Maykl
Ravil has a deceiving manner of appearing laid-back. Casual. As if he couldn’t order your murder with a wave of his finger.
Now, his hands are tucked in the pockets of his designer slacks, his button-down is open at the throat. Behind him stand Maxim and Nikolai.
I make an attempt to appear equally casual. “What can I do for you, Pakhan?”
Ravil blinks once. Twice. The silence is excruciating. Then he says, “You can tell me what’s going on with the woman in your apartment.”
I attempt to swallow and fail.
There’s nothing that can be done. No way I can keep any of this from him. Kira is working with the FBI. My boss may kill her. Her fate is out of my hands now.
I go for brief and direct. “I allowed her to enter the building the night before last. She came to Chicago to claim her dead sister’s body and find her nephew. That much is true. But what I didn’t know until recently is that she is politsiya working with the FBI in exchange for information about her nephew.”
Ravil tips his head to look past me. “Where is she now?”
“Zip tied to my bed.”
Nikolai’s brows flick ever-so-slightly. Maxim’s lips twitch.
But Ravil is unamused. “When were you going to tell me about this situation?”
Heat prickles up the back of my neck.
In the bratva, betraying a brother is cause for death. In my experience, this rule can be invoked for the slightest transgression. Many things can and have been construed as betrayals.
Certainly, my allowing Kira to infiltrate and bug our building could be seen as more than a failure to do my duty. It could be seen as a betrayal of my brothers.
I steel my chest like a soldier in the military rather than a crime organization. “Immediately. I’ve been interrogating her this afternoon.”
Ravil raises his brows as if he doesn’t believe me.
I absorb the gaze without flinching. Showing him I am still loyal, despite my fuck-up.
“She’s secure? Can you leave her?”
I nod.
“Come to my office.”
“Get her phone or any electronics she brought with her,” Nikolai says.
They wait for me as I get her purse and phone.
In the elevator, I put my fingers to my lips, searching for the bug. I find it behind the handrail. A tiny green light indicates it’s on.
I hand it to Nikolai, who inspects it, then turns it off.
Maxim rummages through her purse. Nikolai takes the phone and discovers a handful more bugs in the sleeve on her case. I was an idiot not to find them.
Blyad’. Does that mean the FBI overheard the entire conversation I just had with Kira?
But no, the bugs in her phone are not lit with the same green light. They haven’t been turned on.
Maxim inspects Kira’s politsiya badge and her passport.
“You used the truth serum on her?” Maxim asks.
I nod. “I couldn’t bring myself to torture her. She is…” What? Heartbreakingly beautiful? Has me wrapped around her finger? “A small thing,” I finish lamely.
Nikolai rolls his eyes. “You mean you fucked her, and now you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”
I bristle, but Nikolai is my superior. I can’t tell him to fuck off, much as I’d like to.
“Did you?” Ravil asks in that mild manner of his.
I grit my teeth and nod.
When we get to the top floor, Ravil points at the bug in Nikolai’s hand. “Turn it back on and leave it in the hallway. If they don’t know we’ve found them yet, I’d like to keep it that way.”
Nikolai does so, placing it above the doorway to the penthouse.
Inside, I hear Sasha’s voice from a bedroom, as if she’s talking on the phone.
The nanny plays with Benjamin on the carpet.
We all follow Ravil to his spacious office and pull up chairs. Nikolai opens a laptop, and his twin, Dima joins the conference via video feed.
Ravil steeples his fingers together. “Tell me.”
I give the entire story, beginning with Kira showing up after closing time and ending with everything I just learned from my interrogation, excluding the fact that I executed her father.
“Plug her phone in to upload the contents,” Dima requests, and Nikolai, seeming to understand what his twin needs, plugs the phone in and activates some kind of program.
Ravil opens his phone and makes a call.
