Mikhail

36 (R)

"Wellesley agreed to talks," Mikhail informed me lowly, darkened gaze set on the faint smile on my lips.

With my knees on either side of his impressive frame, atop the brown leather armchair in the corner of Mogilevich's library, my finger trailed along the prominent bone of his jaw.

He's too beautiful, I thought, and all mine.

His hands moved over the sides of my thighs, until he was able to tug my chest to his with a possessive grip of my behind.

"That's good," I decided softly, tingling as the object of his undivided attention, "he agreed to your terms?"

"Not yet."

Gaze slowly shifting back to mine, he brushed my hair behind my ear and a delightful tingle danced down my spine.

"He'll listen to me," I insisted, "if he hasn't already heard Noah."

Mikhail hesitated, but still he had required to be present when I would see my father today. If not to keep me safe from my own kin, to show his and his family's devotion to me.

Our treaty was signed and put into motion with Mogilevich one by one taking out the families who had been after us. He had proved his end of the bargain, and everything now rested in my father's stubborn hands - hands that dared not accept my love for the enemy.

However today would go, I needed to walk away with the beautiful man now all but caressing the side of my head in his large hand. If I should lose my family, so be it. It hadn't been my father or our men who had stood by me and saved me on multiple occasions.

In fact, one of our own had tried to kill me.

Vinnie's fate would be decided upon by my father. It would be his chance to show either agreement to our terms and treaty, or stupidly decide to keep the Mogilevich's as his enemy.

"You think too much, kukolka," the dangerous man smiled, and my heart soared dotingly.

I rested into his touch and absentmindedly toyed with the buttons of his dress shirt, brushing my hand against the deliciously bulging muscles the fabric clung onto.

"God forbid I should let my little head explode," I gently teased, and earned a sinfully husky laugh in reply.

"It wasn't meant to offend."

His thumb trailed along my bottom lip, carefully tugging it down to watch it roll back to cover my teeth. With his fingers curled in a hold of my jaw, he guided me closer, the minuscule space between us vanishing.

"I have gifts for you," his hot lips brushed over mine tantalisingly, enough so that the tips of my fingers itched to grab at him.

Instead, I kissed him lightly, body obliviously pressing against his in an attempt to get even closer to him, albeit it being impossible. My arms loosely looped around his strong and defined neck, a curl of his hair twirled around my finger.

Gifts?

Unless the giant man had suddenly grown another penis, in addition to the one hardening underneath me whenever I so much as breathed, the plural form of the word left me confused.