by Evelyn Glass
“He’s not as inscrutable as you think,” I reply, thinking of the tender moments between us, the kiss, sleeping close together, the way he charged to protect me from Barinov without a second thought.
I run into the night, through the grass and toward the hill.
When I reach the bottom of the hill, I look up. There, silhouetted against stars and moonlight, stands Roma. He’s a shadow and I can’t possibly be sure, but I think he’s watching me.
“Stay where you are!” I shout.
He turns away.
I growl under my breath. What were all those hours in the gym for, if not for this? Ignoring the way the boots weight my feet down, I sprint up the hill, pumping my legs beneath me. They still ache from the swim, but I ignore it.
You’re not getting away from me, I think. There’s no way in hell. You saved me, now stick by me!
I sprint so fast I reach the top of the hill in less than five minutes. I stand at the top, stretching my legs and searching the landscape below. About ten miles away, a small village sits within the grasslands, lights shining from the windows. I walk to a tall tree and lean against it, getting my breath back.
Maybe he’s gone to the village—
He steps out from behind the tree.
“Felicity,” he says, shrouded in darkness.
I turn to him. “Roma.”
Chapter Eighteen
Felicity
“You’ve been watching me,” I say.
It isn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact.
“I have.” He nods shortly. I can’t see his face; the shadow of the tree blocks us from the diamond-like lights in the sky. “I couldn’t have you roaming into the night and getting lost, maybe going to the village and running into somebody . . .”
I step into the light. “Come here, please,” I say.
“I’m fine here.” His voice is tight.
“You don’t want me to see your face,” I note.
“Maybe that’s true.”
“I’m asking you nicely.”
“I know.”
I sigh, throw my hands up. “You left me, Roma, with a stranger.”
“A stranger . . .” He shakes his head and steps into the light. His eyes are so full of emotion I struggle to believe I’m looking at the man I met on the yacht. He looks into my face, his mouth set in a thin line. “What am I, Felicity, if not a stranger to you?”
I step close to him, reach my hand out, meaning to touch his face. He dodges deftly aside.
“You’re not a stranger,” I say, wounded but not showing it. “You know that. I don’t believe you don’t feel what I feel. I don’t believe the kiss, the lap dance, the swim—all of it. I don’t believe it had no effect on you. I think it had as much effect on you as it had on me. I think . . . Tell me why you left, Roma.”
“Maybe I’m not the man you think I am,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I demand, unable to hide the exasperation from my voice. “You saved me from Barinov. I’ve thought about this. If you were really as cold as you first seemed, you would’ve let him—” I swallow dryly. I was about to say rape me. “You would’ve let him do what he wanted to do,” I finish. “But you didn’t. Surely that made your job more difficult.”
“I don’t think the ambassador would be very happy to find out his daughter was—”
“Bullshit,” I say. “That wasn’t why you did it. I saw it in your face. You protected me, Roma. You protected me without hesitating for a second. You killed for me. And now you want to leave me. Please, just tell me why.”
He brings his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t be with you,” he says. “I just can’t.”
“Why?” My voice rings out over the hills, a siren’s song toward the village.
“Because you’re too good for me, Felicity. That’s the truth. You’re way too good for me.”
“You saved me.” I feel like a broken record, but how can I not when he point-blank refuses to see? “You saved me,” I breathe. “Just tell me why you tried to leave.”
“I can’t . . .”
I close the gap between us. My heart thuds. What if he steps away again? I stand close to him, my nose almost touching his chest, and crane my head up and look up into his face. He stares down at me, mouth stern, face impassive except for the crashing emotion in his eyes.
“You can’t what?” I say.
He opens his mouth, looks as though he is going to say something, and then clamps it shut. Then his hands dart out and he grabs my shoulders. I know he’s not grabbing me with even one-tenth of his strength, but I’m still astonished by his power. He could crush me.
“I bought you,” he says, voice husky. “Is that what you want, Felicity? Do you want me to treat you like property?”
Despite the situation, my body comes alive at the vice-like grip of his hands, the deep timber of his voice. Tingles move down my arms and through my body, into all the sweet places where pleasure is born. My pussy aches and my nipples become hard. I bite my lip and I see his expression change, from anger and pain to pure, unrestrained lust.
“Maybe that is what I want,” I sigh, standing on my tiptoes.
His chest trembles, his arms tremble, everything trembles. He’s trying to stop himself but he is just as lost as I am. Maybe he doesn’t want to because he’s my father’s employee, but I doubt it. I think he’s scared of what he feels; I think he fears the power I have over him.
“Fuck.”
One word, breathed, the air warm on my face. He pulls me close to him and leans down.
