Page 109 of The King's Pawn
I tilt my head slightly, careful not to wake him, and let my gaze drift over his face. I lift my hand and rest it against Sasha’s chest, over the steady thump of his heart. Each beat feels likequiet proof that his world, and mine, did not end last night like I thought it would when Nikolai was handed that gun.
I don’t understand why Nikolai let us go. Men like him don’t change their minds without reason. They don’t offer mercy because they suddenly discover a conscience buried underneath all that power. There was calculation in his eyes when he stepped back, when he waved his guards away instead of forcing Sasha to kill me or his family.
A part of me wonders if it has something to do with his wife.
With Diana.
Maybe when he looked at me, he didn’t just see a bargaining chip or a liability or a disruption to the Pact. Maybe he saw a ghost, a version of the woman he loved before this life took everything from him. Maybe killing me would have meant killing her all over again. Even men like Nikolai have limits they won’t cross twice.
Or… maybe I’m giving him too much credit. Maybe this was just another move in a game so large, I can’t see the bigger picture of it yet.
Whatever the reason, I don’t question it.
I can’t afford to.
Sasha stirs next to me, his breathing changing as he slowly wakes up. The arm draped around my waist tightens instinctively, possessive even in sleep. I smile to myself at the unconscious motion.
I lift my hand and drag my fingers gently down his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadows beneath his eyes. “Morning.”
His lashes flutter open. For a few seconds he just squints at me, disoriented, his gaze unfocused like he’s surfacing from deep water. Then recognition hits. His eyes sharpen, locking onto mine.
Before I can say another word, he pulls me in and rolls us in one smooth motion, his weight settling over me as the mattress dips beneath us. I gasp, more surprised than alarmed, then laugh softly as he cages me in with his arms, forearms braced on either side of my head.
“Alina,” he says quietly, his voice still rough with sleep.
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the steady heat of him, the solid reassurance of muscle and bone and life.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere if that was what you were worried about.” I reply, teasing, even as my heart stutters at the way he’s looking at me.
His thumb brushes along my ribs, slowly and absentmindedly. “Are you okay?”
I nod, reaching up to cup his face. “I am.”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours, then lowers his forehead to mine, resting there. “Good.”
I tilt my chin up and brush my lips against his, needing to feel him in other ways than touch alone. He answers instantly, kissing me back with the same careful reverence he showed me last night carrying me out to the car. Though, there is another edge to him now, a quiet hunger that’s been brewing since we finally made it home.
His hand slides under my shirt and up my waist to my ribs, fingers splaying possessively as he deepens the kiss. His tonguetraces the seam of my lips, coaxing them apart, and I open for him without hesitation. The slow slide of his tongue against mine draws a quiet sound from my throat.
I feel him harden against my thigh, the length of him thick and unmistakable, pressing hot and heavy through the barrier of fabric between us. The knowledge that he wants me again already after everything sends a rush of liquid heat through my core.
He shifts his hips, settling more fully between my thighs. The blunt line of his cock nudges me through my pants, sliding along my seam with deliberate pressure that has me nearly bucking up against him like a dog in heat, chasing the friction, desperate for more.
A soft, broken sound escapes me, embarrassing in its neediness but I can’t stop my body from seeking his.
He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are dark and amused but burning with the same hunger I feel clawing at my insides.
“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.
His hands move to the waistband of my pants. He peels them down my legs along with my underwear in one smooth motion. I’m still slick from last night from dreams I barely remember that must have been full of him. The evidence of it glistens as he spreads my legs wider, settling back between them.
He groans quietly at the sight, a raw sound that makes my stomach flip.
“Look at you.” His thumb traces through my folds, gathering wetness before circling my clit with maddening lightness. “Still ready for me. Have you been waiting all night,Printsessa?”
I nod quickly.
My hips lift toward his touch, seeking more pressure, more anything. He gives it in the form of two fingers that slide into me easily, curling and stroking that spot inside that makes my toes curl. His thumb keeps circling my clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of my hole, his rhythm steady and relentless while his eyes stay locked on my face, drinking in every reaction.
