Lies of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance(62)

It was a slim chance, and I didn’t think he’d actually do it. But then again, it goes against his territorial nature to send me back with Maksim or Yuri while he goes to the club.

So let’s say I’m a tiny bit happy.

Or a lot considering I can’t stop grinning like an idiot. But my good mood gradually disappears when I sit beside Kirill in the back of the car. As soon as we start moving, he rolls down the partition, cutting us off from Yuri and Viktor.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His deep voice swishes in the air like a whip.

My back snaps into an erect position. “N-nothing, I just tripped.”

“You want me to believe that nonsense? I would’ve bought that when we first met in the military, but now, you have better balance than almost anyone, so why don’t you tell me the actual reason you pulled that fucking stunt.”

Okay, it was a long shot to fool him.

“I just want to go home.”

“You could’ve simply asked for that like a normal human fucking being.”

“And you would’ve granted it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because you distrust everything?”

“Watch that fucking tone, and if you think this show will make me trust whatever you’re up to, then you’re in for a wake-up call.” He reaches out to me, and I grow still.

Kirill is intense on good days. On bad days, however, he’s a force to be reckoned with.

I feel stomped on in his path and can be either destroyed or discarded. Or both.

Kirill grabs my side, and I wince.

He lifts up my shirt and inspects the bruise that’s turning purple on my skin.

“You fucking—” He cuts himself off to breathe heavily. “If you hurt yourself for whatever reason again, I swear to fuck, Sasha…”

“I won’t.”

His light eyes taper as they watch me closely, intently, almost like he wants to cut my head off. But then he shakes his head and tucks my shirt back into my pants gently to avoid causing me any discomfort.

I don’t know what’s come over me.

He’s still carefully putting the shirt back in place when I lunge at him.

“What the fuck are you doing—” His words are cut off when I slam my lips to his.

I’ve never been the first to kiss Kirill, have never found the courage to do it, because I’ve always been insecure about the enormity of feelings I have for him.

It started in the army and has never dwindled. If anything, it’s been growing stronger and more dangerous until I couldn’t control it anymore.

But now, I don’t care if he knows how much I like him. No, like is too mild a word and describes nothing of the overpowering intensity my heart holds for him.

It hits me then as my lips find his.

I probably love the asshole.

Kirill is stunned for only a moment before he threads his fingers in and fists whatever length of my hair he can grab as he devours me. My kiss is tentative, emotional, and vulnerable. His is the epitome of destruction.

And you know what? I might be fine with that, after all.

His beastly side is part of who he is and I wouldn’t have him any other way.

The car comes to a halt and we break apart—or I do.

Kirill still has his hand fisted in my hair, and he uses it to force my attention back to him. “Care to explain what that was for?”

“We’re at the house,” I whisper.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

His face is close. It’s so close that I can count the tiny flecks of black in his light eyes through his glasses. So close that I can smell the whiskey on his breath from the drink he had earlier.

I can also taste it on my tongue. So strong and such a damn turn-on.

I clear my throat. “You kiss me all the time. You don’t see me asking you why.”

“It’s different when I do it. My purpose is to claim you. What's yours?”

I lift my chin. “Maybe it’s to claim you, too.”

A smile lifts his lips—it’s gradual and big and so gorgeous, I wish I could take a picture of it so I can stare at it whenever I please.

Viktor knocks on the window, and Kirill finally releases me and steps out of the car, but not before he gives me a weird look.

My leg is better, though the limping isn’t gone. The moment we’re in the house, a huge confetti bomb pops and Karina shouts, “Happy Birthday, Kirya!”

Viktor, Yuri, Maksim, and Kirill all stop. Though Yuri and Maksim were in on this and helped Karina and me with the preparations, they’re still Kirill’s guards and will abandon the ship if he so much as hints at any form of disdain.

The man of the house stares at the festive-looking table and the decorations on the walls, the ceiling, and even the floor. Anna went all out and prepared dishes that could feed the entire house for a few days. To the side of the feast, a huge birthday cake with Kirill’s name on it sits majestically on a wheeled cart.

“I had it specially made,” Karina chatters on when he shows no sign of approving or disapproving the situation. “They almost ruined it on the way here, but it was saved last minute! Anna made a lot of food, and we can invite everyone if you want, except for Yulia since, you know…”