Untied: A Mastermind Novel

by Lydia Michaels

  After saying goodnight to her relatives, she met him at the car and stashed a little bag in the back. His mind immediately made assumptions about what was inside said bag, but he didn’t ask.

  They returned to Budapest and stopped at a small café. All he’d done was eat all day, but Nadia was hungry, so he had coffee while she devoured a baklava strudel.

  “I miss this food,” she said as she pleasantly hummed over the last bite. “I make it at home, but it’s never as good.”

  He knew of a small Hungarian restaurant in the city and made a mental note to take her there. He liked watching her eat—which might be a strange thing for a boyfriend to enjoy, but he didn’t care. “Do you eat horse?”

  She laughed. “I’ve tried it, but I don’t like it. Horses are too pretty to eat.”

  “You don’t think cows and pigs are pretty?”

  “I do, but I like meat too much to give them up. What is the word for that? Húsevő.”

  He chuckled. “Hypocrite.”

  She lightly smacked his arm. “No. I’m trying to say meat eater.”

  He arched a brow. “Carnivore?”

  She smiled. “Yes, I am a big carnivore hypocrite.”

  They walked the streets until dark and he enjoyed having such a well-informed tour guide. When they stood outside of the Four Seasons, she hesitated.

  “I should probably get back.”

  He thought about her bag in the car. Thought about how they’d slept in each other’s arms last night and how much he wanted to have her in his arms again. “Or you could stay.”

  Her gaze searched his, the energy between them tightening. “Is that what you want?”

  God, yes. “Only if you want to.”

  She looked down, her eyes appearing troubled. “Promise me something, Elliot.”

  “What?”

  As she lifted her face, a deep V formed between her brows. “If I stay with you, will you still look at me the same in the morning?”

  His chest tightened, the slight ache indefinable. Why would she think he would look at her any differently? “Nadia, there’s nothing you could do to make me look at you differently.”

  “Promise me.”

  Stepping closer, he whispered, “I promise. But we don’t have to do anything. You could just stay.”

  The worry lines surrounding her eyes remained. “I like you, Elliot. So much it scares me. I don’t want to go too fast and spoil what we have.”

  His breath caught as his own fears of inadequacy battled with excitement. As much as he wanted to see what it was like, he was terrified he’d ruin it as well. “We’ll take it slow. Let’s not decide until we get there.”

  Appearing slightly relieved, she nodded. “I brought a bag.”

  As she pulled her luggage out of the back, he took it from her and carried it into the hotel. Awareness settled over him, tense and prickly. Adrenaline heated his blood and his stomach swooped with every step closer to the room.

  The waiting became agonizing as they took the elevator to the top floor. He needed more time to collect himself. He wasn’t sure what to expect once they were on the other side of the door.

  “I think I need a shower,” he announced, figuring that would buy him ten minutes.

  “Okay,” Her voice was just below a whisper. Maybe she was nervous, too.

  Sliding his card through the key slot, he held the door for her. She stepped in and walked right to the window, giving him her back.

  “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he said, emptying his pockets on the dresser. She nodded, so he left her to her thoughts.

  Although it seemed like he was taking an almost rude amount of time to shower, he felt unprepared to return to the room. Cursing under his breath, he stood in only a towel in the steamy bathroom, realizing the rest of his clothes were still on the chair.

  His heart wouldn’t settle and his head seemed to be pulsing. Drips fell from the faucet every few seconds, a ticking clock waiting for him to make a damn move.

  Taking an unsteady breath, he turned the knob and stepped onto the carpet. On the ottoman was a pile of neatly folded clothes and he recognized Nadia’s skirt—the one she’d been wearing.

  Slowly rounding the corner, his steps staggered as she turned, wearing the hotel robe. His gaze drifted to the nightstand where she’d placed something and he swallowed thickly. That was definitely a condom.

  He hesitated, unsure if he should make the first move or let her come to him. “Sorry I took so long.”