“Alex?” Ravil addresses our insider at the FBI. A young man who shot Nikolai and wanted to kill Ravil last year because he believed Ravil had killed his father. It turned out to be a misunderstanding. Ravil spared his life and now owns the young man.
“I have a Russian policewoman here, Kira Koslova. She says she’s working with the FBI. She planted bugs in my building.”
Ravil listens for a while, staring at me the entire time. I’m sweating, but I remain as stoic as I know how under his gaze. When he ends the call he says, “There’s no warrant, nor is there documentation about Kira being an asset.”
“She could be a pocket asset,” Nikolai says, referring to spies who are kept out of the system for various reasons.
The clack and clatter of Dima’s keys comes through the video feed. “Everything Maykl reports can be verified except the FBI involvement. I did find one very interesting piece of information, though.”
“What’s that?” Maxim asks.
“Her boss is a pocket asset.”
“To the FBI?”
“No. Moscow bratva.”
“Ah.” Ravil sits back in his chair, relaxing as if this was good news, rather than bad. “So, Kuznets is coming after me now.”
“Or after Sasha.” Maxim appears murderous.
“So what do they have, exactly?” Ravil prompts.
“My security code and four bugs,” I say.
“Hang on,” Dima says. “I’m checking her sent messages. Looks like the recipient is in the same geolocation.”
“Stepanov is here in Chicago?” Maxim asks.
“Yes,” Dima says. “Stand by for her texts.” The screen flashes and loads with a string of messages that didn’t appear on Kira’s phone when I looked.
They include photos of the lobby, elevators, and stairwell, as well as of the underground parking entrance and HVAC system.
“So. Kira’s police boss told her if she becomes their insider here, the FBI will help her locate her missing nephew,” Ravil says. He looks at me. “She doesn’t know her boss is in the bratva’s pocket?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She hates the bratva. And she cried over her missing nephew while on the truth serum. Her grief seemed real.”
“Did you find anything about the nephew?” Nikolai asks his twin.
“I have an idea about the boy,” Ravil says.
“What is it?” asks Maxim.
“Vladimir. His cell was wiped out by the Tacone crime Family, remember?” Ravil directs his words to Maxim. “He worked under Victor. A different branch of the brava.”
Maxim nods. “Ah, yes. He ended up marrying into the Italian mafia in a strange turn of fate.”
“Yes. He kidnapped their sister for revenge but then later claimed her. His cell must have been the one Anya and her son came over with, and I believe he has two adopted Russian children. Perhaps this boy is one of them. I’ll make a call to find out.”
Even though I’m in no position to ask questions or make demands, I have to ask. “What about Kira?” I ask.
Ravil considers. “When was the last call from her cell phone?” he asks Dima.
“Tuesday afternoon.
“So that was before you caught her in the lobby,” Ravil says.
“Yes.”
“Kuznets may not know she’s been made. We can use that to our advantage.”
“Absolutely,” Maxim says. “We can lure them in and get them on our own turf.”
“So, Maykl, you sit on Kira. We will use the bugs and her cell phone to draw them in.” He tips his head at Nikolai. “Get him handcuffs and chains. I don’t want her getting away.”
Nikolai moves toward the door, but I don’t get up. “What about…after? What happens to Kira?”
Ravil sharpens his voice, the first outward sign of his irritation with me. “I’ll deal with her then.”
Fuck.
“Yes, Pakhan.” I bow my head.
“I’ll deal with you then, too.”
Double fuck. I suspected I wasn’t off the hook for my failure to notify him the moment things went wrong.
“Yes, Pakhan.” I get up and move toward the door.
“And Maykl,” Ravil calls me back.
“Yes, Pakhan?”
“No more fuck-ups. No more lapses of judgment. She’s your prisoner. If you let her go; if you let her make contact with anyone outside this building, I will cut your balls off to make sure you don’t ever think with your dick again.”
I grew up with this level of threat and intimidation, so it shouldn’t bother me. But because our leader is normally so mild and because he doesn’t make idle threats, I register the threat viscerally.
