He frowned. “No matter how I’m touching you, Ania, I’m loving you. I don’t care if we’re playing with cuffs or I’m in the car standing over you, my cock in your mouth, I’m loving you. You say no to anything and mean it, at any time, and we stop. I want you to always feel loved.”
She leaned into him and kissed him. His taste was always that little bit feral. Part of the excitement with Mitya was that feeling of loss of control. His arms tightened around her and then he took over the kiss, pouring fire into her so that her panties went damp and her breasts instantly ached.
When he lifted his head, Mitya stared down into Ania’s eyes, shocked at the depth of feeling she always managed to wring out of him. She said she loved him, and he could see it in her eyes that she did. She was his world. His reason for existence. For getting up in the morning and for trying to weed out the worst of the criminals.
Sevastyan called him whipped, and he knew he was. He didn’t care. He looked forward to going to bed, just so he could hold her, watch her sleep, wake her up with his mouth between her legs, devouring her honey that was meant for him alone. He loved that. Loved holding her down with one hand on her belly as she woke up, her hips bucking, his face right where he preferred to be.
He loved her lips stretched around his cock while he moved in and out of her mouth, her soft hands cupping his balls, eyes liquid and looking up into his. That was such a turn-on, and the feeling was exquisite. Unbelievable.
He loved his body moving in hers, surrounded by fire, by a fist of hot, wet silk, so tight she was strangling him, dragging his seed right out of him. Most of all, he loved her company. Watching her laugh. The way her face lit up. She could light up the world. She was intelligent and talented when it came to her work. She had compassion in her when he didn’t, but he was learning from her.
“I never want you to think I’m not loving you,” he repeated. “Even when I get harsh with you.” He wished he could feel remorse for those times. He often thought about having her at his mercy, his hand on her bottom, his cock surging in and out of her while she was helpless in cuffs. Every time he thought about it, he grew so hard he was afraid he might shatter.
Her soft laughter was unexpected. “You liked it.”
So, she knew. And she didn’t mind. “Yeah, baby, I liked it. A hell of a lot. I would have done more of the same for you not making it into the safe room, but since you might have saved my life, I thought I’d let it slide.” He loved teasing her. Loved seeing the mock frown on her face and the way she gave him her princess-to-peasant haughty look.
“Might have saved your life?” she echoed. “I totally saved your life. It seems I have to do that quite often. That should get me out of trouble for the next few years.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Next few years? Are you expecting to jack up for the next few years and get away with it because you might have saved my life a time or two?”
“Well,” she hedged. “Maybe not years.”
“I think you’ve forgotten you damaged my property.”
She looked puzzled. “Your property?”
He lifted the hem of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt. She wore her favorite, a button-down flannel that she’d found somewhere. On her it looked sexy. On him, not so much. He slid his hand lightly down the rake mark that ran from the top of her thigh to her calf. It had been very deep and would forever leave a scar.
“My property,” he reiterated.
“Well, that’s true,” she agreed reluctantly. “Maybe not years,” she repeated. “A few months.”
“Now that I look at this, it makes me angry again.” It made him feel sick to his stomach. He hadn’t been there. Thankfully, Vikenti and Zinoviy had done their jobs.
Ania slipped off his lap to the floor, right between his legs, and his cock instantly reacted to the sight of her like that. She covered his growing cock with her palm, rubbing gently, all the while looking up at him innocently, as if she wasn’t trying to distract him.
“I don’t think I want you angry with me, Mitya.”
There was no way to be angry with her, even if he really had cause. Not when she could make every nerve ending in his body come alive the way she did.
“Sit with your back to the ottoman,” he instructed. He liked that the ottoman was low.
She did so immediately.
“Unbutton that shirt and take it off, your panties too.” He stood up, towering over her.
Ania slid each button free and shrugged out of the too-big shirt and then slid the panties from her body. The sight of her breasts added steel to his cock. He went to the end table drawer and retrieved his favorite toys. He loved playing with her. They’d spent nearly the last two weeks in the bedroom, and he’d been a gentle, considerate lover, so conscious of her injury.
The threat of Lazar was over, and in his place, a new enemy had risen, but their coalition would always have new enemies. This one would be no different than all the others. Now that the doctor had told him the wound on Ania’s leg was well on the way to healing and out of danger of infection, he could relax. And he could play. He could have her any way he wanted her.
He crouched down, licked at her nipple and then sucked hard, using tongue and teeth to get her ready. The clamp pinched hard enough to simulate his fingers when he was being rough. He clamped both nipples, smiling wickedly at her hiss of breath as he did so. The double-looped chain hung down, swinging slightly, causing that same sexy hiss. He flicked it once and then moved his hand between her legs to feel her slick heat.
“You like your jewelry, don’t you, kotyonok?”
She couldn’t very well deny it when he had the evidence right there. He waited for her nod before he showed her the vibrator. It was large, thick and shaped very much like his cock. It had bumps on it to rub along every sensitive nerve ending. He held it to her mouth until she opened for him. Once it was wet, he pushed it slowly inside her, fucking her with it for a stroke or two before turning it on low. She gasped. He took her hand and curled her fingers around it.