When our lips touch, everything falls away. The hill, the argument, the uncertainty, the village, the sky, the stars, the moon, the tree, the blades of grass. It’s just us.
His body presses against mine and I tremble with pleasure.
Chapter Nineteen
Roma
I need her and I can’t fight it any longer.
I’ve been drowning and she is my only lifeline. She’s opened up things inside of me I never even thought were there. She’s changed me. She’s made me think, for the first time in my life, about who and what I am.
And now her tight, lithe body is pressed against mine. I feel her breasts crushed against my chest and listen to her frantic breathing and I know that she wants it just as much as I do.
She trembles in my arms and I grip her harder. She lets out a long sigh of pleasure.
This is it, I think. After this, I am hers. After this, Mr. Black can go to hell. I am hers. She is my life. The hitman’s life can go to hell along with Mr. Black.
She is mine. I am hers.
She is mine.
I am hers.
She is—
But thinking is impossible now. Pleasure shrouds us.
Chapter Twenty
Felicity
We smash our lips together so hard I feel my teeth hit his. He moans deeply, more of an animal’s growl, and lifts me off my feet. My arms ache from where his hands grip me, but I don’t care. It’s part of the pleasure. His strength, his intimidating strength, the power of him. He growls and I moan as we kiss. We open our mouths and our tongues touch, brushing, and then whirring around each other as though in a dance.
He places me on my feet and lets go of my shoulders. One hand moves down to my ass, gripping it hard. I imagine my ass cheek going red with his handprint and a thrill of pleasure moves through me. The other hand reaches down and grabs my crotch. I reach down and grab the front of his pants. His cock is huge, the biggest cock I have ever touched. It presses through his pants and into my hands like an iron rod, urgent, insistent. I rub it up and down and he growls even deeper.
He rubs my pussy fast, his arm pumping. All his killer’s power goes into the effort of rubbing me. He squashes my clit against my pussy and pushes down on it with such power I’m almost lifted off my feet again.
Then he breaks off the kiss and looks down at me, his face no longer uncertain. He is sure about this, I can see. He is absolutely certain
this is what he wants to do.
I unbutton his pants as fast as I can. They fall down his ankles and his cock springs up and hits me in the belly. It’s nine inches, at least, so hard it sticks almost straight up. I look down at it, biting my lip. I’ve never felt such anticipation for a cock before. It’s Roma’s cock, and that means so much more. I grab it at the base and rub hard, fast.
“Fuck . . .”
He unbuttons my pants and yanks them down, and then immediately slides his finger inside of me. I had no clue how wet I was until now; his finger slides in easily, without any resistance at all. He slides deep inside of me and my body is gripped with pleasure. It’s like a giant’s hand grabs me tight and throws me around. He pushes his finger deep inside of me, rubbing my sweet spot. I close my eyes and—
The orgasm hits me like a gunshot out of nowhere. My chest pulsates and everything trembles and I throw my head back, moaning without reserve.
Then it passes and I see that Roma’s face is stern. “I can’t wait any longer,” he breathes. “I need you.”
Without waiting for my response, he steps out of his pants. Then he lifts me off my feet, my pants falling to the grass, and lays me flat. The grass tickles my spine, sending shivers all over me. I look up as Roma leans over me, his shoulder muscles bulging through his shirt. I can’t stop myself. I grab him by the shirt and lift it over his head, throw it aside. His torso is taut, his pecs rock-solid and his belly a firm slab of muscle. I grab his arms, feeling the well-defined muscles, and stare into his eyes.
“Fuck me, Roma,” I moan. My pussy pricks with longing for his cock.
He props himself up with one arm, reaches down, and guides himself inside of me.
Holy. Fuck.
Holy fuck!
Holy fucking fuck!
His cock stretches me wider than I ever thought I could go, a huge mass pushing inside of me. He goes deeper and deeper and reaches places no man ever has before. He hits my sweet spot, the tip of his cock pressing it, and then he holds it for a moment. His jaw is clenched and his chest rises and falls rapidly.
“You’re the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I make to respond—then he thrusts in and out, and words are lost to me.
He pounds into me hard and I know it’s because he can’t stop himself. His cock is huge and rhythmic, in and out, in and out, deep and fire-hot. My pussy is on fire, burning. I bring my hands to his back, feel the shifting pack of muscle as he fucks me. He’s like a wild wolf finally let out of the cage. He’s wanted this since he first saw me. He’s wanted this since the first second he laid eyes on me. This drives me on. I push my hips up to meet him, matching his pace, and we fuck greedily.
