I tried to hold in my moan by taking long gulps of wine, which had Dmitry smirking and leaning back in his chair like the smug asshole he was.
I put my hand on his again and looked at him, narrowing my eyes, pursing my lips and pleading with him to show mercy on me.
Although he was still talking with Nikolai, he slowly turned his head to look at me, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a smirk, and then winked, continuing on with rubbing his fingers up and down my panties.
Nikolai started speaking with Amara, and Dmitry took that moment to lean in so his lips brushed against my ear. “Jesus Christ, Claudia,” he growled. “You’re fucking soaked for me.” He hummed. “I’m going to pull my fingers back and they’re gonna be all glossy, isn’t that right, detka?”
He ran his tongue along the shell of my ear, and I shivered, darting my eyes around the table again to make sure nobody was watching.
My husband pressed his finger to my clit, and I sucked in a quick breath, curling my toes.
“Do you think anybody will notice if I suck on my fingers?”
I was pretty proud of myself for holding off the sound of pleasure that was about to come out of my throat at hearing those filthy words.
I could just imagine Dmitry doing just that, the digits glossy from my arousal, and him sucking on them like he’d skipped to dessert.
My inner muscles clenched with the memory of what it felt like having him inside of me, of how it sounded when he came.
He rubbed his finger on my clit once, twice, and added pressure on the third time.
And then when everybody started eating, he pulled his hand out from between my thighs. While staring into my eyes, my breath lodged in my chest, Dmitry brought his fingers to his mouth and dragged his tongue across them.
My face flamed with embarrassment and something carnal.
Although the atmosphere was light, Gio still acted like he had a stick up his ass. Tatiana kept stealing glances at my brother, and Amara and Nikolai were doting on Luca.
Dmitry had his arm over the back of the chair again. His posture was relaxed, his fingers once again brushing along my bare shoulder. He knew what he was doing by constantly touching me and knew the effect it had on me.
Goose bumps popped out along my arms, and I wasn't ashamed to hope this lunch got done quickly so we could go back to his house, or a hotel, wherever he planned on taking me, so we could actually consummate the marriage.
After long minutes I was able to regain my control, and my body calmed and cool.
Nikolai, Dmitry, and Gio started talking about work, their conversation cryptic and not making any sense to anyone but them.
“As much as you assholes annoy the hell out of me, I won’t lie and say this marriage doesn’t make our union even stronger,” Gio said. He leaned back in his chair and braced his elbow on Tatiana’s chair.
She visibly shifted, as if having him that close unnerved her.
Although I totally understood seeing as Gio was just as much of a tattooed beast as the Petrov brothers. And because she was a tiny thing, it was easy to be intimidated by these men.
Dmitry started talking about something or another, and when I glanced at Nikolai, I could see him staring at Gio with a strange expression on his face. My brows pulled down low just as he turned his focus to me and smirked.
“Claudia,” Nikolai drawled in his thick Russian accent. “Do you know about our fight club business venture?”
I could feel Dmitry tense beside me, but I kept my focus on his brother.
“Nikolai,” Dmitry growled and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table and glowering at the other Russian.
“What, brat?”
“Enough,” Dmitry bit out.
But it was clear Nikolai wasn’t perturbed by the clear aggression and warning pouring off Dmitry. Whatever Nikolai was doing, whatever he planned on saying, was going to continue whether Dmitry liked it.
Nikolai smirked and cast a glance at Gio before facing me again. “You should check out a fight. It’s pretty fucking incredible entertainment.”
“Language, Nikolai,” Amara chided, but I could hear in her voice this wasn't unusual verbiage for her husband.
“Fucking ya,” Luca shouted, a wide smile on his face as he scored points on whatever game he played.
Nikolai chuckled and looked over at his son, but at the narrowed-eyed look on Amara’s face, he sobered and shifted on his chair.
“Baby, we don’t repeat the bad words you hear Daddy say, remember?”
Luca didn’t respond as he kept playing, which had Amara sighing in frustration and casting another angry look at Nikolai before grabbing her water glass and downing it.
“I mean it, Claudia. Have your husband bring you.”