Claim
17
Kira could hardly believe it.
He was happy. Truly happy.
She’d dared to hope he would be satisfied, but happy had seemed too much to hope for. Now, lying in Lyon’s arms with the sounds of the city rumbling below, she let it sink in.
He loved her. And he was happy about their baby.
He kissed the top of her head. “Did you sleep well?”
“Hmm-mmm. You?”
“Very.”
He’d made love to her slowly when they got back to the suite, with a tenderness he’d never before shown her. She’d been worried it would be a side effect of her pregnancy, that he would treat her like a piece of glass in bed when she’d come to enjoy his frenzied roughness.
But she shouldn’t have worried. The second time he’d taken her had been full of urgency and possession, as if he’d been trying to claim every inch of her body as his. When he was done, he’d spread his hand over her stomach and looked into her eyes.
“Mine.” He moved his hand lower to cover her mound, wet from their lovemaking. “Mine.”
She’d pushed her hand into his thick hair. “Yours.”
She adjusted her position and looked up at him. He was tousled, his eyes a little sleepy, with the faintest dusting of scruff on his jawline. “You owe me.”
He looked startled in the moment before a slow grin spread across his mouth. “I’m sure I owe you many things. Can you be more specific?”
“I said I loved you on the street, right there in front of all those people, in nothing but a robe no less.”
His grin widened. “I remember.”
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly embarrassed. “You haven’t said it back.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. He pulled her on top of him so that she was stretched out over his body. His thick cock nudged against her clit and lust sparked to life in her belly all over again.
He lifted his head from the pillow to kiss her. “You little fool. Of course, I love you. I’ve loved you for ages.”
She slapped at his chest. “You might have told me sooner. We could have avoided some of our… misunderstandings.”
“You must admit,” he said, “some of our… misunderstandings were quite entertaining.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, husband. I’m sure we’ll have plenty more in the days ahead.”
He squeezed her ass and nudged his cock between her thighs.
She moaned and sat up to straddle him, wriggled to nestle his cock between her folds.
He slapped her ass and she squealed. “You’re a very naughty girl, Kira Antonov.”
She liked the sound of their combined names on his lips, but she liked it even more when he lifted her hips and settled her onto the tip of his cock, thrusting upward to settle deep inside her.
She watched him while she rode him, leaning back to observe their joined bodies moving together until they both came hard and fast.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him and he pulled her back into his arms.
“I’m going to order room service,” he said lazily. “Unless you’d rather go out.”
“Let’s stay in,” she said. “I don’t want to see anyone but you.”
His laughter rumbled through his chest. So much had changed in the last twenty-four hours.
He was right: she was a little fool. She should have told him about the baby ages ago, should have trusted that what was between them was more than lust.
They’d talked into the wee hours of the morning — about their future, the baby they hoped would be the first of many, business, Lyon’s mother.
He’d told her the truth: that Aksana was working against him, that he’d come to New York to see if the Syndicate’s cyber lab could turn up anything on the source of Aksana’s money.
It made Kira hate the woman even more. How could she betray her own son?
“Should we ask your mother to leave?” Kira said.
“Do you want her to leave?” Lyon asked.
“Of course, I want her to leave. She’s a traitor. But she’s also your mother.”
He was quiet for a moment, as if considering the question. “It’s not pleasant having her in the house, so I’ll leave the final decision to you, but right now…”
“Right now?” she prodded.
“Right now I’m thinking it’s better that she’s somewhere we can watch her,” he said.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”