I bow my head once more. “Forgive me, Pakhan.”
He waves me away. “We will deal with apologies later. For now, I want your word you can handle your part. Or should we take control of the woman?”
“No.” I practically snarl the word, even though my head is already on Ravil’s chopping block.
Surprisingly, my pakhan appears more satisfied than angry with my tone. He sits back. “That’s what I thought. Now go deal with her. I will put guards outside your door as backup.”
Nikolai meets me in the elevator hallway with a pair of handcuffs and chains. He hands them to me but doesn’t release them when I tug. “Listen, Maykl. When Ravil kidnapped Lucy and brought her here, Maxim told him there was only one option that would result in her not being a threat to the organization.”
I stiffen, understanding that we’re talking about whether Kira dies or not. “And what was that?”
“Make her fall in love.” He releases his hold on the chains and flicks a brow. “So use those wisely.” A slap on my shoulder, and he’s gone, with me standing there in the hallway with a kick of lust running through me.
Winning Kira is the only way to save her life.
Game on.
Kira
I drift off to sleep after Maykl leaves.
When I wake, he’s standing over me, a dark gleam in his eye. My ankles and wrists have been cut loose. “What will I do with you, Valkiriya?”
It all comes back to me. The truth serum. The interrogation. What I told him.
Logically, I know I should be afraid. The fact that I’m not means the drug is still coursing through my veins. Keeping me sluggish and relaxed. In an open state. Still susceptible to any question he might ask.
“Don’t kill me,” I mumble in reply to his most likely rhetorical question.
His brows lower. It’s hard to focus, but he appears troubled. Like killing me is on the table, but he won’t enjoy it.
That means I may have some wiggle room if my brain and body ever come back online.
“It’s not up to me now, little warrior. You involved the FBI. Planted bugs in our building and sent them the information they needed to breach the building. Why would they need that?”
“They believe you will resist arrest, and there will be a stand-off.” I hear myself whimper without even knowing I was going to. “I don’t want you killed, Maykl.”
His expression softens. He crawls onto the bed, leaning over me. “Is that so?” He brushes my hair from my face.
“No. You’d be on the frontline. I don’t like it. I was going to try to protect you.”
His lips quirk. “Protect me.” His deep growl of a voice warms my chest. “How would you protect me, Valkiriya?”
“I don’t know. I would lure you away from the door. Or warn you. I didn’t have a plan. I have been winging this whole thing if you couldn’t tell.”
It’s strange to hear all my thoughts pour out of my mouth. So unlike me to share any personal thoughts at all.
I attempt to meet his gaze. My eyes still seem to have trouble focusing. “Would you try to protect me, Maykl?”
He stares down at me, conflict swirling behind his brown gaze.
“I know I don’t deserve it. I lost your trust. But there’s still something between us, isn’t there?”
Gospodi. I sound pathetic. Why can’t I wake from this dream-like state the drug put me in?
He grips my jaw, his stare hardening. “What is there between us, Kira, hmm? Sex?”
For a moment, I can’t breathe. There’s some emotion stuffed just behind my solar plexus.
Something fighting to get out.
My vision grows blurry. Am I crying over his rejection following my vulnerable attempt at finding common ground?
“You took pity on me before. You helped me with Anya’s funeral arrangements.”
“Yes and look how you repaid me.”
I blink, and the tears spill down my temples into my ears. “I know. But it had to be done. To find Mika.”
His expression only hardens further. His sympathy for me and my plight has ended.
“I’m sorry, Maykl.”
It’s true. We both know it’s true because I’m still under the influence of the drug he gave me. Still unable to filter anything or lie.
That seems to soften him because he lowers his mouth to mine, still gripping my jaw. He devours me with a kiss, his tongue lashing between my lips, punishing me with the ferocity of the contact.
