We arrive at the theater, and I see Kervyn standing on the carpet, running up the stairs. The door opens, and he holds his hand out to me. He’s dressed in a fine tuxedo, and I’m surprised at how good he looks. It’s almost as though I’m looking at him for the first time all over again.

Our eyes lock, and I blush as he says. “You have a good eye for dresses. All eyes will be on you as the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I retort.

“I want you to behave,” he murmurs, kissing my hand and then leaning forward to kiss my lips.

I return the kiss lightly, and several people around us gush.

I loop my arm through his, and walk upstairs with him as several people take photos of us. The flashes going off startle me, but he keeps a tight hold on me so I don’t trip up.

“I like your hair up. You have a beautiful face. You shouldn’t hide behind your hair,” he comments as we join the queue to get in.

“Thank you. I assume we’re in the crowd tonight,” I comment, looking around.

“I have a private box.” He smiles, waving and greeting a few people across the room.

“Of course you do,” I murmur.

We make our way through a hallway, up some stairs, and to the end, where we sit in a box. I look around and smile.

“Are you excited?” he asks, tilting his head to look at me.

“No.” I blush.

“Even if you hate me, you can enjoy something I take you to. Russian opera is beautiful and heart-wrenching. It’s about love and loss, but how it was worth loving anyway.”

He settles a hand on my leg, and I want to push it away, but I promised and want to see Asher, so I rest my hand on his, lacing our fingers together.

After everyone is settled, the music starts, and the curtain opens. I watch in awe but knit my eyebrows cause I don’t quite know what’s going on. Kervyn must notice because I hear a chuckle, and he leans toward me. “She’s declaring her love for our dear hero. Saying she will die with him. Think something along the lines of the English play Romeo and Juliet. Warring families, except, in this case, it’s a class basis. He is poor but brave, and she is a princess.”

I nod and listen as he tells me what they’re singing about. It’s a moment before I notice I’m absentmindedly stroking his leg.

“Not too far up,” he says suddenly, “or you’ll start something you don’t want to finish.”

I feel flushed as I realize what he means, and I can’t help but glance down to see he is bulging through his pants. I blush and meet his eyes. I don’t know if it’s the love story of the opera, the way his voice sounds describing everything, or maybe it’s the pregnancy, but I feel very aroused.

“Unless that’s what you want…” he murmurs, leaning down to press his lips against mine. I return the kiss.

I pull away. “People can see.”

He reaches over, pulls on a rope, and the curtains on either side of our box swing closed, and an automatic but dim light comes on.

He turns and kisses me harder, and I moan softly. I don’t want this, do I?

I remember that night of passion, and suddenly, I feel his hand searching for the bottom of my dress. He finds it and reaches up my skirt, sliding his hand between my legs. I can’t help myself, I spread my legs.

I reach down and grope him gently through his pants and swear he growls into my mouth. He breaks our kiss and starts pulling his jacket off.

“Kervyn, we shouldn’t,” I murmur.

“We’re betrothed, so we should.” He moves and kneels in front of me, pushing my skirt right up. He buries his face between my legs, and through my underwear, he begins to do that thing with his tongue. He twists it, and the tip of his tongue gently rolls my swollen clit.

I arch my back, and his hand trails up my side and gropes my breast through the dress.

I whimper softly, and he shushes me. I try not to giggle, and then I try desperately not to moan. Muffled by the curtain, the sad operatic ballad is the soundtrack to his mouth pleasuring me. After I’m thoroughly soaked, he gets up and starts to undo his pants.

“I’m not sure how we’re going to make this work…” he murmurs.

I get up and hike my skirt around my waste. I kneel on the seat with my exposed ass in the air. “When in doubt.”

He chuckles, and I glance back. I forgot how thick he is. How did that fit inside of me last time?

He moves my soaking panties out of the way and rubs between my lips and then around the head of his cock.

I brace myself on my arms on the chair, and he slowly pushes into me. I know I shouldn’t want this, but as he enters me, I feel like my world is the right way around. I shudder in pleasure as he holds my hips and starts moving in and out of me.

I breathe heavily. I don’t think my body isn’t built to be in this position for long, but I don’t care. Right now, all I care about is Kervyn’s really solid dick shagging the shit out of me.

I use one hand to reach between my legs and play with my nub as he moves. I toss my head back, a light film of sweat forming on my body. He moves a little harder, and suddenly he spanks my bare ass cheek. I groan, shuddering again in pleasure.

“The opera is almost done,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss my shoulder and then nibble at it.

“You can finish now. I’ll finish at home,” I say. Where did that come from?

The comment seems to have quite the effect on him as he moves quickly in and out of me, his hands groping and massaging my ass cheeks hard. It’s almost as though he wants to pile drive into me but, at the same time, wants to be delicate. He holds my hips and pumps his hips hard before grunting and burying himself deep inside of me. I can feel his semen escaping even as he’s filling me. That’s probably why I got pregnant, the man is virile as hell.

There is applause outside the curtain, and we separate. We quickly gather ourselves together and burst out giggling once we’re dressed again. He hands me a handkerchief to clean myself and then tucks it away, offering me his arm. My panties are soaking.

I shouldn’t have enjoyed that rough little tryst as much as I did.

Chapter 11 - Kervyn

Zahkar is being a little too friendly with Penny. I don’t like it. I’m not an idiot. I’m well aware that Zak has always been jealous that he isn’t the head of the family, and he’s always wanted what was mine. I need to clear that up with him. He isn’t allowed to flirt with Penny. I feel an innate rage when I think about him cozying up to my fiance. As the days slowly pass by, I watch as Zakhar touches her lower back or her hair. It’s incredibly frustrating because she doesn’t come near me.

Since our little affair at the theater, she’s been avoiding me like the plague, claiming to be sick with a stomach bug or have pregnancy blues to get out of most of our meals together, and she generally only eats with me if one of my brothers or Zak is there. I don’t know why she’s so embarrassed by what we did. She certainly seemed to be enjoying it.

I go over it in my head, over and over again. Did I force her? No. I’m not that way inclined. I like it rough, and certainly, our first encounter was something to rival most vampire movies when it comes to biting, but she hasn’t complained about any pleasure I’ve given her. Not even she denies we’ve got excellent sexual chemistry.

But Zakhar is playing a dangerous game. He is trying to touch what is mine. You want to touch something that is not yours, play stupid games, and win stupid prizes. But touch something, or someone, who belongs to me, and it’s more than a foolish game. It’s a death wish.

The worst part is that Penny seems endeared by his charming way, which frustrates me even more. I’ve lavished her with praise, compliments, and luxurious gifts, but she can’t seem to get past the fact that I rule the Vegas Bratva. Yet she speaks to my cousin, who has probably physically killed more people than I have.

I wait for Penny to leave the breakfast table to stop Zak from getting up. “We need to talk.”

Zak sits back down with a smile. “Sure, how can I help?”

“Stay away from Penny,” I say shortly. “I don’t like how you’re flirting with her, and I don’t trust your intentions. She is my fiance and pregnant with my child.”