“They’re a strange couple,” I muse. My mind is half on this, half on the stairwell.
Then I look at Kostya again.
“Sorry,” I say. “Opposites attract, I guess.”
He shakes his head.
“My mother was two months pregnant with me when they got married,” he says. “When my father became king, he changed the marriage license so it looks like they got married first. So they could be the perfect, ideal family.”
“There’s a lot of pressure on a ruler,” I say. I think of Yelena, the wannabe-princess who throws masquerade balls, and for a split second I’m angry that anyone could think that Kostya could ever be with her.
“He found out where I was last night,” Kostya says. “One of the military police recognized me.”
He glances around the corners of the office, almost looking amused.
“He got shot today, the country might fall apart, and he’s angry that I’m going to illegal bars,” he says, half to himself. “You know what else he’s angry about?”
“What?” I ask.
He gives me a long, long look, and I feel like it goes straight through me and lights my core on fire.
“Me?” I ask, softly.
“He’s furious that I could have my pick of any Svelorian girl, and instead I’m spending my time with a trashy American,” he says.
I swallow as heat pools inside me.
This is terrible timing, I think. You cannot get horny the same day as an assassination attempt.
I glance down. Judging by the lump in Kostya’s gray pants, I’m not the only one.
“The trashy American probably shouldn’t be spending her time with you, either,” I say.
Kostya grins. Then he straightens up and walks over to where I’m standing and rests his hands against the desk on either side of me, our faces inches apart.
“Probably not,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I always seem to get in trouble when she’s around.”
“You know what they say about American girls,” I say. He’s even closer now, and I’m panting for breath. “Trouble.”
“I think it’s just this one,” he says. “I can’t seem to behave myself when she’s around. I gave her the shirt right off my back when she asked.”
I slide one finger under the waistband of his pants and tug gently.
“She sounds dangerous,” I say.
“She is,” Kostya says. His hand moves to the small of my back and presses me against him. “When I’m with her I end up running from the police and getting into fights. I’ve still got a split lip.”
“Are you sure that was her fault?” I tease.
I lift one hand to his face and touch his lip, the thin red line just visible.
“The last time I ran into her, I ended up eating her out in a public stairwell,” he whispers. “And I can’t stop thinking about it.”
His erection throbs against me.
“There was a national crisis today and I was hard the whole fucking time,” he whispers. “Someone would ask me a question and I’d be staring off into space, wishing my tongue was in her pussy.”
I turn bright red, even as heat surges through me.
“That’s not very princely,” I say.
“Fuck princely,” Kostya says, and kisses me. I open my mouth instantly and let him in.
This isn’t like the kiss last night, slow and sensuous. This is hard and fast, an I-fucking-need-this-now kiss, a wound-so-tight-I-might-explode kiss.
Kostya pulls back and I bite his lip just hard enough that he growls, then moves his lips past my ear and down my neck, dragging a low groan out of me.
“Fuck, that’s sexy,” he says, his lips moving against my skin. He nips at the cords in my neck and I gasp.
“Please don’t leave a mark,” I say.
He laughs.
“I know better,” he says.
He nips again and pushes my skirt over my hips and I gasp at the cold steel desk against my ass. He lifts me onto it and I instantly wrap my legs around him, squeezing his thick erection against me. We kiss again and his hands are scrabbling for something on my back.
We pause.
“Where the fuck is the zipper?” he says, panting for breath.
I reach over to my side and pull it down and then he’s pulling the dress over my head and off. I unbutton one more button on his shirt and then pull the whole thing messily over his head, running my hands down the hard, broad muscles in his chest and abs.
Kostya pulls one bra strap down to my elbow. The second my nipple is visible it’s between his teeth and I can hear myself make a guttural, animal noise.
“You even sound like a barbarian,” he says, my nipple still in his teeth.
He pushes me backward onto the desk as he drags my other bra strap down and pinches my other nipple. I arch my back and groan, the sound echoing around the concrete office.
Suddenly, the computer chirps, and the screen flickers to life.
I gasp and put my hands over myself, as if I could possibly act like I’m not nearly-naked on this desk.
Kostya’s totally unruffled. He reaches over and yanks the cables from the back of the monitor without missing a beat, and the screen goes mercifully dark.
“Camera’s in the monitor,” he says, and kisses the space between my breasts, sliding his fingers under the sides of my panties and pulling them off, his lips moving quickly down my stomach.
“Wait,” I gasp. “Microphone? Can they hear us?”
Kostya ducks for a moment. My bra’s tangled around my waist, and I get it off as I hear the sound of one thing after another being unplugged, and then he stands again and tosses a surge protector onto the desk next to me with a crash.
“No,” he says, and plants a kiss on my stomach, dipping his tongue into my belly button.
It tickles a little. I laugh, and I can feel Kostya smile against me.
“Are there noises you don’t make?” he asks.
“I don’t quack,” I say.
He pushes my thighs apart and my knees over his shoulders, then slides one finger slowly down my mound. My body jolts when he runs it over my clit, and then he slides it between my lips.
“You don’t quack yet,” he says. “You’re wet enough to be a duck.”
It shouldn’t be sexy, but it is.
“I think I’m wet enough to be a shark,” I say, which probably doesn’t make sense but I don’t care.
Kostya slides the underside of his tongue down over my clit, and my body jolts again with the sweet pressure. He starts licking me slowly and firmly, flattening his tongue as he licks up, curling it as he licks back down.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I gasp, because he is really good at this.
He keeps licking and licking, but already, I can tell I’m gonna come if he doesn’t stop soon. It’s like he found a light switch inside my body and flipped it and suddenly every nerve in my body is lit up.
Kostya runs his fingers along my lips, just barely nudging inside, and I groan. I’m grabbing the edges of the desk, both hands clenched, because the last thing I want to do is grab Kostya’s head and ruin this.
Then he suddenly slows his tongue, pressing even harder as he slides his fingers inside me, all the way to the knuckle.