“Just like that, baby.”
He stood and shed his clothes, watching her the entire time. She looked so sexy, sitting just exactly as he’d placed her, waiting for him. Waiting for his instructions. He dropped his hand on her head and caressed her scalp and then applied pressure until her head tilted all the way back, exposing the vulnerability of her throat to him. The leopard in him appreciated that submissive pose.
He straddled her, one leg on either side of her body, his cock and balls hanging over her head. “Open your mouth, Ania and turn the vibrator to medium.”
She licked her lips and then did as he said, opening her mouth for him. He waited a heartbeat, shocked at the anticipation, at the way his cock jerked and pulsed, so eager to feel that hot, wet mouth closing around him. Her body shuddered again, and he knew she’d obeyed and turned up the vibrator.
His fist guiding his cock, he slid between her lips, watching her struggle to take the girth of him. He went as slowly as possible, the sight so erotic he knew he would wake a million times dripping with need because he’d never lose that image. He was careful, sliding an inch in, sliding back out, going in a little farther and retreating. He got a gentle rhythm going and reached for the chain dangling between her breasts. Using one hand at the base of his cock, he used the other to tug on her breasts, raising them toward him, watching her face, loving the look as she gasped and moaned around his cock.
He picked up the pace, sliding deeper, feeling that tight tunnel massaging his shaft, her tongue working the head.
“Fuck yourself with that vibrator, Ania. Keep working it.”
She did so, her hands on it, pumping it in and out of her while he fucked her mouth. Each time he went deeper he had less control, the fire threatening to consume him. She struggled to swallow him down, to not panic when she couldn’t breathe. The vibrator distracted her as did the w
ay he tugged at the chain. His cock was already swelling. His balls, hitting her chin with every pump, drew up tight.
“On high, Ania.” He could barely snap out the command, barely wait for her to comply. He was almost too far gone. “Swallow me down, baby. Take all of me.”
She had no choice, his cock pinning her to the ottoman, but he felt her swallow, her muscles tightening around him. Then her throat convulsed as she orgasmed, a long, wicked wave that sent his seed burning like molten lava, boiling out of control, rocketing out of him. Flames raced up his thighs to his cock. Fire consumed him completely. He was barely aware of anything but that euphoric place somewhere between heaven and hell.
His cock was still jerking, still semihard, probably as shocked as he was. He became aware of his heart pounding and his legs shaking. He pulled back immediately to give Ania air and heard her swift inhale. He tugged again on the chain, and that sent her into another frenzied orgasm. His cock still in her mouth, he watched the wave take her, rippling through her body, her breasts, her belly, even her thighs.
Her gaze jumped to his and he read the plea in her eyes. She wanted the vibrator off. He would have liked to give her another orgasm, but she was shaking her head. He nodded and she switched it off before she bathed his cock with her warm, wet mouth.
He helped her to her feet and laid her on the bed to remove the clamps, using his mouth immediately to alleviate the rush as the blood flowed back. When he had them off, he rolled over and lay looking up at the ceiling, his heart pumping hard. But it was his soul that she’d stolen from him. He didn’t mind anymore. He was damn grateful he had her. His hand found hers.
“I love you so much, Ania. The things you do to me, the ways you make me feel are beyond description.” He rubbed his chest over his heart. He meant the physical, that was so obvious, but it was so much deeper, that feeling. So overwhelming, and impossible to convey to her how she made him feel inside.
She turned onto her side. Her nipples brushed his arm and she gasped, sensitive from the clamps. He turned to her and gently sucked first one, then the other, to soothe her. Her fingers settled on his scalp, massaging. He loved that. He loved the way she always touched him.
“I love everything you do to me, Mitya. I don’t know how I would ever live without you.”
He still couldn’t believe he’d found her out there on that rainy, wet road, but he was very glad he had. They would find their way; they already were. It was going to be a good journey, this first one for their leopards and for them. He looked forward to every moment, the wild ones, and the beautiful ones, like the one they shared right then.
Keep reading for an excerpt from
VENDETTA ROAD
The next novel in the Torpedo Ink series by Christine Feehan
Available January 2020 from Jove
SOLEIL Brodeur had never actually used the main entrance to the hotel. She used a private entrance and always had a concierge waiting to give her any little thing she wanted or to direct her to wherever she wanted to go. There was a private car to take her places. She had wanted to walk around the Strip like a normal tourist and just enjoy the day. Was that asking too much? Did she always have to dress right and talk only to the people Winston dictated she talk to? They were supposed to be having fun. Make that whatever Winston ordered was fun.
She wiped at the tears on her face and stopped to look around. There were people everywhere. She hadn’t used the private entrance because she hadn’t wanted the concierge to see her crying like a baby, which was so ridiculous there were no words. She had no idea where to go, which elevator to take or even if she could get one to her room from the main lobby. She’d traveled the world, stayed in hundreds of hotels, but she couldn’t find her way to an elevator? She was such an idiot.
No one could force another person to marry them. The idea was ludicrous. She’d brought this entire mess on herself. There was no one else to blame. She might let everyone else do everything for her, but she always took responsibility for her own screwups. This was the worst of the worst.
