Kit Prince

Ilyas started to set up the kitchen. He pulled out pans, chopping boards, utensils. By now, he was quite acquainted here. He knew where to find what he needed. It was almost like being at home, apart from that fact that being at home anywhere still gave him the creeps. Not because he didn't want to, but because he knew it could all be over in the blink of an eye.

He still listened to Kit talking while he prepared, though, and took a moment's pause at her comment about the guardian angel, his brow furrowing lightly. "That so? Where is that mother fucker? He better not touch my dog." He joked. Of course. Ilyas didn't really know how to deal with anything without either joking or getting angry.

Then he shrugged. "Can't blame them." He rummaged around in a cabinet. "Never considered living over there? I mean, if I had kids--" He'd want to be close to them, but.. He was glad he didn't have to finish that sentence.

With everything set up, he finally turned back to her. "Shchi." He gave a small nod, as if what he said was completely obvious and didn't need further explanation.

"My kids are grown - Jack is eighteen and Poppy is twenty-two. They don't need me as much as they used to and, probably don't even want me hanging around, trying to be the 'cool mum' anymore. Plus the money I can make here is insane. There are a lot of very strange people here in New York" she surmised with a knowing nod.

"Shchi.....that's um.......cabbage and potato soup, right? My Bubbe used to make something similar, called 'zupa z młodej kapusty' - and yes I know that pronunciation is terrible but too many years of English boarding school will train all the Yiddish affectations out of you" she grinned, sitting up a little now as she felt guilty over Ilyas doing all of the work.

An eyebrow raised when Kit drank the whole glass almost in one go, which was not for her. He was drying glasses and when she said that she needed to go, he gave her a small smile. He almost let her go, he had almost succeeded in not making more of this than it should be.

He stepped closer, letting his hand trace the curve of her hip, feeling of warmth from her skin beneath his fingers from her shower still lingering. His eyes met hers, and in their depths, he saw not the ice queen the world knew, but the woman who had chosen to be vulnerable with him tonight.

"You don't know what that means to me," he murmured, nudging his nose against hers, the simple intimacy of the gesture speaking volumes. When his lips found hers, he kissed her slowly, savoring the taste of her, the warmth of her breath mingling with his.

His hand traveled upward along her body, feeling the subtle changes in texture—the soft give of her waist, the gentle slope of her ribs, the delicate bones of her shoulders. When he smiled against her mouth, it wasn't a politician's calculated expression but something far more genuine. Something only she ever saw.

Henry traced the line of her collarbone with his thumb, feeling the pulse that beat there, so alive and present.The mask had slipped, revealing the woman who had once agreed to a political arrangement and was now offering something far more genuine.

"Remember when we first started this?" he asked, his voice low in the intimacy of their bedroom. "The dinner parties where we'd barely touch, but later..." He let his words trail off as his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer against him with a pleasurable hum of skin against skin and the heat rising between them.

Her body yielded to him, fitting against his with that perfect alignment they'd discovered through months of exploration. “ How things have changed…” Henry said, his voice dropping to that intimate register as he guided her backward toward their bed, his eyes never leaving hers even as he moved to lift her legs to wrap around his waist. Unable to keep his eyes from her gaze.

He lowered her onto the bed, his weight a comfortable pressure against her. His lips found hers again, hungry but tender. "I knew you'd come to me like this eventually," Henry whispered against her mouth, a slight chuckle escaping as he broke their kiss.

"I knew one day you'd crumble those walls to this. To us and allow me in." The political arena had taught him how to read people, to spot vulnerabilities and opportunities. But with Kit, he didn't need strategy but simply needed to be present, to let the mask fall away completely.

When her father had declared he knew what was best for herm that she should bow to his will, Kit had made it her mission to do the exact opposite in order to prove him wrong. Then her late husband, he told her she was his property, that he owned her. She shown him that would never truly happen.

Now Henry had spoken words along similar lines, but in no way of a similar itention - this was caring, reciprocal. It wasn't authority at all. It was understanding. Acceptance. The thing she had craved her entire life.

It made her safe.

And still.......

"You can't ever leave me or betray me, Henry". It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact. "I don't handle it well. What you said.......about the crumbling. it's true but with that, with my guard being down now, there's the side of me that gets.......possessive".

The papers. They made up lies, everyone in this game knew it. And they would just love to spin a yarn about the handsome PM with some floozy junior staffer. In her mind's eye, Kit could already imagine the headlines and how she would react to it.

She pulled back a little, head resting on her hand so she could look at him seriously.

Send 🥪❓ to find out what kind of sandwich my muse would make for yours or if they would make one to begin with

@kit-just-kit

“Well…perhaps we could give an anonymous tip to MI5 for them to take a closer look at him…” Gareth mused, a mischievous little smirk tugging on his lips. It was wrong, of course it was. But Sebastian was an asshole, and Kit had gone through enough already, hadn’t she? And MI5 didn’t need to know who the tip had come from… It wouldn’t even be one to make Sebastian out as a terrorist or anything. Just…a possible threat for London. And in some way, he was. He was a troublemaker, after all.

"Oh Kal's good, as always. Mum keeps hassling him about grandchildren but.....no, it's never going to happen with him. I keep meaning to have 'the conversation' with her and dad about him but, in truth I just can't risk breaking their hearts if he isn't a hunfred percent straight. Also, he's not really confirmed as much to me himself so......I mean, I've seen him with women, heard about women, but only very fleetingly and never anything serious.....".

Gareth probably did not want all that detail and he definately didn;t ask for it, she realised.

With business finished, it doesn't take long to find himself wrapped around her. Not that he had been actively looking for it, he just knew how things went by now. Not that he was complaining, the way she was after seeing him work was something else and in the end it benefited the both of them. Hands wandered, feeling each other's skin on skin. It hadn't even occurred to him that he'd ruin her dress, not until it all was done and he could be of clear mind. That and seeing her change into an entirely new outfit. All he could do was clean off just enough and pull himself together before she had gotten out of the limo. Rolling his head from side to side, he followed behind and stepped out.

Mainly she was more attrached to immense wealth, power or the ability of a man to rip another's head from his neck. But she had to admit, some of those physical ones had their benefit when they teamed with the skills Leon possessed. Plus she had sufficient power and wealth already. At least for now.