  “Do you know what I like about you, Elliot?”

  He hadn’t a clue. “No.”

  “You’re genuine. You don’t say much and I know you are always thinking, but when you look at me I find you trying to see beneath the surface.” Something sad flashed in her eyes and in that moment she was so strikingly stunning he could have fallen to his knees. “Most men only care about the surface. Very few think I have depth.”

  He swallowed. Of course, she had depth. He wanted to know everything about her. “I like getting to know you.” He looked down then returned his gaze to hers. “But I also think you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world.”

  Her mouth curved into a smile as a pink tinge crested her cheeks. Her hands went to the belt of the robe as her fingers untethered the fabric. His eyes widened as she parted the material, unveiling a smooth expanse of skin. The flash of her bellybutton ring registered just before the material fell to the ground.

  Dear God, she was totally naked. His mind blanked, as she stood before him utterly bare. Blinking, catching his breath, his gaze wandered down her smooth belly landing on the V of her sex. A chill swept over his shoulders as his body hardened. His towel wasn’t much of a disguise for the response she caused in him.

  Lifting his gaze to her face, he searched her eyes. There were no signs of laughter or teasing in her gaze. This was real. This woman—Nadia—was offering herself to him. Dear God, he was going to have a heart attack. Without thinking, his weight dropped to the ottoman and he sat.

  “Elliot?”

  “I just … need a minute.”

  Silence. “Do you want me to leave?”

  He shook his head. No, he wanted her to stay. He wanted to touch her and pleasure her better than any man ever had, but he didn’t have the first fucking clue how to do that.

  Stupid! He’d been reading Hungarian on the plane when he should have been studying other topics. But the possibility of actually sleeping with her never crossed his mind. This moment was so far from the realm of realistic possibilities he could barely process it. And now she was right in front of him—naked.

  She shifted, hiding her sex with a turn of her lithe body as her hip jutted forward and her arms closed over her chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll—”

  “Wait.”

  She blinked at him, midway to picking up her robe.

  Forcing himself to his feet, he pressed his lips tight. He couldn’t let her think she’d done anything wrong. This was his problem. And it was hardly a problem. Having the woman of his dreams naked in his hotel room was a complaint no man ever made.

  Drawing in a steadying breath, he confessed, “I want to do this right, Nadia, but I don’t know how.”

  Her relief was palpable as her posture eased and she exhaled. “Let it come to you. Natural.” Her feet whispered over the carpet as she approached slowly. Her fingers laced with his. “You do what feels right.”

  Nothing had ever come to him without immense focus and well-calculated determination. “Tell me what to do. I want to know what you like.”

  She held his hand and stepped closer to the bed. “I like when you touch me.”

  His other hand lifted, first cupping her hip, and then gliding slowly to her breast. Her skin was like silk, her fragility never more clear than in that moment of matched vulnerability when he heard her breath catch. He drew in a sharp breath as her nipples pebbled under the faintest caress.

  Directing his other arm, she placed his fingers over the soft pat
ch of hair at her apex. “And here.”

  His blood thickened. She was so warm, so delicate, slightly wet. His fingers slid lower as dewy heat greeted. She was soft, like a flower, and he feared bruising her.

  Turning his palm, he gently cupped her breast as his thumb treaded lightly over her nipple. Sliding the finger of his other hand forward, her folds parted before his touch and she drew in a long breath.

  He stilled, measuring her expression. “Is this okay?”

  “Inside,” she whispered.

  His brow tensed as he curved his finger, tucking it into her tight, hot slit and she moaned, catching her hands on his shoulders. With very careful movements, he fed the finger deeper. Heat engulfed his knuckle as her body tightened on his digit. The deeper he moved his touch inside of her, the more her slick heat gripped him.

  Her scent intensified, and his body reacted, tightening with dark yearning.

  Lowering herself to the bed, she pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.”

