26. Viviana

"What's wrong?"

Mikhail doesn't startle when I break the silence we've been stewing in all evening. More and more these days, I think it's impossible to surprise him. He just blinks and turns to me. "Nothing."

I tap the side of his now-cold mug of hot chocolate. "You never even took a sip of this and you haven't said a word in half an hour."

He places his mug on the coffee table. "I'm just enjoying the fire."

I'm tempted to let my weird feeling go. It's been a good day. Dante came home all jazzed up from his "boy time" in the woods. He was sugared up and muddy. I gave him a bath and read him one and a half books before he was softly snoring and drooling on his dinosaur pajamas. Now, Mikhail and I are curled up in front of a fire with mugs of hot cocoa.

It's the kind of stuff Hallmark movies are made of. It's perfect.

Except it's hard to relax when tension is radiating off of Mikhail like nuclear fallout.

I slide closer to him, my knees curled against his strong thigh. "I like staring into a fire as much as the next person, but you're not staring into it." I reach over and trace the deep line etched between his brows. "It looks like you're trying to become one with it. I'm a little worried you're going Johnny Flame on me and this whole cabin is about to be reduced to ashes."

Mikhail doesn't move. "It's just work stuff. I'm fine."

If his goal was to end my line of questioning, he'll have to try a lot harder than that.

"What work stuff?" I press, trying to hide the tinge of panic in my voice. "Are we still safe here?"

Finally, he drags his eyes from the crackling hearth to meet mine. "I'll keep you safe, Viviana. I can handle your father."

"So this is about my father?"

He shakes his head.

I want to scream. No—I want to drill into his brain and pour his thoughts out into a sifting pan so I can sort through the mess. It seems to be the only way to get to the root of what he's thinking.

"You seemed fine earlier. Did you get a call while I was putting Dante to bed? Was it Raoul or Anatoly? What's happening back at the mansion?"

Mikhail brushes his thumb across my lips. "It's nothing for you to worry about. Everything is fine."

I nip at his finger with my teeth and then snatch his hand away from my mouth.

"Except for you," I point out. "You're not fine. There's something going on in that handsome head of yours, and I want to know what it is."

He smirks. "Handsome, huh?"

"Don't act like you don't know it." I roll my eyes. "Now, is this about our safety? Or Dante? What happened in the woods today?"

"Nothing happened. He's a good kid, Viviana. You've done a good job with him."

He's distracting me with compliments, but I'm just vain enough to let him. "Thanks."

"Once he gets a proper education, he'll be on the right track."

Suddenly, I'm the tense one. Five seconds ago, I was starting to sweat under my fleece blanket. Now, I'm cold as ice.

"He loves Mrs. Steinman," I add woodenly.

"She's fine for now," Mikhail agrees, refusing to meet my eyes. "But there are good schools he could attend. Good programs where he'll learn to be independent and?—"

"Never mind," I blurt.

Mikhail looks at me, that pesky line pinched between his brows again. "Hm?"

"I've changed my mind. I don't want to talk about this." My heart is racing like I just ran a marathon and all I want to do is stop. All of this. Now.

Bringing up the boarding school conversation has been at the top of my to-do list for the past week, but I've been pushing it for more important tasks. Tasks like… doing literally anything else in the world aside from having that conversation.

"Why not?"

"It's like throwing a turd in a swimming pool."

A startled laugh bursts out of him, and yes, I want to scream, let's go down this path instead. The one that ends with Mikhail smiling at me.

"I just mean, we're having a good time here, aren't we?"

Mikhail nods. "We are."

"So let's not ruin it with shitty conversations and fighting."

He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "You think it will end in a fight?"

"A big one," I confirm. "Atomic. There will be casualties."

"I'd never hurt you, Viviana."

I trail my hand up his thigh. "Cute for you to think you'd be the one doing the hurting."

He snorts, but I'll do anything to keep this little family of mine together. I won't let him send Dante away.

I shove the dark thought away and focus on the way his body feels under my hand. "Things will get ugly, so I think we should skip the fight and go straight to making up."

Mikhail watches my hand slide higher and higher up his leg. As I trail my fingers over the seam of his pants, he spreads his thighs slightly.

"I'll take that as your agreement?"

Mikhail grabs my waist and lifts me onto his lap. "Stop talking or we'll be in a very different kind of hand-to-hand combat."

I arch a brow. "Then you better keep my hands busy."

He grips my neck, his fingers pressing into my spine while his thumb settles over my pulse. When his lips press against mine, I'm sure he can feel my heart rate pick up. It's why his lips are tilted into a smug smile.