I kiss him back, still crying. Ecstatic at the touch. At the hope for redemption burning in my chest. It goes on and on. A blinding kiss. The kind that makes my eyes roll back in my head and my mind go completely empty.
When he pulls away, I whimper at the loss.
“You like that, little warrior?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I moan. “I like… you. I” I try to filter the words before they come out but fail. “I’m falling for you, but I don’t want to.”
One corner of his lips quirk. “That’s cute, Valkiriya.” He strokes his thumb along my lower lip. “I’m inclined to believe you.”
“You have to believe me because you have me drugged,” I moan.
He chuckles darkly.
“It’s not funny.”
He tucks his thumb in my mouth, and I suck on it, somehow eager to taste more of him. To please him.
“It’s a little funny.”
The idea of biting his thumb filters through my brain, but no part of me wants to take action on it.
“You are cute like this. I love to hear your unfiltered thoughts.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” For some reason, I believe he is speaking the truth, too. “But for now, I am your prison guard. Which I like.” His gaze turns feral. “Keeping you chained to my bed is a great pleasure.”
I blink up at him. “What will you do with me…in your bed?” I don’t think I’m consciously trying to seduce him, but the drug has released my inhibitions.
My body craves his touch. Craves satisfaction under his expert hands.
He straddles my waist. “What do you want me to do with you?”
I moan, sounding wounded. “I want you to touch me.”
He strokes a hand from my throat to my shoulder, then lower, to cradle my breast, which he squeezes roughly. “Like this?” He tugs the covers down to pinch my nipple into a tight bud. “How do you like to be touched, Kira?”
I shake my head. “Touch me…the way you want. The way you touched me last time. Before.” I get confused about when our last time was.
He strokes his hand down my side and back up again. Lowers his head to suck my taut nipple. “You like it rough, Kira?”
“I didn’t think so, but yes. I enjoyed it with you. I…I was afraid and liked it at the same time.”
“Sometimes fear makes things more pleasurable,” he observes between tongue flicks.
“That…doesn’t make sense.”
“No? You don’t think fear could sharpen your senses? Make the pleasure more potent and the release more powerful?”
My hips buck as if he were already fucking me. I already require release.
He doesn’t touch me roughly, despite my begging. Instead, he trails his fingertips lightly over my skin, making gooseflesh rise in his wake. He traces around my belly button, up between my breasts.
“Who makes you scream back home?” An air of danger shimmers around him, like he wants to kill every man I name.
When I moan, “No one,” he relaxes.
“How do you think I should punish you for what you’ve done? For bugging the building? Giving our security information to the FBI?”
“Ohhh,” I moan and arch, rocking my pelvis trying to find friction where I need it most.
“Hmm, moya malen’kaya Valkiriya?”
My legs swish under the covers like I’m swimming through an ocean of lust. I roll my head on the pillow. “I want you to punish me.”
He chuckles. “Little warriorit’s a guarantee. I plan to punish you thoroughly. I just haven’t decided how much will be pleasure and how much will be pain.”
I work hard to focus on his face.
“Of course, there’s always the possibility of withholding pleasure. Perhaps that would be the best angle with you. Hmm? Get you all riled up but never let you come? That seems a fitting punishment, doesn’t it?”
“No-oo,” I moan. I attempt to sit up. “I hate that. Don’t do that.”
He pushes me back down with a finger on my sternum. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”
“Maykl…”
He meets my gaze. I rub my lips together. “You canyou should…do whatever you want with me. I want you to do everything. Everything you want.”
Oh God. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? I can’t believe the shameful things pouring from my lips.
He lowers his head and flicks his tongue in my belly button, trailing it lower, pushing the covers down to reveal my bare legs. I part them wide for him, begging for it.
“You want my tongue here, little warrior?” He touches the tip of his tongue to the apex of my labia, wiggling it a little to delve inside. Just a hint of what it would feel like if he made himself at home there. If he sought out and licked and tortured the throbbing little nubbin that resides just below.
