If Gavril noticed my silence, he didn’t say anything. But he also didn’t let go of my hand all the way to the theater, even helping me out when we arrived. “Is this it?” I asked, staring up at the stately building before us.
“Yes,” Gavril supplied as he led me up the short flight of stairs and into the lobby.
“Oh my God,” I breathed as I looked at the stunning architecture before me. “This is beautiful.” It was clearly a very old building, the stately beauty withstanding the test of time.
Gavril slipped his arm around my waist, and I leaned into him. If I must be Sveta, then I would play the part convincingly.
“Come,” he said after a few minutes of letting me soak in the grand entrance. “Let’s go to our seats.”
I allowed Gavril to lead me up the stairs to the second level, and we were escorted through a velvet curtain to a cozy private box with a full view of the stage below. I moved to the railing and looked down, shocked that not only was I going to take in the performance tonight, but I was going to do it in style. “This is your private booth, isn’t it?” I asked, turning back to Gavril.
He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets as he watched me through emotionless eyes. “It is. The Kirilenko family are patrons of the arts, and our patronage comes with perks like this.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was a patron because of his lost chance to perform here. “Can I ask you a question?”
He inclined his head. “Of course you can.”
I closed the distance between us. “Will you let our future children be part of the arts, or will you also require them to turn away from their dreams?”
Gavril’s jaw clenched. “What do you think, Sveta?”
Sveta. Sveta. Sveta.
I hated that name with a passion!
“I think,” I said softly, flicking the imaginary lint from his broad shoulder. “That you will allow them to follow their dreams.”
His eyes widened just a hair, and I touched his cheek before turning back to the chairs that were in the box. I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to be his father or his mother. He could challenge the norm.
Gavril joined me as the lights dimmed and the music swelled, quieting the crowd. When the curtain rose, the orchestra began tuning from the pit. Strings and brass and woodwinds rose in a cacophony of notes until they harmonized. Finally, the conductor took his place, raised his hands, and silence descended into the theater.
Then the lights dimmed and the music rose, softly at first, each note deliberate and fraught with emotion.
When the dancers moved on stage, I found myself caught up in the action before me, gasping as they moved gracefully, almost as if they were floating through the air.
“What do you think?” Gavril’s lips found my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
“It’s lovely,” I breathed as I felt his hand slide under my skirt and touch my bare knee. “What are you doing, Gavril?”
He chuckled, his lips touching my bare shoulder. “Relax and enjoy the show, my love.”
My throat tightened at his term of endearment. Was he speaking to Naomi or Sveta? I wanted to believe that he was speaking to Naomi at this moment, and that thought gave me hope, hope that I didn’t know if I could hold on to.
His long fingers brushed over my center, and I parted my legs to give him better access, my nipples tightening painfully. My breathing became ragged as he slid his finger past the small scrap of lace and directly into my wet, inviting warmth.
“You must remain quiet,” he whispered, hot breath tickling my ear. “Or they will make us leave.”
I clenched the armrests with my hands as Gavril started to move his finger, his thumb pressing against my swollen numb lazily. He seemed to play me like an instrument, his skilled fingers brushing over the aching parts of me while his finger moved in and out of me to the tune of the music, pushing in with each crescendo and pulling out in time with every decrescendo.
“Gavril,” I gasped as I felt the heat start to build. “Please.”
“Please what?” he murmured, his beard chafing my shoulder as his other hand slipped underneath my bra, rolling my sensitive nipples between his devilish fingers. “Tell me what you want.”
“I…I want,” I told him, biting my lower lip to keep from crying out.
“Tell me.” He bit my shoulder lightly, the sensation sending goose bumps rising through my body. “Tell me what you want.”
My legs fell open and he thrust in and out of me lightly, teasing me closer and closer to the edge.
“I want,” I gasped. “I want to come all over your fingers,” I answered in a rush of breath.
Gavril’s low growl sent shivers down my spine. “Then come. Embrace it.”
His finger buried deeper inside of me as his hand pressed against my swollen clit. His other hand continued to massage my breast, and I felt a tremble from deep within my core. A whimper escaped, and he crushed his lips against mine to silence my moans.
I was helpless to stop him. We were in a public place, yet it felt so right.
I opened my legs further to give him better access, and the music picked up the pace. His tongue darted into my mouth as his scent filled my nose. He devoured my cries of pleasure as my trembles grew out of control. My ears began ringing as the orchestra swelled in time with my own orgasm. A rousing round of applause rose up as I slumped into my seat, whimpering and gasping for breath.
“Gorgeous,” he said as he removed his fingers from me and licked them clean. I reached for him, but he just smirked and captured my hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before resting it on his knee. We sat like that for the rest of the performance and by the time we got in the car to leave, I could barely keep my hands off him.
“Anatoly,” he barked as I slid into the cool interior. “Find another way home.”
Anatoly chuckled, and I felt my cheeks heat. “Yes, Pakhan.”
Gavril shut the door and raised the privacy panel as the car started to move. I slid my shoes off before straddling him and cupping his face with my hands.
“That was beautiful,” I said softly, feeling the scrape of his beard against the palm of my hands. “Thank you.”