Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox Page 0,69

pensive. “I don’t want to worry you.”

“Too late.”

He frowns, and I realize his beard has been growing in. His stubble has turned to a golden coat across his square jaw, and his hair is longer, too. Unable to resist, I reach out and stroke my fingers through it. Viktor closes his eyes and sighs.

“You and Theo are both safe, but I think I have a traitor in the Bratva.”

“You already knew some of your men weren’t loyal, though. They left to be with Fedor.”

“Not all of them, apparently.” He falls back into the couch cushions and pulls me with him, tucking me into his side. “I think someone told Fedor where we would be meeting with the Irish and where the photo shoot would be. I’ve been trying to keep information limited to only a few people, but it is still getting out.”

“That’s why you asked about Petr working with Fedor at the photo shoot,” I say, remembering his accusations. “You think it is Petr?”

He shrugs, looking more defeated than I’ve ever seen him. “I don’t know. That’s what Seamus and I were doing before dinner. George caught Petr going to an Italian lieutenant’s house day after day for weeks, but Petr claims he was only there because he is having an affair with the wife.”

“Do you believe him?” I ask.

“George texted me during dinner to say that he found compromising pictures of Petr and the woman on Petr’s phone, so they are having an affair, but I’m not sure if that is the extent of it.”

“It has to be,” I say. “I mean, what kind of man would work with his wife’s lover? If the Italian lieutenant knew, he’d kill Petr.”

“I guess.”

“Think about it,” I say, draping my leg over Viktor’s thigh. “Would you work with a man I was sleeping with?”

His hand tightens on my waist, and he pulls me squarely onto his lap. When he answers, his voice is a growl. “No.”

“Then, there you go.” I poke my finger into his chest and then drag it down, admiring the patch of golden hair sticking out of the top of his shirt.

“Either way, Petr is locked up until I know for sure,” Viktor sighs.

I lay my head on his chest and breathe in the woodsy scent of him. “Then don’t worry about it right now.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” His strong arm wraps around my back, caging me in.

I turn my face and press my lips to his neck. “Let’s just live in the afterglow of our successful dinner for a little bit longer. Let’s be normal for tonight.”

“Normal?” Viktor scoffs. “You couldn’t be normal if you tried.”

I sit up, frowning, and he immediately smooths the lines in my forehead with the pad of his thumb. “I mean, you are far too extraordinary to ever be normal, Molly.”

“Yes,” I whisper, twisting so I’m straddling his legs. “That is what I’m talking about. Let’s forget about traitors and wars and Bratva life for a minute and focus on this.”

Viktor must agree with my idea because his lips are on mine in an instant, warm and soft. I melt against him. My arms wrap around his neck, and my fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck.

The kiss starts slow but builds quickly. Viktor’s hands are strong on my hips, holding me against him, and I arch into his touch, wanting more of him.

This has always been the easy part with Viktor. Touching him and being touched by him is as simple as breathing. I don’t need to think about it or plan my next move. It feels like something my body was naturally made to do.

When I feel his hardness between us, I instinctively roll my hips, and Viktor groans. He bucks against me, finding more friction.

His hands slip down my body and then slide up my skin, bunching my nightgown as they go. His fingertips trail fire, and I’m itching by the time his hands encircle my waist. The light brushes of skin aren’t enough. They are a drop of water after a week in the desert. They are a crumb of food after I’ve been starving.

I need more.

“More?” Viktor breathes the word against my skin as he kisses his way up my ribs. I didn’t realize I’d said anything out loud.

“More,” I sigh, rolling my hips against him again.

Viktor responds by ripping my nightgown over my head and unhooking my bra. When my breasts bounce free, he presses them together, savoring the view