His breath touches my forehead and his cock is a jackhammer, never missing a beat, pulling me into its boiling-hot pleasure. Soon, my mind empties and all I feel is his cock. This has never happened to me before. Usually, I’m self-conscious during sex. But not with Roma. I look into his face but I barely see it. I barely hear his grunts. My world has shrunk down to one sensation. His pounding cock.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck!”
In and out, in and out, so fast it’s like one huge movement.
I feel the orgasm building, a wave inside of me, as though my insides want to explode in a tsunami of tingles and burns and pulses.
“I’m going to—”
Words become impossible.
“Come,” he urges, voice deep. I know he’s close, too, but he’s waiting for me to finish. “Come for me, Felicity.”
I can’t—
The wave builds and builds and then—
I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath before the orgasm hits me. My body seizes up. My pussy goes tight around his cock. The waves break and push through my body, causing me to gyrate. Pleasure like I have never experienced, pleasure I never dreamed was possible, attacks me. I dig my fingernails into his skin, feel the skin break, but he doesn’t so much as wince.
Yes, yes, yes, yes!
The orgasm takes me violently, throws me about, and then I’m left panting, lightheaded, disoriented.
“Thank fuck,” Roma breathes, pounding into me one last time, burying himself right to the shaft inside of me.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
I reach up and touch his face as he comes inside of me.
“Fuck,” he repeats, falling to the side.
We lay still for what feels like a long time, under the moon and the stars. Faraway, a bird sings out into the night.
Then Roma lifts his arm. Without needing to discuss it, I climb into him and rest my head on his chest.
“That was—”
“I know,” I interrupt. “I felt it, too.”
It was like our bodies knew each other, like they had been waiting our entire lives for us to meet, and only then would they reach their full potential for pleasure. I close my eyes, too exhausted to think about getting dressed, too exhausted to think about where we are. Too exhausted, even, to think about Roma walking into the night.
I’m content in a way I haven’t been in weeks. Roma caresses my shoulder and I hear in his breathing that he is just as tired as me.
Then I close my eyes, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Roma
I wake with sunlight on my face and Felicity in my arms.
I keep my eyes closed for a long time, savoring this moment. I am hers now, make no mistake, and she is mine. The thought of leaving her now disgusts me. I can’t believe I even tried it. I’m so glad she caught up with me I can’t even put it into words. Something happened last night, something which has never happened with any other woman. We fucked, but it was more than that. The phrase making love comes to mind. I never knew what it meant until now.
“Are you awake?” Felicity’s voice is dreamy.
“Yeah.” I smile when she kisses my chest. Such a simple gesture, and yet so full of meaning.
What about the job, Roma? a voice whispers. A hateful voice. What about your life? You know you can’t stay with this woman, can’t ever really be with her—
I shut it out.
“Last night was something else,” Felicity says, joy and shock mixing in her voice. “Really something else.”
“I know.” I open my eyes and look down at her. She’s looking up at me, a sweet smile on her face, her cheeks bright red. She looks fresh and young and carefree, not at all like a woman who was taken hostage by perverted Russians. Not for the first time, I admire her resilience.
“What now?” she asks.
I swallow. “We get you back to the States, back home,” I say.
“But we’ll still see each other, won’t we?”
The future, the damned future. There’s so much to think about.
I’m about to answer when I see it. A swirling tower of smoke down the hill . . . Coming from Bear’s cottage.
I’m on my feet in a second, bending down and grabbing my clothes.
“What are you—”
Felicity stops when she looks down the hill and sees it, too. The smoke rises high into the air, curling fingers of smoke dominating the skyline. It’s a wonder we didn’t notice it earlier. It’s a wonder we didn’t smell it, there’s so much of it. That’s love for you, the same snide voice whispers. It blinds a man.
“You should stay here,” I tell her. “Wait for me—”
“Like hell I will,” Felicity says, pulling on her pants. “You might need backup.”
I make to argue with her, but I see there’s no point. Her hands are on her hips and she won’t be budged. I guess it’s because I tried to leave her last night. But surely she knows I couldn’t do that, not now, not after . . .
“Okay,” I say. “Just stay close.”
I shouldn’t be going anywhere near it. If Bear’s cottage is on fire, it can only mean one thing. Mr. Black’s agents are here, in France. They’ve found Bear and if they’ve found Bear, it means they’ve found me, too. They mu
st know about Barinov’s death. Maybe Mr. Black has Russian contacts. I wouldn’t be surprised. And if he knows about Barinov’s death, my train of thought barrels as I jog down the hill, then he might know about me and Felicity. What will he make of that? I think of him now, sitting in the shadows as he so often does, spit flying as he roars at me. I don’t fear him. But I know the life well enough to understand that with a click of his fingers Mr. Black could have one-hundred hard bastards on my heels.