“Y-yes,” I moan. “I want you to lick me there.” I sound hoarse. I roll my head from side to side. “Oh God, why am I saying these things?”
“Because you owe me all your truths,” Maykl says. “And I deserve them.”
He’s right. Or at least, in this moment, I feel that he’s right. That I owe him a complete baring of my soul. There’s no other way to win his pardon but to offer up everything I have to give: my body. My vulnerability.
I tricked him. Manipulated him. Betrayed his kindness.
Now I want him to take his due. Take from me everything he desires.
Maykl
Nikolai’s advice to me changed everything.
Now, as I make Kira writhe beneath me, I know what’s at stake. I know the bratva can’t let her go. Not after her betrayal. So the only way to make this work is to make her want me.
Which means: I might get to keep her.
A chorus of bugles sound in my head at that thought.
The truth is that I haven’t had that many women. The bratva cell in Moscow had prostitutes around. I gained quite a bit of experience with them in my teen years. They taught me how to pleasure a woman. Made sure I was well-versed in every variety of sexual positions, styles, and fantasies.
But I never had a woman who belonged to me. Of course, the bratva back in Russia forbade marriage or lasting relationships. No live-in girlfriends. Whores only is the rule.
It was the rule here with Ravil, too. At least until it wasn’t. Until he knocked up a lawyer and then claimed her against her will.
Lucy loves him now, of course. And he’s changed drastically now that baby Benjamin has come along. Most of the leadership in the Chicago bratva now have wives or girlfriends.
I want one, too.
I don’t know what stopped me from going out and dating an American.
Perhaps the fact that it’s too complicated to explain to an ordinary woman who I am and what I do. That the tattoos that mark my skin signify terrible sins.
That I’m wrapped up with an organization I can never leave.
The only way out is in a box, as they say.
It’s hard to believe I could coax a woman to stick around.
Perhaps that’s why the fantasy of keeping Kira trapped in my apartment forever is so enticing. A woman who can’t walk out. Who won’t leave me. Who has no choice but to stay with a man who has no soul.
I absolutely love hearing her spill her thoughts and feelings, with no ability to filter.
The temptation to use those pills on her again and again is already there. What man doesn’t want to know everything the woman he wants is thinking? But, of course, it would be so wrong to use them to win her heart.
But is that what I actually want? To win this woman’s heart? A woman I can’t even trust?
But yes. Somewhere between the sex the first night and finding her digging through my drawers downstairs, I’ve become muddled. I’ve lost all touch with right and wrong. Good and bad. Up from down. Perhaps I’ve been drugged too. Drugged by the scent of her skin, the touch of her silky moon-pale hair. The sound of her voice when she moans for more.
I want to give it all to her. I want to be her hero, her savior, and, yes, still her captor. Her jailor.
I want to be everything to her and have her be everything to me. I want to find her nephew and deliver him to her. Win her undying gratitude. At the same time, I want to force her to do all manner of depraved things. To be my slave. To service me. To receive my ministrations. To cry out my name every time she comes. This woman has bewitched me. This warrior has already cut out my heart. Now, all I have to do is make sure she doesn’t leave with it. That shouldn’t be too hard. I am the gatekeeper, after all. I am in charge of who enters and leaves this building.
And it’s already been decided: Kira will never leave.
I reach up and pinch her nipple at the same moment I roll my tongue around her clit. She bucks, her hips lifting from the bed, her inner thighs shuddering, feet flailing.
I love her like this. Helpless. Needy. Greedy. I lift her knees up toward her shoulders to roll her up and open to me. Then I swirl my tongue around her anus.
She cries out. “Oh! Gospodi! That’s so wrong! But it feels so good. What are you doing? Why are you doing that? Stop… I mean don’t stop.”
A better man would wait until the effects of the drug have left her system. But I am not a better man. I am her captor. And she is my prisoner. Besides, it is my job to make her fall in love. Which means I need to know everything she likes and doesn’t like.