  Everything inside of him wanted to … ravage her, but he feared if he let his instincts take the lead he’d screw everything up and terrify her, never getting a moment like this back again.

  Her fingers cupped his jaw, turning his face to her as she pressed her mouth to his. “It’s okay, Elliot. I like your fingers inside of me.” Her hand traced over his. “Deeper.”

  His cock throbbed with desire. Breathing her in, his gaze caressed her breasts. He nudged his touch deeper and a soft gasp caught between them.

  Her knees fell open as he traced her folds, sliding his finger back and inside again. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  His mouth closed over hers, greedy and savoring every taste of her. His fingers continued to slip through her arousal, fondling her delicate folds and getting lost in her heat. She moaned into his mouth, her hands tightening on his shoulders.

  “More,” she pleaded.

  He kissed a trail down her neck, not stopping until he reached her breasts. Her body writhed and arched beneath him as her hand tightened over the one between her legs, directing his touch deeper.

  Her fingers tunneled through his hair while her other hand guided his. His lips closed over her nipple, pulling and sucking. Cool air teased his back as the towel snagged on the covers and fell away. She directed his wet fingers, sliding them over the tiny nub at the top of her sex. Following her lead, he rubbed in gentle circles and her breath caught, little sighs sewn together in a symphony of need.

  His mouth continued to suckle her breasts as he swapped his fingers for his thumb, rubbing as well as penetrating. Tiny hiccups met his ears as her body trembled and tightened.

  “Igen, igen, igen…” she cried, and her channel tightened around his intruding fingers as her body tensed, quaking with feminine shivers.

  Her hands slackened and fell to the bedding. He glanced between their bodies in awe as her belly rose with each quick breath. His fingers glistened. He studied her face, noting the gentle way her smile curved and her half-lidded eyes watched him.

  Should he let her rest? “Are you finished?”

  She laughed, her head lolling to the side in charming invitation. “I hope not. Women don’t need time, like men.”

  “Should I keep going?”

  She shifted her arms over her head, stretching out beneath him. “Please.”

  He could do more. Sliding his fingers between her legs, she gasped and sighed, opening her thighs wider. He pressed deep, slowly pumping in and out. This time she got there faster. Her body arched, rocking into his touch as she moaned his name, which drove his desire to a point of no return.

  Her feet burrowed into the mattress as she rocked her hips, urging him to penetrate faster. “Istenem,” she cried, her entire being trembling as a rush of heat met his hand.

  Mesmerized that he could do that to her—twice—he scooted lower. Her folds were glossy, darker than her skin elsewhere, and that little bud seemed to swell and throb. Keeping his touch light, he teased and she sucked in a breath, her knees falling open.

  His eyes widened as he saw the deep pink of her inner channel. His cock twitched, unbearably hard. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on the little bud and she moaned, her legs curling around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

  “Please. Don’t tease me, Elliot.”

  He hadn’t realized he was teasing, so he licked and she let out a litany of Hungarian words. Sliding a finger inside of her, he closed his lips over what seemed the central source of her pleasure and sucked. She arched, her fingers fisting his hair, holding him to her as he pulled and pumped his wrist.

  “Igen! Harder…”

  He thrust another digit inside of her, pumping quickly as he pleasured her with his mouth. She was wild, writhing, and greedier than he’d ever imagined.

  Her cries doubled as her sex contracted, squeezing his fingers. A guttural moan left her lips, sounding like his name, garbled with other syllables as she peaked and found her third release, this one the most dramatic of them all as every drop of her ecstasy seemed to flavor his tongue and her body arched beautifully off the bed.

  In awe, he stared at her trembling muscles, skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration. He’d never been so aroused in his entire life.

  His gaze darted to the nightstand. Condom.

  Catching his breath, he swallowed and searched her face. Her eyes were closed as sharp breaths passed her parted lips. Should he ask or just do it? Fuck.

