She licked her lips, her eyes on his cock and the hand loosely circling his shaft. “I suppose I should practice taking orders, just to be a little better at following them. In case of an emergency or something.”
He leaned in to her to flick her nipple. Heat burst through her. “I think practicing is a good idea, Ania. I like your carpet. Nice and thick and warm. Slide off the bed and kneel right there.” He pointed to a spot between his legs.
Her heart started pounding. Hard. Blood rushed to pool low. Her sex clenched. Nipples peaked. His voice had changed to the one that stroked velvet all over her body. The one that gave commands, and she wanted to give him everything. She crawled over to the edge of the bed and slipped off, obediently crawling between his legs to kneel between his thighs.
His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs strumming her nipples. “I love how responsive you are.” He tugged and rolled, even pinched and flicked until her breath was coming in ragged pants and she was so damp she was slick.
“Kneel up, Ania.”
She did as he said, and it put her exactly the height she needed to be when he stood.
“I want you to give my balls a lot of attention. Make them ache for you.”
He was close. So close she couldn’t resist bending a little lower, tilting her head up and running her tongue over his heavy sac. Between. Around. She stroked caresses with her tongue. Cupping him gently in her palms, she squeezed and massaged, all the while using her mouth to suck, kiss and lick until she heard his breathing change and his fist tightened around his shaft.
“Now my cock, baby. Lots of attention. Make me think you worship it.”
Maybe she did, after what he’d done to her with it. She could see herself in love with that part of him when maybe his bossy ways weren’t nearly as hot. Although there was something very hot about him giving her orders in the bedroom.
She licked up the shaft and all around the rim. Her hand went to replace his at the base, but he shook his head. “I don’t want your hands on my cock.” His gaze burned into hers and, once again, his eyes glittered with that feral, wild look that was terrifying and sexy at the same time.
She used her tongue to get him very wet and then she took the crown in her mouth, her tongue dancing over it, under it, stabbing, flicking and then stroking. She took him deeper, only an inch, but he stretched her lips just as he’d predicted and there was just a little moment of panic at the thought that he controlled how much of him was going into her mouth. At the thought, more liquid spilled between her legs, making her slicker. Needier. More wanton.
She sucked hard, switched to licks going up his shaft and teasing his velvet crown before once more taking him into the heat of her mouth. Even to herself, it was hot. He caught her hair in one hand and held her head still while he pushed himself deeper. Her gaze shot to his. He didn’t look away, but he held himself there and she began to suck.
At first, she was tentative, but then the feel of him in her mouth, the sexy way she knelt between his legs and his sac brushing against her chin got to her. Ania loved the way the hair on his thighs teased her breasts. He began to move his hips, pulling back to give her a breath and then sliding in.
“You look so fucking sexy, Ania,” he whispered. “I love the way your lips look around my cock. It’s so hot. Your mouth surrounding me with all that scorching heat. Can you taste me? I want to come down your throat, but you’re not ready for that.”
She would have taken him that way or tried to. The way he was looking at her gave her everything she needed and more to do whatever he asked, but she concentrated on hollowing her cheeks and sucking him when he pushed deeper and dancing her tongue up his shaft when he was giving her a breath.
Twice her hands flew up to his cock when he pressed deeper and she was alarmed. He shook his head. “Put your hands on your breasts. I want you rolling your nipples. When I’m in your mouth, baby, you think only about my cock. Nothing else. Just that. If I push deep, swallow. Breathe through your nose. Suck hard, but don’t pull away and don’t try to control what’s happening. When your mouth is on me, it’s all about you giving me everything.”
She understood, and she forced her body to relax. He’d given her nirvana. She wanted to do the same for him. She began to think about his shape. His size. The things that made his body shake and his breathing change. She wanted to memorize every inch of him. Stroke her tongue along that prominent vein and dance over the vee under the crown.
She didn’t realize at first that she was taking him deeper until she felt his entire body shudder, and her lashes lifted so she was looking into his eyes. He forced his cock from her mouth with a hiss of need escaping. His hands were already pulling her up.
“On the bed, Ania, hands and knees. Face away from me.”
She crawled back onto the bed and did as he asked, her entire body already so slick, so sensitive, crying out for him. Her legs were trembling. Fingers of desire dancing up and down her thighs. Darts of fire ran from breast to clit, and deep inside her sheath spasmed in anticipation.
He caught her hips, pressed that broad crown to her entrance and plunged deep. Hard. Slammed inside her. It was so rough she nearly tumbled forward, but his hands were on her hips, dragging her back to him. He began to move, pistoning into her. She felt every stroke, so deep she was afraid he would come out her throat.
Her breath came in hard little sobs. Pleas. More. More. She needed more. He gave it to her, swearing in his language. Yanking her head back so she arched her back. Moving over top of her to change the angle. All the while his hips continued to drive into her, the rhythm fast and steady.
Then he was swatting her, smacking her cheeks with his hand, each slap spreading heat across her bottom until the nerve endings sang, adding to the vicious need growing out of control inside her. She felt him swell, push at the tender tissue. She cried out, and then her sheath clamped down hard on him, gripping like a vise and then squeezing and milking, desperate for every drop of seed he had in him.
