He couldn’t even make it to the bed with her body flush with his, knees buckling under him halfway there, sinking to the floor.
At that moment, as he fell to his knees with his arms locked around her, keeping her body glued to his chest to ensure she didn’t hit the floor as hard as he did before sitting her down gently before him, Mia hated him.
She hated him for making her do this.
He broke the kiss and leaned back, his full lips parted and eyes darkened with blind desire as he took her in, sitting on the floor before him with her arms cradled behind her body, her long legs spread wide on either side of him.
A strangled whimper parted her lips when he undid the tie around her waist and ripped her shirt open, sending buttons flying, exposing her nude form to him completely. Her erect nipples and swollen breasts rose and fell rapidly as her heartbeat pummeled her chest, sending buckets of blood surging to her pussy, leaving the folds wet and swollen with hunger. His heart must’ve pounded just as violently as hers, as evidenced by the solid heat between his own legs, just as swollen and engorged as the entrance between her thighs. An entrance that pumped wildly for his dick as it continued growing longer and wider. Standing to attention and making a tent in the thin fabric of his sweats.
He was huge. The biggest Mia had ever seen and certainly the biggest she’d ever had inside her. But she had only a moment to bask in his beauty. In the wonderment of just how the hell she was going to get all of him inside her. Of just how good it would feel when he finally filled her to the hilt. She only had a moment—because when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body to his once more, sucking one of her aching nipples into the warm cavern of his mouth, every thought in her body vanished into thin air and nothing else mattered but the intoxicating sensation of his wet, warm tongue encircling her aching nipple. Licking, nibbling, and sucking it as if trying to soften it and calm it down. The warmth of his lips and tongue only served to make it more angry with need, however, and she knew she could easily lay there and let him suck her hungry nipples for the rest of her life without a care in the world.
He seemed in no hurry either, languidly releasing one nipple from the tight suction of his lips with a plop before dragging his tongue-fueled kisses across her chest—never letting his lips leave her body—and drawing the other nipple into his mouth next.
A desperate cry left her lips, still glistening with their earlier kiss, and she sank the fingers of her free hand into his hair, trying to pull him in deeper, closer. She wanted him to swallow her whole. She wanted to sink inside him. To get as close as humanly possible.
The nail still clenched in one of her fisted hands nearly fell out and clattered to the floor.
And she hated him.
She hated him for how bad it felt when he abandoned the second nipple too, even though he continued pinching them between his trembling fingers as he dragged his lips and tongue slowly down her body. She hated him as he got to work kissing every inch of her naked body, covering as much ground as he could, never letting his lips leave her skin as if he were desperate to drink her inside him. And drink her in he did as he made it to the pulsing valley between her thighs, sinking his lips and tongue between the soaking folds of her pussy without a moment’s hesitation.
Mia screamed as he ate her, the fire of his lips buried deep inside her center, sending pangs of pleasure flashing through her that drove her legs apart as far as they could go. Sending wave after wave of pleasure rolling under her skin until her back was bent off the floor. The slippery stroke of his tongue against her clit never ceased, drawing a new cry, a new groan, and a new strangled weep from her lips—parted in amazement—with every languid lick.
It was only then that Mia realized it. She’d never had her pussy licked by a man she’d been this attracted to. She’d never known the euphoric feeling of surrendering to the maddening need to give every inch of herself to a man that she wanted every inch of too. And, boy, did she want every inch of him. Every inch of that monster still growing hard against his thigh. Every inch of it, sinking into her mouth so she could kiss it, lick it, and love it with the same patience and passion as he kissed, licked, and loved her right then. She wanted the crown of his dick at the back of her throat, trapped between her lips, the same way her glistening canal was trapped between his. She wanted to flick her tongue on the sensitive underside just like he flicked his against the aching bud of her clit. She wanted her fingers around his solid rod, kneading it and stroking it the same way his three thick fingers slid deep inside her entry and kneading her right then, stroking and massaging her wet walls in time with his tongue as he lapped at the throbbing nodule of her clit.
She wanted to use her mouth to bring him to the verge of explosion, the same way he was bringing her to the verge right then, rotating his head in a slow circle, lips nestled in her wetness. She wanted the blaze of fire hurtling through her body to blaze through his too. For his pants to move to desperate screams as his orgasm approached the way hers did right then. She wanted his back arched, his muscles contracting, his toes curling, and his lips begging.
“Please,” she whispered, her clit growing more sensitive with every flick of his tongue. She sank her fingers into his hair and held his head between her legs as her stomach tensed and then relaxed, a scream tearing up her throat as shot after shot of her powerful orgasm ripped through her. Shattering her bones until they were reduced to mush. Staining her vocal cords until they went hoarse. Her fractured screams grew so fervent she was sure the neighbors could hear through the open doors of the balcony. Her cries surely drowned out the gondolier still singing in the canal below and even the thunder still booming in the sky.
