“Seriously?
“I survived you leaving me twice, didn’t I?” His teasing tone tugged at something deep inside me. I relaxed against him. His eyes were studying me like I was a puzzle he needed to figure out, but couldn’t. “Molly. You didn’t leave me when I told you to.” His brows scrunched down and his brow creased as if he couldn’t quite accept what that meant. “Why?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have the words to explain how leaving him would have felt like leaving my heart and my future behind, so I stayed silent.
“You didn’t leave, even though it risked your life to stay,” he pushed, trying to get me to respond.
I relented with a sigh. “I didn’t know if anyone was coming who would call an ambulance for you or put pressure—”
I stopped as Kirill shook his head. He wasn’t buying any of my weak justifications, and honestly, it wasn’t surprising. Something too real and honest had passed between us in that hallway when he’d thought he was going to die.
“You stayed because you forgive me,” he pressed, his eyes tracking mine with an intensity that was hard to match. “Because you love me.”
“You can love someone and hate them at the same time. You told me that,” I reminded him.
He wasn’t deterred. He’d seen through my brittle façade to the truth. “But you don’t hate anyone. You’ve told me enough times. You love me, and you waited for me.” His voice held wonder.
I hadn’t heard a tone like that from him in seven years. This wasn’t the jaded heir to his father’s blood-soaked bratva throne; this was Kirill, my Kirill, the boy who had only ever taken care of me.
“Well, third time’s the charm,” I muttered, feeling utterly exposed.
He stared a moment longer, and then he chuckled. The rich sound filled up my aching heart.
“Enough of this,” I said briskly. “I’m leaning on you and probably popping stitches. You need to rest. Is there anything you need?”
Kirill raked his eyes over me. “All I need is for you to lift that little skirt and sit on my face, Princess. I missed being inside you, and I don’t mind starting with my tongue if you’re worried about stitches.”
I stared at him; my breath stolen by the wicked look in his eyes. I rallied, even though my body screamed at me to do exactly what he’d suggested. “Very funny. I’m talking about medical help.”
“So am I,” he said. “It’s practically a medical emergency that my god damn balls hurt so much from wanting you. Leaving me unsatisfied would probably be a health hazard.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Kirill, at his most charming and roguish, was my personal kryptonite.
I glanced down at his body and turned away; my cheeks turning scarlet as I took in the impressively tented sheet.“Jesus! You’ll put someone’s eye out with that thing when the nurses come. Just so you know, they’re all male, so they won’t be able to help you with it, either.” I smiled sweetly as I teased him and danced backward, out of his reach.
“They could be naked courtesans for all I care. No one is helping me with it except you, Princess. I’m afraid that’s your cross to bear for the rest of your days.”
If that was supposed to sound like an imposition, it had failed spectacularly. I fought the urge to fan my face as I backed toward the door.“I should, er, get someone to come and check on you,” I said, trying to maintain some illusion of cool.
“I thought you were reading to me. Chapter three, wasn’t it?”
“You want me to read to you?”
“I want you to sit your ass down and stay with me all day. That’s what I want.”
Joy and excitement surged in my chest, mingling with the heat he had stoked only seconds ago.
“Okay, I will, but I’m not coming close enough for you to get any inappropriate ideas,” I said primly. I perched on the seat and opened the book, fighting to keep my eyes off him.
“Okay, Molly, that’s fine. But I’m getting stronger every day, and soon, if you won’t come close enough, I’ll come to you instead,” he promised.
His deep murmur sent heat cascading down my spine and made my skin tight.“Well, today is not that day.”
“No,” Kirill agreed easily enough and smirked wickedly. “But soon. Now, are you going to read to me?”
“Sure. Where was I?” I flicked through the pages and found my place, then looked up and froze.
Kirill had pushed the cover off himself, and his hand was fisting his hard-on. His cock was straining up his belly, red and angry, nearly as brutal looking as the man who was stroking it.