“You’re going to take it back here today, little Valkyrie.”
Her anus puckers and her hips jack up from the bed. “Nyet. No. Not…why?”
“It’s your punishment.”
“No, Maykl.”
“You just told me you wanted me to do whatever I wanted to you. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“You’re going to take me back here little warrior. You’re going to take everything I’ve got to give you, and then you’re going to beg me for more.”
“Oh!” Her ice-blue eyes are wide, but the pupils are dilated, not contracted. And not from the drug. She’s turned on.
I bring my mouth to her core, sucking on her nether lips and tracing my tongue inside them. Penetrating her with the tip. I flick it over her clit.
I stay at it until her moans have grown loud, and she’s panting. Her thighs quiver and her knees press against my shoulders.
Then I release her and back off.
“No! Wait” She reaches for me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get a lubricant. You’re going to lie there very quietly and wait for me. Understand?”
She nods her head rapidly.
“If you move from that bed, Kira, that tells me that you’re not going to be a good prisoner for me. And if you’re not going to be a good prisoner for me, I will have to turn you over to my bratva brothers. Do you want that?”
She shakes her head rapidly. “Nyet.”
“Then don’t move.”
“I won’t move,” she promises.
I’m actually not certain how capable she is of moving. I know the drug relaxed her muscles. But she seemed to be regaining her strength.
It’s a test. A risky one, probably. But I know if she comes out to fight me again, I can overpower her.
I’d love to build some trust between us. I don’t want to keep her chained forever, as much as the thought turns me on. I want her to surrender.
I go to the kitchen. I don’t have any conventional lubricant, but I know any food-grade vegetable oil will work. I find the small bottle of olive oil I keep in the cabinet and am satisfied when I return to find Kira has not moved an inch.
“Good girl,” I purr as I crawl over her on the bed.
She eyes the olive oil bottle in my hand and searches my face.
I unscrew the lid and dribble a little bit on my fingers, then rub them over her slit. My fingers slide easily into her entrance, and she moans and rocks her pelvis to take me deeper. I stroke her inner walls, seeking her g-spot, and when I find the place where the tissue stiffens under my fingers, I pump against it.
When I rub my thumb over her clit at the same time, she comes, her inner walls spasming around my fingers, her cry filling the room.
“Good girl. That’s how you take it,” I encourage.
I slide my fingers out and roll her to her belly. She lets me move her, which is the biggest turn-on of all.
That my warrior has gone docile. She’s given herself to me.
I grab a pillow and scoop an arm under her waist to lift her hips and stuff it beneath them. “Spread your legs, Valkiriya.”
She obeys.
I drizzle a thin line of olive oil along the crack of her ass then start massaging. I take my time, stroking between her cheeks, sliding down to rub her clit then around her anus.
I add more oil and give her a butt massage, then spank her pert ass, alternating right and left without holding back.
She gasps and cries out but holds still for it, parting her legs even wider, like it turns her on.
“Do you like that, Valkiriya?” I ask, remembering that she can’t lie.
“I…yes.” She rubs her face against the pillow she hugged when I rolled her over. “Or…like it isn’t the right word. I don’t like it, but it gets me hot. I want more.”
I fucking love the honesty from her. I don’t know how long it will last, but I want to wring every last truth from her beautiful lips.
I deliver another dozen slaps then rub and massage her ass some more.
“I like punishing you,” I admit, giving her a dose of my own honesty. “I like the little cries and gasps you give me. I like taking it just past the line of too much.” She tips her ass back at me, and I drag my thumb along her crack until it comes to press against her anus.
“How do you know?”
“Years of practice. But at a much more unpleasant kind of torture.”
I breach her back hole with my thumb and massage the oil inside and around the tight ring of muscles.
She whimpers and mewls. With my thumb still inside her ass, I slap her ass a few times. Then I remove my thumb and unbutton my jeans.