She took a quick look around and caught sight of a woman’s bathroom, tucked behind an alcove filled with gorgeous plants. She hurried across the gleaming marble-tiled floor and ducked into the alcove. The door was opened for her by an attendant in a hotel uniform. She went on through, wondering how many people couldn’t open a door. Probably only her. A fresh flood of tears ensured her makeup would be a mess.
As with everything else in the hotel, the bathroom was the epitome of luxury. The door opened to a sitting room with faint music, comfortable but elegant chairs, and a sofa, giving women a place to relax if they wanted to hide for a few minutes. A soft fragrance spread through the room, and large, lacy plants in various shades of green added to the peaceful ambience. Once the door was closed, all noise from the outside lobby ceased.
A tall woman with dark hair stood in the midst of the greenery, dragging a dark tank top over a lacy red bra. She was beyond beautiful. Her face was flawless, with her dark eyes and inviting mouth. If Soleil hadn’t been crying, she would have stopped and stared. She couldn’t stay in the sitting room, not with the most gorgeous woman on the face of the earth casually changing from what looked like a sultry afternoon dress—not a girl-next-door sundress.
Soleil went past another concerned attendant to the sink, needing to splash cold water on her face. She had to stop crying, but all she seemed to be able to do was stare at herself in the mirror with tears running down her face. She didn’t look at all like the beautiful woman with gold at her ears and a flawless body to go with her flawless face. That woman probably looked gorgeous when she cried, not all splotchy and red.
There was a faint bruise on her left cheek where her fiancé had slapped her because she’d insisted on a prenup. There were bruises on both upper arms where he’d grabbed her hard and shaken her, as if somehow, by him threatening her, that would make her go through with the marriage.
She’d always had a ridiculous fantasy about being with someone a little rough, although they would never hit her. She never could quite feel that tingle with the men she dated. That spark. Winston hadn’t appeared rough. He had soft hands. He always wore a business suit, and his shoes were gleaming with polish. In the weeks she’d known him, he’d never had a single hair out of place. She realized having the real thing wasn’t at all what she’d dreamt about. No one had ever put their hands on her like that before.
It was ridiculous anyway. She had known better than to come to Vegas. She’d reluctantly agreed even though, in the back of her mind, she feared Winston Trent was going to try to get her to marry him. They’d argued about it several times before coming. He wanted to marry her quickly to “take care of her.” She needed breathing room. She’d told him, and he hadn’t listened.
Winston switched tactics, saying they didn’t have to go through with a marriage, but she needed some fun. He planned the entire trip and “surprised” her. She should have refused to go. That would have been the adult thing to do. The intelligent thing. She did what she always did. She drifted. She let him talk her into it because she wasn’t a fighter. She’d never been a fighter. She liked peace. She liked creating peace.
Her longtime lawyer and guardian, Kevin Bennet, had died unexpectedly in an accident just a month earlier. He had always managed her affairs, looked after her trust fund and been more like a father to her, although she didn’t really know what a father was supposed to be like. She was grieving. She’d told Winston that repeatedly, but his answer was to get married and let him take care of things. He had rushed out and hired a lawyer, but she was uneasy around the new lawyer, a man by the name of Donald Monroe, and felt like she wasn’t ready to move on. Again, Winston’s answer had been to get married and let him handle the lawyer.
She touched the bruises on her arm and shook her head, knowing she was at her lowest point. She’d lost the one man she could talk to and figure things out
with. Everything felt so tangled, and she had absolutely no real idea of what to do next.
“Honey, he’s not worth it. No matter how much money he’s got, no matter how big a ring he puts on your finger, if he puts his hands on you, you should run the opposite way as fast as you can.”
Soleil lifted her gaze in the mirror to see the woman standing beside her. She had been the one in the sitting room changing. She looked at the woman and then dropped her gaze to the ring. “You’re so right,” she murmured, and pulled it off her finger to shove in the pocket of her dress. “Thanks for the advice.”
Up close, the stranger was even more gorgeous. Really, really beautiful. It took some doing not to stare. The woman rinsed her hands in the immaculate bowl and Soleil couldn’t help glancing down to see if she wore a ring. She didn’t. She wasn’t quite as tall as Soleil had first thought but looked it because, although she had curves, she was on the slimmer side. She wore skinny jeans, motorcycle boots and a leather vest over a dark tank. She’d gone from glamorous woman to hot biker babe in about three minutes. Who could do that?
“You all right, honey? I could get you a room if you need it for the night.” Even her voice was sultry.
A perfect stranger in the women’s room of a hotel was nicer to her than her fiancé, the man who had sworn he loved her. “Thank you, I really appreciate the offer, but I have a room. I’m going to pack and get out of here fast.” The problem was, she was going to have to face Winston. They shared the room.
“Good for you,” the woman approved.
“Did you hear all those sirens?” Soleil asked, trying to change the subject so she didn’t look so pathetic. “It sounded like half the police force were going somewhere.”
The woman nodded. “Around the corner, a couple of streets over. I heard there was a shooting in a massage parlor. Someone said everyone inside is dead.”
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