Chapter 35 The Proposal
❦ Rosalind ❦
I tensed as he lowered his face to mine, so close I could count the freckles on his nose. They were adorable, and I wondered how I’d missed them before.
“Marry me. Or else, he dies,” he whispered so softly, you’d think he hadn’t just made a threat.
My body reacted separately from my brain, and while my hand rose to slap him, my thighs clenched and I shattered silently, soaking wet from nothing but his nearness.
He caught my hand easily, his eyes hardening the slightest before they softened again. I was suddenly thankful the slap hadn’t connected.
“Don’t worry, it’s not just because I want your little hotel,” he said, amused.
“Must not be so little if you’re slobbering over it like a dog on a bone,” I murmured, uneasy.
I watched, mesmerized, as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. I dragged my gaze to his tortured ones, and I knew the man would bone me right where we stood if I didn’t do something to stop it.
Problem was, I didn’t want to stop it.
Muscle rippled under fabric as he pressed his palm against the wall behind my head, as if he needed to keep the hand busy. The other brushed a thumb over my bottom lip. My chest shuddered with every inhale.
If he was trying to seduce me to get my hotel, it was working.
“I have a plan.” His whisper caressed my skin.
“It better be bloody brilliant to require me giving you exactly what you want.” His thumb brushed over my top lip.
I shuddered, willing my legs to hold my weight.
He didn’t react to my statement. Instead, he glanced down at my nipples, which were so hard they pushed against my thin bra and hoodie.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, trying to distract him from my twin peaks. From my view, his eyes appeared closed, his long lashes fanning peacefully on his skin. But I felt his heated gaze on my nipples to the point of hurt, and I knew without a doubt that only his mouth could soothe them.
I panicked at the filth my brain fed me, at how much I wanted his lips on mine. Needing to escape his suffocating presence, I tried to step away.
A yelp tore from my lips as his hand, the one that had brushed my lips, grabbed my throat and slammed me back in position. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to remind me who was in charge.
His lips followed soon after, kissing the side of my neck so desperately I moaned. I pressed my lips together, but it was too late. He had heard how much he affected me.
“Viktor…” I tried, but his lips pressed against mine, my bottom lip immediately getting sucked into his hot, wet mouth.
The hand around my neck moved to cup my face, the other snaking over my ass. He slapped it. It hurt. But it also made me wetter, hungrier, messier, and soon we were frenching like our lives depended on it.
My jeans gave under his command, slipping down to my ankles before I realized he had unbuttoned them. He pulled one leg out and stood back, staring at my now naked lower half.
I crossed them shyly, the tiny triangle of my g-string feeling too light under his intense stare.
“Take off your shirt. I want to see you,” I whispered.
He followed the command as if compelled, and I knew I had him in the palm of my hand. It felt good being able to control a man like this, one so strong, stubborn, and cold.
I moved closer to him as he threw the shirt to the ground, brushing my finger dangerously close to his nipple. He stared, patient, waiting, as if relishing what he would do when it was his turn.
I replaced the finger with both palms, running them over his broad, tattooed chest and feeling every ridge, swell, and ink.
When I placed a gentle kiss on one of his nipples, he broke. He lifted me, both palms gripping my ass as he walked to the sofa and sat with me straddling him.
We kissed again, his hands tracing every inch of skin that lay bare. He slipped them under my hoodie, massaging each breast with an intensity in his stare that scared me. He pushed the hoodie and bra higher on my chest, released my breasts, and swiftly captured a nipple, sucking and grazing it with his teeth.
My skin tingled with pleasure and heat, sweat coating my back with a cold sheen.
One hand came up and into my mouth. I sucked the fingers while holding his stare.
He took them out and pushed my g-string aside, pushing into my center smoothly.
“Oh…” His mouth claimed mine, cutting off my words.
I fisted his hair, buried my face in his neck, and tight as he pumped his fingers while circling my clit with the heel of his palm.
My eyes rolled back, and I clenched around his fingers. Fire and ice washed over my body, and I was left gasping from the powerful orgasm.
“Now that I have your attention, still interested in the plan?” he said after a beat. I noticed his hands were no longer wandering.
I pushed off his chest to look at him with a questioning expression.
“Not here. The first time I fuck you will be in my bed.” He answered my silent question.
And that’s what sparked my brain back to life. I scrambled off his legs, almost falling over as I pulled on my jeans.
Fuck.
He had impeccable control, and I’d let him strip my defenses while practically begging him to fuck me with my eyes. My skin felt hot and I knew he could see the blush from my embarrassment.
Thankfully, he didn’t say a word as I dressed and fingered my tangled hair back to normal.
I sat on the chair I had refused earlier. Crossing my arms, I glared at him.
“Okay, what plan?” I asked as if nothing had just happened.
He smirked, wiping lip gloss off his lips as he pulled his shirt back on.
“Our fathers’ killers have run free for far too long. It doesn’t do well for my reputation, and it will embolden further insurgencies.”
“And how would me marrying you, not that I ever would, but how would that help us catch the killer?”
His brows pinched in annoyance at my words, but he continued.
“If I’m right about the motive, you marrying me will greatly disturb them. They would make a mistake that’ll reveal their identity.”
“How so?”
“The motive is The Grand Marlow, and you are the key.”
“So in essence, you fit the profile?”
He pinned me with a bored stare. “So do Orlov and Marcus Devries, maybe even a third option I haven’t considered or know about.”
“Marcus has served my father for decades. Do not disrespect him in front of me,” I bristled.
“And Orlov?” He leaned back leisurely. “You two were chummy before now. He probably planned it from the beginning.”
“Orlov had no idea who I was…”
“That’s what he wanted you to think…” he interrupted.
“If he truly planned to trap me in a marriage and murder my father, he wouldn’t have fucking hurt me!”