, and I feel like I’m glowing from head to toe. Aleksandr looks over at me and laughs.
“YourI just got fuckedface is adorable as hell and so painfully obvious,lisichka. My family’s going to have a field day with this.”
I blush even harder and set the last bag of cookies on the front porch in front of me. He smiles and bends down so I can hop on his back. He gives me a piggyback ride to his truck while I bring my face to his neck and breathe in the delicious scent of him that I can’t seem to get enough of. His boots crunch in the snow, and I’m nearly blinded by the bright sun that’s decided to come out today, so I close my eyes and just breathe him in until he’s opening the passenger side door and helping me in.
“Will Ivan be there?” I ask when he gets in on his side.
“Yeah, probably. He’s always there,”
“I’ve never eaten Russian food before,” I say, already getting excited about my lunch.
Aleksandr laughs and gives my thigh a squeeze before leaving it there, the weight of his hand comforting and arousing. “Some of it’s really delicious, but prepare yourself, the first ingredient isn’t sugar.”
I laugh and rest my hand on top of his, enjoying the ride as we make our way into the city. He doesn’t even complain when I turn on some Christmas music. The parking lot is full when we get there, and he must sense it when my nerves set in because as soon as we’re parked, he turns to me and cups my face, pulling me closer so our lips are almost touching.
“Don’t be nervous,lisichka. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”
“I’ll try and not think about how I’m having lunch with a dangerous and powerful Bratva.”
He smiles and kisses me gently. “Think instead about how you just got fucked by a powerful and dangerous Bratva hitman.”
A soft sigh escapes at his words, making his sexy grin grow even bigger. “My surprisingly naughty wife,” he whispers against my lips. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how perfect you are.”
“I feel the same way about you, Sasha.”
He smiles and gives me another kiss. “Let’s go in so I can show off my beautiful, perfect wife.”
We walk in and immediately bypass the gorgeous, blonde hostess who gives my husband a smile that I feel is altogether too familiar and head toward a separate dining area in the back that seems to be reserved just for us. There’s a large table already loaded with more food than even I could eat and a smiling Viktor seated at the head of it. I notice that the table’s angled so no one will end up sitting with their backs to the doorway.
“Good to see you again, Holly,” Viktor says, standing up and coming over to pull Aleksandr into a warm hug and then surprising me by doing the same to me. “You’re family now,” he says as if that explains that.
He says something to Aleksandr in Russian and then laughs before turning to me. “Marriage suits him. I haven’t seen him this happy since he was just a kid.”
I smile and wrap my arm through my husband’s, happy that I’m able to do that for him and that Viktor has noticed it. We sit down as Ivan walks in with a big grin on his face followed by a waitress who’s even more beautiful than the hostess we’d passed on the way in. She’s tall, incredibly thin, blonde, with cheekbones that would make any model weep with envy. In other words, every single thing I’m not, and I suddenly feel very plain and very awkward and wishing we’d just stayed home.
In the next second, Aleksandr’s mouth is pressed to my ear and he’s whispering, “Remind me to play strip poker with you,lisichka. You’re so easy to read, beautiful.” He kisses my ear and then runs his tongue over my earlobe, making me suck in a quick breath. “Your jealousy is adorable, but I’ve never fucked her, sweetheart, or anyone else who works here. You’re the only woman I want to slide my cock into, and you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, so stop worrying.”
He gives my earlobe a soft bite. “And if you let another woman make you feel bad about yourself again, I’m going to bend you over my knee and spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit down comfortably for days.”
He hears the soft moan I give and lets out a deep laugh. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before pulling back and giving me a wink.
When I turn my head back around, Ivan is openly gawking while Viktor’s curiosity and surprise is more hidden. There’s only the slightest arch of his brow to show that he’s even noticed our little exchange. The waitress is giving me more of a glare, but I keep my head held high and don’t let it get to me.
“Good girl,” Aleksandr says, giving my thigh a squeeze and then resting his arm across my shoulders, making it very clear that we’re together and damn happy about it. He says something to the waitress in Russian that has her quickly turning her head away and Ivan barking out a laugh and saying something to her that has her blushing and smacking his shoulder before turning away to refill Viktor’s glass with what I’m assuming is very expensive vodka.
Two more men enter the room and sit down. They’re both wearing suits, but that’s where the similarities end. One is tall with hair so blond it’s almost white, and the other is several inches shorter with a substantial gut that’s testing the strength of his jacket buttons. So far they’re holding out, but I’m not sure how much longer it’ll last.
“This is Dmitri,” Aleksandr says, pointing to the taller of the two men. “And this is Pyotr.”
I say hi and squeeze Aleksandr’s thigh under the table, feeling very much out of place. He kisses my temple and whispers a “You’re doing great, baby,” that makes me feel instantly better.
“Have you ever had Russian food before,” Viktor asks me, starting to fill his plate, which apparently sends a signal all around the table that it’s okay to dig in because soon there’s a clanking of silverware and several male hands reaching for the various dishes.