Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(83)

In the wake of that speech, there’s total silence. With horror, I realize that I raised my voice to such a level that the two other tables of men heard me, too.

Everyone in the room is now staring at me.

I swallow and moisten my lips. I exhale a slow, shaky breath. In a more muted tone, I say, “I apologize if that was disrespectful. It wasn’t meant to be. I was just—”

“Defending Malek,” interrupts Pakhan.

His tone is soft. His eyes are hard. I can’t tell if he’s going to pat my hand or kill me.

I whisper, “Yes.”

He doesn’t do anything for a moment except look at me. The tension in the room is palpable, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting to see what he’ll do.

Mal’s hand in mine is cool, dry, and steady.

Then Pakhan takes a puff of his cigar, blows out a cloud of smoke, and smiles.

Everyone in the room relaxes.

The men resume their conversations, the girls arrive with platters of food, and my heart remembers how to beat.

Chuckling, Pakhan says something in Russian to Mal.

“You should see her when she’s really angry,” he replies, and takes a sip of his whiskey.

Everything after that is a blur.

I know we eat, but I couldn’t say what. I know there’s conversation, but it’s in Russian so I don’t understand a thing. At one point, Mal says the name Kazimir in a questioning tone, to which Pakhan shakes his head. Then dinner’s over, and we’re standing to leave.

“Miss Keller,” says Pakhan, still sitting. He holds out a ringed hand.

When I look at it, uncertain if I’m supposed to kiss it or what, he says gently, “I don’t bite, child.”

I doubt that but grasp his hand anyway. Then I watch in shock as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

“Thank you for an interesting evening. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

His powerful, piercing gaze makes me feel shy. My cheeks faintly burn, and I find it hard to meet his eyes. “You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you, too. And thank you for not being upset with my bad manners.”

His smile is small and mysterious. “Those bad manners will serve you well in the future. Empires aren’t run by the meek.”

It sounds eerily like a prophecy.

Like he knows something about me that I don’t.

But there’s no time to dwell on it, because Mal is pulling me away, dragging me out of the restaurant and into the waiting car.

He pushes me into the back seat, slams the door behind him, and lunges at me.





39





Riley





The kiss is rough, dominant, and demanding. It’s also totally unexpected and takes my breath away.

With his hands gripping both sides of my head, Mal ravages my mouth until I’m mewing and shaking all over, clutching the lapels of his suit. Breathing hard, he breaks away and stares at me with eyes like fire.

He says gruffly, “You told the king of the Bratva that you have feelings for me.”

I’m too dizzy to know if that’s praise or a rebuke, so I shake my head wordlessly.

“Yes, you fucking did. Said it to his face, in front of all his captains. Said it in a fuck-you tone that would’ve gotten anyone else killed.”

He kisses me again, devouring my mouth.

When he breaks away this time, my heart is racing, and I’m gasping.

He drags me onto his lap, pulling me over so my legs are spread open around his hips and my dress is bunched up around my thighs. He sinks his fingers into the tender flesh of my ass and yanks me against his crotch so I’m sitting astride his erection.

Fisting a hand in my hair, he pulls my head down and rasps, “You said I was generous. Wonderful. Loyal.”

He crushes his mouth to mine and drinks deep from it until I’m whimpering.

Then he turns his mouth to my ear and growls, “You fucking defended me.”

I say breathlessly, “I can’t tell if you’re mad or happy about that.”

He flexes his hips, grinding his erection against me. His answer comes through gritted teeth.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna show you exactly how I feel about it.”

He takes the neckline of my dress in both hands. With one hard yank, he rips it wide open, tearing the fabric apart. Then he latches onto one of my exposed nipples and sucks on it, hard.

When I gasp, he grips both my breasts in his hands and goes back and forth between them, sucking and licking, teasing my rigid nipples with his thumbs, tongue, and teeth. Shivering, I sink my hands into his hair.

Between my spread legs, his erection is rock-hard.

“Mal,” I whisper. “The driver.”

“Dom!” he barks over my shoulder. He says something else in Russian.

I hear a low hum and glance back. A tinted privacy partition rises between the driver’s seat and the passenger section of the car, separating them.

Then Mal’s greedy fingers are between my legs, pulling aside my panties and sliding inside me.

“Always so ready for me,” he growls. “This sweet pussy is always so plump and slippery, ready for my dick.”

He goes back to sucking my nipples, finger fucking me as I rock back and forth on his hand. When he presses his thumb against my engorged clit, I groan, dropping my head back and closing my eyes.