That smile is why I pull away so I'm kneeling on the floor between his legs.

Finally, a flicker of surprise.

"That was a good idea," I tell him, dragging his zipper down slowly, "but I had something else in mind."

He's already rock hard and I have to fight through a fresh wave of nerves when I pull him free of his boxers.

I lean forward and his cock twitches in anticipation. When I press a kiss to the base of him, his thighs flex.

I drag my tongue along his underside, pressing wet kisses everywhere except the swollen head of him. That's on purpose. After a few passes, Mikhail knows it.

"Viviana…" he warns, fisting a hand in the hair at the base of my neck.

His corded neck is taut. There are red splotches high on his chiseled cheeks. He looks like he's seconds away from popping an aneurysm.

"Huh?" I mumble, too busy flicking my tongue along his length to enunciate. I stop short of where he's shiny from precum and meet his eyes.

They are black and searing.

"Don't give me that innocent, doe-eyed look," he growls. "You know what you're doing. You also want it as much as I do."

He's not wrong. Teasing him has left my panties a mess.

"Now," he orders, wrapping my hair around his fist in a makeshift ponytail, "open that pretty mouth and let me fuck it."

I want him too much to even attempt to argue. I press up onto my knees and take him between my lips.

Everything in Mikhail relaxes as soon as he's in my mouth. He groans, his hold on my hair loosening and his head tipping back against the couch.

He's fucked me out of my own head more than enough times. It's only right I do the same for him.

I wrap my hand around his base, pumping in time with my mouth. When I glance up, Mikhail is watching me again. He brushes his thumb over my cheek, eyes glazed over as he watches me work. When he starts lifting his hips in time with my movements, I remove my hand and take as much of him as I can into my mouth.

My eyes water when he touches the back of my throat, but the awe written on his face is all the motivation I need to stay there.

"Fuck, Viviana." He palms the front of my neck. "You look so good swallowing my cock."

I pull back for a breath, but before I can take him again, Mikhail lifts me up and settles me on his lap.

"Hey," I complain, wiggling against the erection pressed firmly against my ass. "I wasn't done."

Mikhail captures my mouth, silencing my argument with his tongue. Then he lifts me over him and slides deep inside of me, silencing any further arguments.

I moan, arching back as he stretches me. The second he's seated inside of me, he hooks my useless legs over his shoulders and stands up.

I yelp and cling to his neck, but Mikhail doesn't falter. He holds me like I weigh nothing and bounces me against him.

A string of incoherent curse words rush out of me. Somehow, I went from being in control to not being able to move a single muscle… And I've never been happier.

All I can do is cling to Mikhail's thick shoulders as he grips my hips and slams me against him again and again. The sound of slapping skin and my cries echoes around the room.

"Take off your shirt," he orders, still pistoning in and out of me.

I'm nervous to let go of him, but Mikhail has a tight hold on me. I lean back, at a perfect ninety-degree angle from his body, and ease his XL t-shirt over my head.

A strangled sound works out of his chest and he pulls my body against his. My legs slip from his shoulders, but I cinch them around his waist before they fall to the floor. He stumbles forward and sandwiches me between his chest and the wall, never slowing his thrusts.

"You're so fucking perfect." He dips his head to suck my breast into his mouth and I slide my fingers into his hair.

My body is in a frenzy, clawing at him and drawing him closer, but I've never felt more at peace.

"I love you," I gasp. I've already said the words before, but I still tense as they leave my lips. Every muscle in my body tightens and Mikhail growls against my neck.

"Again," he demands, his teeth scraping over my skin.

"I love you," I repeat, clenching around him again.

I say the words and tighten around his cock until he's glistening with sweat and shaking in my arms.

I'm on the edge, but I want Mikhail to fall first. I press my lips to his ear. "This pussy is yours. Fill it up."

His hips stutter and he roars as he pumps into me.

I feel him twitch deep inside of me and, suddenly, the clenching is beyond my control. My orgasm milks Mikhail's until we're both spent. Until we have no choice but to sink to the floor in a pile of sweaty limbs.

"Well, did we make up?" he asks a few minutes later, pressing a lazy kiss to my peaked nipple.

I throw my arm over my eyes and nod. "With interest. I think we can skip the makeup sex portion of the next five fights, at least."

"You think we'll fight five more times?"

"Maybe by tomorrow," I laugh. The sound cuts off sharply when he slides his tongue down the center of my stomach. "What are you doing?"

"You know I like to be prepared." He grips my thighs and presses them apart roughly. His warm breath tickles over my sensitive skin. "We should bank a few more, at least. Get ahead."

He lowers his mouth to me and we make up for hours.