  Dragging a hand over his mouth, he stilled as her scent perfumed his skin, her pheromones clinging to his fingers and lips, mixing with his own scent and driving his arousal up another degree. He crawled over her and kissed her lips. Startled, she opened her eyes and smiled, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered against his lips.

  God, he hoped so. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She smiled up at him, looking like a goddess beneath him. “I’ve wanted you since the night you rescued me, Elliot. I don’t think I’ll make it another day without having you.”

  Fuck, he had to be dreaming. Reaching for the condom, he examined the foil, searched for a tear line, his fingers slightly trembling with anticipation.

  Her hand closed over his. “Let me.”

  She placed the condom on the tip of his cock, the slightest touch making him flinch and suck in a fierce breath. Looking into his eyes, she grinned and rolled it down his length.

  Once it was in place, she eased back to the mattress, pulling him over her. Should he say something? Maybe he should thank her or remind her he’d never done this before?

  She moved her legs outside of his knees and waited.

  He broke eye contact, fumbling to find the right positioning as he shifted lower. The heat of her sex brushed his hand as he held his cock close to her opening, but he couldn’t bring himself to enter her, not without looking at her.

  His heart was beating so fast he feared he’d die before he ever got the chance to truly be with her. Something told him it would be different with anyone else. Easier. Less significant. But this was Nadia. Nadia, who he…

  Swallowing tightly, he lifted his gaze and stared into the prettiest brown eyes he’d ever looked upon, and froze. So many unfamiliar feelings raced through him, each one equally as pleasant as they were frightening. In that moment nothing was certain aside from his desire, and he understood so much about the weakness of man in the throes of passion.

  Perhaps he loved her. It made sense since no one else had ever captivated him to this degree. But how could he be sure of his feelings? Relationships weren’t a science. They were buoyant and flimsy and often irrational. It made no sense why a woman like Nadia would want a man like him.

  “Where have you gone, Elliot? I’ve lost you,” her soft voice murmured.

  He blinked down at her, a crushing fear that the consequences of their actions might swallow him whole and leave his well-organized world in a pile of rubble. While he might love her, she would never love him—at least
not to the same degree.

  In order to move forward, he had to accept that he would always care about her more. “I’m here. I was just thinking.”

  She laughed and pulled him a little closer. “Think later. I want you.”

  The perfect example of irrational logic. “I want you too.”

  “Then take me. Stop torturing me and making me wait.”

  Pulling his head low, her lips sealed to his and his body sank forward, her body welcoming him. Sharp ecstasy electrified his spine as her heat engulfed him. He didn’t pause until he was fully seated, and then he simply breathed. Amazing.

  Her hands coasted over his shoulders, down his back, and she lifted her hips. Jesus, she felt incredible. He drew back and thrust deep, knowing he only had a few seconds of ecstasy before he was spent—if that.

  Each stroke of her body against his stole more of his breath. Every thrust sent intense sensations through him until the effort to hold back any longer became excruciating.

  The over sensitized nerves in his body screamed for him to finish. He never wanted to come so hard in his life. The effort to last left him trembling and he hated that he couldn’t offer her something better.

  “I’m sorry, I need to… finish.” Even talking was torture.

  “Go ahead,” she whispered and he thrust hard, groaning as his release tunneled forcefully through his body. His soul felt turned inside out, wrung of every last drop of desire, but his wanting bloomed again with his next breath.

  He shut his eyes and lowered his head to her shoulder, catching his breath as his body quaked with relief. She combed her fingers through his hair as she held him, giving him time to recover as he trembled. It was heaven.

  “You’re not a virgin anymore, Elliot.”

  He chuckled. “No, thank God.”

  “Are you sorry?”

  He laughed harder. “No.”

  She nudged his chin until he looked at her. She whispered, “I have a part of you now, something no other woman can claim. I think I like that I was your first. You’ll never forget me.”

  Forgetting her had never been an option. “You’re incredible. I want to do it again, but…”