He continued licking and stroking her even as her body writhed with the residual convulsions of her orgasm. As if he could read her trembling body like a book, he seemed to know that it still had so much more to give. Still more aftershocks to come. Each one parting her lips a little farther, bending her back a little more, and tangling her fingers in his hair a little deeper as he drew every inch of pleasure he could from her body with his lips and tongue.
Mia rode the wave, a slave to his magical mouth, jerking and thrashing against his face until she was sure he’d drawn every tremor from her body. Every shot of pleasure. Every blaze of ecstasy.
Just when she was sure there was nothing left, he managed to find another, drawing one stunned whimper from her lips after the other until she really did have nothing more to give.
She collapsed onto her back with an amazed, heaving breath—her limbs reduced to mush.
And she hated him.
As the wave of her orgasm slowly ebbed away, the veins under her skin pumping with a little less fervor every second, the world slowly crystalized. Reality kicked in. The weight of the nail still trapped in her sweaty, fisted hand felt heavier than ever.
And she hated him for making her do this. For making her do it before she’d have the chance to bring him to the gasping apex of blind ecstasy that he’d just brought her. For stealing from her the gift of licking and kissing her way up his stomach and torso the way he did right then. She hated him for denying her the delight of making him as happy as he’d just made her.
But she knew she couldn’t let this go any further.
She’d only intended to soften him up with a kiss. Not for his head to end up between her legs, or for him to make her cum in less than five minutes. Or for him to continue kissing his way up her body right then, clearly just as ready to be inside her as she was.
She couldn’t let him. If she had lost her grip on control from one kiss of his lips, which had spiraled into him licking her pussy on the floor before she’d even realized what was happening, she couldn’t begin to imagine how much control she’d lose if they actually made love.
He’d be the first man she’d ever made love to by choice. By yearning. By wanton, hankering need. And then she’d have to watch as the only man she’d ever wanted as badly as she wanted him right then, han
ded her back over to Malik like she was nothing. She’d have to watch him become another name on the long, heartbreaking list she had kept in her head since she was thirteen years old. Another name—another person—abandoning her. Throwing her away like trash.
He buried his lips in her neck and nestled his hardness between her still-splayed thighs, and her heart skipped a beat.
If he gave her back to Malik, it would destroy her.
He would destroy her.
She had to destroy him first.
As he reached between their bodies, still suckling her neck, and dipped his fingers into the waistband of his sweats to free his dick, Mia shifted the nail in her hand so the sharp point was facing out, and then she swung. They both screamed when the sharp end of the prong sank into his neck, drawing instant blood. Clearly still encased in the depths of the desire, for a moment, he was stunned. Frozen solid. Motionless. When Mia yanked the nail out with a scream, he brought his hand up to his neck, almost blindly, and his green orbs widened when he came back with blood soaking his palm.
With a cry from the deepest depths of her soul, Mia took advantage of his stupefied state, reminding herself that he was going to give her back to Malik, that it had to be this way, and that she hated him for making her do this as she jammed her knee into his groin.
His dick was still hard, so she could only imagine the incredible pain that must’ve blazed through his body. Enough to paralyze him and bend him over at the hip with one hand covering the bleeding wound on his neck and the other on his dick as if he couldn’t decide which one was causing him more agony. Knowing he could sober up from the residual effects of the drunken desire still ebbing through him—as well as the pain she’d just caused him—and regain his strength any second, Mia moved quickly, using his moment of weakness to shuffle out from under him and circle around behind him, her bare breasts jiggling the whole way. Pussy still pumping in the wake of her orgasm.
With a heaving gasp, she grabbed the open flap of the shirt she still wore and wrapped it around his neck. Since the shirt was about ten sizes too big for her, she was able to get it wrapped around twice, pulling it as taut as she could. The sound of the fabric choking him filled the room, and she wrapped her legs around his waist for leverage, tightening her fist around the white fabric and using her weight to pull it even tighter.
Just like she’d known he would, he finally came to his senses. Even as she was choking him to death, he managed to stand to his feet, picking her up from where her legs were still wrapping around his waist from behind. She was stealing the air from his lungs, but he still didn’t thrash or fight. Instead, he moved to the bed as calmly as he could, stumbling under the weight of her body wrapped around him and the debilitating sensation of his airway being blocked. Once he made it to the edge of the bed, he reached over his head, sank his fingers into her hair, and bent violently forward.