Kira looks over her shoulder at me, beautiful and bold. She watches as I pull off my shirt. She still embodies the warrior energy, even naked, beneath me, in this ignominious position.
“You will take me,” I tell her firmly, and she doesn’t protest. She just turns her face back to the pillow, resting on her forearms, the cords along her back tightening in anticipation.
I stroke my cock with the oil, making sure there is plenty of lubrication before I press the head against her back entrance.
“Push, Kira. Push to open to me.”
She makes an adorable little sound as she obeys, and I’m in. I go slowly until the head makes it through, then press in deep. Her shoulders hunch and she goes completely still.
I fist her silky blonde hair and tug her head gently back. “Relax, Valkiriya. Open to me. Breathe.”
Her back softens.
I work slowly in and out of her, giving her time to stretch and grow accustomed to my size.
She moans and mewls every time I move, whimpering.
“That’s it.” The pleasure starts to overtake me. I forget about being gentle as my own need grows.
I pump into her, bracing my weight on one hand, still fisting her hair in the other.
“This is where you take it when you’ve been a bad girl.”
“Yes, okay.” She gasps her agreement.
Flames of heat lick through me. My breath rasps in and out like I’ve run up every flight of stairs in the Kremlin.
“Maykl? Oh…it’s…I need…”
“What do you need, moya malen’kaya Valkiriya?”
She reaches her hand beneath her to touch between her legs.
Knowing she’s turned on, that she’s seeking her own release clitorally, drives me wild. I have to remember not to be too rough as I thrust in and out, pounding down the home stretch.
“Maykl…. Maykl.”
Blyad’. I absolutely love hearing her choke out my name in that hoarse, desperate voice.
My balls draw up tight, and then it’s right on top of me. Like a tidal wave is pushing me forward, I’m launched into climax. I come inside her, pressing deep and delivering a series of short thrusts until I’m finished.
Only then do I remember to help my Valkyrie. I slip my hand under her hips and tangle my fingers over hers, rubbing her clit. She directs them down, pressing them inside her to feel her orgasm, the muscles squeezing and releasing.
“Yes.”
She said it, but I could say the same.
Best orgasm of my life.
I nuzzle against her, kissing the back of her neck, and nibbling her ear.
Her slender back still heaves with her slowing pants. A layer of sweat slicks the surface between us.
I ease out. “Come.” I scoop her into my arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She loops her arms around my neck. “I can’t move,” she complains.
“I’ll hold you up.”
In the bathroom, I set her on her feet while I turn on the water, then hold her trembling hand as she steps in, and I step in after her.
To my surprise and pleasure, she turns to face me, letting me gather her up in my arms and hold her close under the spray of water.
We stay like that for a long time. Until her heartbeat has slowed, and she draws a deep breath and sighs.
I pick up a bar of soap and take my time, sudsing her with long, slow strokes, turning washing into a sensuous exploration of her every curve. Every cranny.
Her hands coast over my body, too. She traces my tattoos. Brushes her lips over my hairy chest. Uses her teeth on my pectoral muscle. “I’ve never been with a man like you,” she says.
I don’t know whether it’s still the drug making her talk or if this truth has been won honestly from her.
I don’t care.
“What kind of man?” I use the shampoo to suds her hair.
“I don’t know. You are just…different. Everything I thought I’d hate but found out I love.”
I know she’s not saying she loves me. That would be absurd to believe I’ve already won her heart.
But the beginnings of the feeling must be there, or she wouldn’t have said it. She’s capable of loving me, perhaps. The ingredients for love are present.
Or maybe she’s just talking about sex.
Which, for now, is enough.
And that’s when I finally remember there’s one thing that could doom this whole thing. Bring everything crashing down around my ears.
Kira doesn’t know what I’ve done.
She doesn’t know that I’m the man who killed her father.
And when she finds that out, no amount of sex will save me.
Or her.