She felt the hot splash of every rope of scorching seed he rocketed to the walls of her sheath, triggering a series of orgasms. His body flung her into that place only he could take her and she collapsed, falling forward, her heart beating too hard, her breath ragged, and her body still pulsing, alive and singing.
Mitya went with her, coming down over top of her, pinning her to the mattress, his head on her butt. He turned his head and sank his teeth into the middle of his handprint, triggering another aftershock. A huge one.
She closed her eyes and hugged the sheets. Outside the rain poured down onto the roof. Inside, Mitya rubbed her red cheeks and then down her thighs and up her back until his breath slowed and he rolled over.
She turned her head to look at him. “That was incredible. I never thought I could ever do that. I enjoyed having you in my mouth. Not just enjoyed it. I loved it.” She had.
She had never liked it before, but she’d done it. She was generous to a partner, but having sex had never been close to what it was with him. Definitely, she wanted to try again, to see what else she could do. “You did that for me, Mitya. I was a little afraid, but somehow you gave me confidence.”
“All you, baby.” He rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom, cleaning himself and then returning with a washcloth. “It’s only going to get better. All of it, Ania. Give us a chance.”
She already knew she was going to try.
6
ANIA inhaled, taking in the wonderful aroma of the bakery. She hadn’t been out of her house for the last week. She hadn’t realized, until she entered the bakery, how isolated and lonely she had become never leaving her home. Watching Evangeline and Ashe serve their customers—their movements synchronized, as if they’d practiced them, never running into each other, like a wonderful ballet—made Ania smile. She’d been smiling quite often lately.
Every morning she’d visited with her father. Just
having Mitya there had seemed to breathe new life into him. Mitya never allowed her to enter her father’s room unless he or Sevastyan was with her. She didn’t mind the decree because anytime she wanted to go in, Mitya always stopped what he was doing and immediately accommodated her.
She knew it was silly to hope. Antosha was dying and she had to keep that in her mind, but he’d seemed to rally these past few days. He couldn’t talk very well, but each morning, he smiled at her, definitely recognized her and held her hand when she chattered away with him. Sometimes his adoring gaze went from her face to rest on Mitya. At once his expression would change, and her heart would nearly seize at the look that would pass between them. She went into her father’s room often throughout the day, Mitya at her side. Mostly, Antosha slept, but always in the morning he was more alert.
Ania inhaled her latte and cinnamon-apple muffin. Evangeline looked up from serving a customer and smiled at her, a blaze of joy coming off her to welcome Ania as if they were old friends. She hadn’t been open to meeting or making friends until she’d met Mitya. He’d changed her life in so many ways. He made her feel as if he couldn’t do without her. He had no compunction about slamming her up against a wall and having wild, hot, crazy sex the moment they were alone together. It never seemed to matter to him where they were, he could suddenly bend her over a chair or take her on the floor in front of the fireplace. Sex was often, and it was always wild.
She was sore, a delicious, secret soreness that made her feel as if she really belonged to Mitya. He’d given her hope when she’d had none. They hadn’t talked about the men who might have killed her family. He’d cautioned her to take one step at a time. He was reaching out to his contacts to find out who the man was that had come to her home with others to finish the job they’d started.
“Hey, girl. You haven’t been in lately,” Evangeline greeted, flinging herself into the chair opposite Ania. “We were hoping you’d come back.”
“Mitya is keeping her prisoner,” Ashe said, sliding onto the chair to the right of Evangeline.
“Ashe, need coffee,” one of the bodyguards called.
“You know where the coffeepot is, Jeremiah,” Ashe returned, sounding snippy. “I’m not getting up when I just sat down. You waited on purpose.”
Judging by the smirk on Jeremiah’s face, Ania was fairly certain Ashe was correct.
“I see Evangeline is keeping you out of the kitchen,” Jeremiah said as he rounded the counter to reach the glass coffeepot with the hot brew kept ready for customers.
Ashe gave him a rude finger gesture and turned back to Ania. “Ignore him. It’s the only sane thing to do.”
“Is he your brother?” Ania asked.
Jeremiah was clearly younger than the other bodyguards and he didn’t have the rough, scary features or hard edge the others had. The way Ashe and Jeremiah interacted, as if they were affectionately annoyed with each other, made her think they had some close association.
Ashe flashed another grin at Jeremiah. “People think you’re my baby brother,” she announced with obvious glee.
Jeremiah returned the rude gesture. Even some of the bodyguards sitting at their tables pretending to read smiled.
“Jeremiah and Ashe are good friends,” Evangeline said firmly. “We’re more interested in you and Mitya. Fyodor and Timur are Mitya’s cousins. Mitya was shot protecting Fyodor and me right here in the bakery.”
Ania’s heart clenched hard at the thought of Mitya being shot. She saw his body often. She knew every scar he had. She’d traced them with her fingers, with her lips and tongue. She saw how often he had to ease his body into a different position in order to stop pain he still experienced. “I knew they were close.”
“Fyodor tells me Mitya is staying at your home with you.”
