Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He kisses me, and it’s hot and exciting, and I wonder if we’re going to make it to dinner at all.
But Lev breaks our kiss. “Before we go, I want to give you something.”
He reaches into his breast pocket and removes a small box. He opens it to reveal a giant diamond ring winking back at me from the black velvet.
Holy hell! It’s the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen.
I gasp. “Is it real?”
“All sixteen carats.”
It’s a giant emerald-cut diamond sitting on a platinum band.
I tentatively reach out to touch it. “It’s beautiful.”
“Only the best for the fiancée of the pakhan.” He removes it from the box and slides it onto my finger, then drops a kiss to the top of my hand. “It looks good on you.”
It does. Even in the fading light, it glitters and gleams. It’s almost as if it’s so pure it generates its own light source.
I can’t tear my eyes off it.
Then I remember why Lev gave it to me and my smile fades.
The ring is not a gift. It’s a lie.
Like all of this.
And I need to remember that.
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.