Page 25 of Kidnapped Bride

Nikolai pushed his plate aside and rested his forearms on the table. His gaze dropped to the way the T-shirt collar had slipped lower on my chest. "You pictured me?" One eyebrow lifted as he folded his fingers together. I had him eating out of my hand now. I imagined his dick was already getting hard.

I nodded and leaned in a little closer, letting the fabric shift again so more skin showed. "I'd lie in bed rereading your messages and wonder what it would be like to talk to you for real… Or what it'd be like if you touched me." I bit my lower lip and watched his eyes follow the movement. "I wondered if you'd be patient or if you'd take what you wanted the second I gave you permission."

"Hmm, I thought I gave that to you already." When his eyes shifted to the glass of wine, I felt like I was losing him. He brought it to his lips and sipped, eyeing me over the rim, so I ran my hand through my hair and shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't know… Maybe I was too drunk to remember." That was a total lie. The flush in my cheeks probably gave me away too.

I remembered every single second of that moment now more than a week ago.

It was incredible.

And my body remembered it too, so vividly, I was getting wet thinking about those hands ghosting over me again.

"You think I need your permission to take what I want?" Nikolai stood up slowly, setting the glass down. His chair scraped backward, and the very thing he said he witnessed about me every time he got dominant started happening despite my attempt to control it.

My cheeks burned.

My palms were sweaty, and I felt my pulse jump hard in my throat.

I had started this game to twist him around and make him want me enough to slip up, but the second he stood over me, the plan started to melt.

"I was trying to be nice," I said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the seat. "You could at least pretend to play along."

He spun me around so fast, my hands slapped down on the wood to catch myself. Dishes clattered and a glass tipped over, spilling red wine across the tablecloth. His chest molded to my back and his mouth found the side of my neck, teeth grazing the skin there.

"Nice is over, Kira," he said against my ear. "If you're gonna flirt with me, then let's not play any games. Bend the fuck over and spread your legs for me."

I gasped as he shoved the hem of the T-shirt up my back with one hand and yanked his boxers down my thighs with the other.

Cool air hit my bare skin and I shivered, but heat flooded between my legs at the same time.

His palm smoothed over the curve of my ass, then dipped lower, fingers parting me without any warning. I was already wet, embarrassingly so, and he felt it immediately.

"Look at that," he murmured, sliding two fingers through the slickness. "All that attitude and you're soaked. And here I thought it was all talk and no game. I must really affect you, huh?"

I tried to answer, but he pushed those fingers inside me in one smooth thrust and the words died in my throat.

My back arched and I gripped the edge of the table harder.

"Answer me," he said, starting to pump in and out. "You touch yourself thinking about me while you were up there refusing to eat?"

I didn’t know what to say.

How quickly the tables had turned, and I was no longer the one seducing him.

But this was what I wanted to know, right?

That I had power over him to manipulate him into doing what I wanted, which I did.

I proved that the minute he lost control and grabbed me. So this was the result.

That thought made my body relax as I said, "I’m surprised you don't have a camera watching me up there."

He added a third finger and the stretch burned so good, I pushed back against his hand, chasing the pressure.

The table rocked and wine sloshed out of the other glass as I whimpered and leaned into his touch.

"You want me to watch you touch yourself, Kira?" Nikolai took my hand and guided it toward my waist, then said, "Do it… Touch yourself like a good little princess."