Ania found herself smiling as she lifted the latte and took a drink. She wanted to moan it was so good, but she figured that would be considered inappropriate. “I think these men gossip more than women do. Yes, Mitya is staying with me at my house. My father is very ill and he’s staying close to him.”
“To him?” Ashe teased. “I’ll bet he’s not nearly as close to your father as he is to you.”
Ania blushed. She had never been given to blushing, but the mischievous note in Ashe’s voice, all-knowing, conjured up images of Mitya striding into her dining room and laying her across the table. He’d spent an inappropriate amount of time devouring her, because he said they were in the dining room and that made him hungry.
“You’re turning red,” Ashe added. “Lobster red.” She nudged Evangeline. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Stop teasing her,” Evangeline said, laughing. “You’re being awful.” She sent Ania a reassuring smile. “I’d like to tell you she gets better with time, but it isn’t true. She’s a bit of a handful according to Timur.”
A derisive snort came from somewhere across the room, from Jeremiah’s direction. Ashe glared threateningly, causing Ania to burst into laughter. They made her feel part of their circle, and she needed that. She missed her family, the laughter and comradery. She hadn’t had anything close to it for three years. Mitya had given her this.
“Tell us about you and Mitya,” Evangeline encouraged, giving Ashe a warning look.
Ania rubbed her finger along the inside of the mug handle. “He was very unexpected.”
Evangeline leaned closer. She knew that their bodyguards were leopard. All had excellent hearing. She lowered her voice even more. “Is something worrying you?”
Of course, she was worried. They couldn’t live on sex. The sex was beyond anything she’d experienced. If they came together just for sex and lived separate lives, they would do fine. Mitya wasn’t having any of that. She chose not to tell them how afraid she was that Mitya was taking over her life and she was just letting him. Instead, she gave them her other concern.
“My leopard has retreated. She was close to her heat and then she withdrew. I can barely feel her unless Mitya is close. She rises to reach for his leopard, but then she subsides, as if she is just going to sleep. She was so close. I know she was.” Ania couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice.
Mitya reassured her often that she was his for himself. He wanted her. But she knew without his leopard claiming her female, Mitya wouldn’t be with her. He could tell her the same thing over and over, but she knew the truth. Her leopard soothed his. Her leopard had been the real reason Mitya had continued to seek her out. When he was close to Ania, his leopard was at peace.
“You said your father is ill, Ania,” Evangeline pointed out. “Sometimes, when there is trauma in our lives, that can delay ovulation. The emergence is all about ovulation. Being fertile. You and the leopard having the same cycle.”
“My nanny is leopard. Her leopard never emerged. She says she’s too old now and will never experience her leopard being free. I don’t want that for mine.” She didn’t want Mitya to leave her either. She feared if her leopard didn’t rise she’d lose him.
“I think you’re worrying for nothing,” Evangeline said. “It’s very clear that your leopard and Mitya’s are a mated pair. She will rise when it’s safe for her to do so. Leopards protect their human counterpart. She may be protecting you. You can only handle so much, Ania. Don’t expect so much of yourself. You’re taking care of your family business as well as your father. Right now, that’s enough. Let your leopard take care of you.”
Ania hadn’t thought of it that way. It was possible she was so worried about her father that she couldn’t deal with what would happen once her leopard emerged. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“It’s possible you’re right,” she admitted. “I hope you are.”
“What’s Mitya like?” Ashe asked. “He’s always been a closed book. He looks scary. Is he?”
Was he? Absolutely. Ania was nodding before she could stop herself. “He expects obedi
ence from everyone. The slightest thing he says,” she admitted. “That can be . . .”
“Annoying,” Ashe suppled.
“Terrifying,” Ania qualified before she could stop herself. It was the first time she’d admitted that to herself. Coming up against Mitya would be frightening, and she knew it would happen sooner or later. Right now, she wasn’t doing anything he didn’t like or approve of, but she really wasn’t a woman who relied on someone else to think for her. Was that what he wanted? She still didn’t know, and they talked all the time. Or she did. Mitya listened.
“He wants to be involved in every aspect of my life.”
“Most husbands do,” Evangeline pointed out gently. “Certainly, Fyodor insists on it.”
Ashe nodded. “Timur too. He drives me right up the wall.”
“And do you give in and tell them everything?” Ania asked. “Every single thing you’re doing and where you’re going? Answering to them like you’re a teenager?”
Evangeline shared a look with Ashe. Ashe wrinkled her nose. Jeremiah snorted, as if he’d taken a swallow of coffee and coughed it all over the table.
Ania rubbed her temples. “Normal people don’t live like that, do they? Just because they’re in a relationship? My parents were crazy in love, but I never noticed that my mother had to ask my father’s permission to go into town and shop whenever she wanted. Or visit a neighbor. She just did it.”
Evangeline very gently laid her hand over Ania’s. “Has Mitya told you anything about his past?”
Ania drew back, nodding. She hadn’t allowed herself to think too much about the things Mitya had disclosed to her. She couldn’t imagine what kind of childhood he’d had—or what his psychotic father had shaped him into.
“It’s different for all of us,” Ashe said. “Do we like it? No. At least I don’t. But they have very powerful enemies, and that means there is always danger. To them. To us. To any children we might have.”
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