Mia screamed as the move sent her flying over his head, her back slamming down onto the bed. His unexpected move caused her to lose her grip on the shirt around his neck, freeing him. Knowing he was seconds from hitting her with another retaliatory move—one that would surely debilitate her completely—her arms flew all over the bed in a flash, fingers clawing for anything she could use as a weapon. The first thing her fingers came upon was the lamp on the bedside table. She snatched at the cool glass that served as the lamp’s base and ripped it as hard as she could, pulling the chord clear out of the wall before breaking the glass over his head with all her might.
He groaned as the glass shattered against his skull and rained down to the floor all around him, releasing her. He nearly fell to his knees once more, looking dizzy, but braced his hands on the floor before he collapsed completely, breaking his fall with the tips of his fingers.
Mia scrambled up on the bed and then power-leaped over him, already feeling the stomp of his racing feet on her heels as she blazed into the kitchen, adrenaline pumping through her body so ferociously she didn’t even feel the pain in her foot anymore, her hair flying behind her as she ran, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
Flinging her heaving body onto the countertop, knowing he was right behind her, she snatched a butcher’s knife from the knife block on the counter. The kitchen light glared across the stainless steel blade just as another boom of thunder and a flash of lightning filled the room. Mia swung on her heel, raised the knife high over her head with both hands and hurled it down just as her captor came to a sliding stop behind her.
His eyes bulged at the sight of the blade coming down, straight for his chest, and he caught Mia’s hands in both of his, stopping her in the nick of time, with the sharp end of the knife less than an inch away from his skin. Both their chests heaved as they battled for control of the weapon. He was bigger. Stronger. But Mia held her own when he clenched his teeth, biceps pulsing as he tried to push the knife away from his chest—to push the handle toward her. Mia heaved back, struggling to push the blade forward, into his chest, thankful that, if she succeeded, it wouldn’t puncture his heart. Hoping that it would hurt him just enough to bring him to his knees so she could get the hell out of there. Leave him just debilitated enough to allow her to flee Venice before it had a chance to flood. Making it impossible for him to chase her.
Impossible for him to give her back to Malik.
It was the only thing that kept her fighting him right then. The hope that, if she did manage to stab him, it wouldn’t kill him. He’d be able to live—albeit without whatever it was he wanted from Malik. Whatever he wanted so badly that he had kidnapped her just to get it. He'd have to live without it. Her freedom was more important.
Free from Malik.
Free from captivity.
Free from that miserable house with an innocent little girl locked on the top floor.
Emma.
And, just like that, a gasp raced up Mia’s throat. Just the thought of Emma’s name caused a clarity to wash over her that made her brown eyes dash all over her captor’s face, still pulled taut as he fought to keep the knife out of his chest. Still struggling, Mia drank him in. His long hair, which had fallen out of its low bun sometime during their wild excursions that evening. His striking green eyes—never more filled with anger than they were right then. And his left eyebrow, with a deep scar straight down the middle, slicing it in half.
Realization sent a cold chill down her spine, widened her eyes, and took her breath away.
“That’s my mommy,” Emma said, softly, before moving her pointer finger to the picture of the man, a scowling behemoth who was breathtakingly handsome but also utterly intimidating, with a deep scar slicing his left eyebrow in half. Something striking, almost terrifying, lingered at the depths of his hooded green eyes. “And that’s my daddy—my real daddy.”
“Oh my God,” Mia breathed, her horrified eyes dashing all over his face, strands of the disheveled hair that had fallen across her own face dancing against her heaving breath. “You’re Emma’s father.”
He froze, his mouth falling open and his eyes spreading just as wide as hers.
Then the knife fell from both their hands and clattered to the floor.
23
“We ran his prints, Malik.” Hakeem took a deep breath. “He’s an American fugitive. Former cop. Allegedly behind a mass murder that went down in California last year.”
Standing behind his desk with a hand clasped over his downturned lips, Malik slammed his eyes closed.
“His name’s—”
“Lincoln Hill,” Malik finished, his eyes blinking open.
“You know him?”
Malik pressed his lips together tightly. “Killed the CEO and Chairman of Blackwater Cruises in cold blood, as well as their wealthiest shareholders which, in extension, got the cruise line shut down by the FBI. Billions lost.” That was just the cliff-notes version of the devastating blow Lincoln Hill had served to the largest trafficking operation in America. A ring with networks all over the world. It was a blow that had cost billions on all seven con
tinents. The aftershocks of which were still shaking some world’s wealthiest elite to their core, but thankfully, hadn’t yet touched Malik. If he had anything to do with it, it never would.
“The FBI investigation is still ongoing,” Hakeem said. “Arrests still being made. A huge bust, Malik. Intricate. Complex. It’ll go on for a decade, at least. He’s still at the top of the most wanted list. One call to Homeland Security and—”
“Emma’s mother?”
Hakeem took a deep breath. “Lisa Hill. Missing for over five years after being abducted during a cruise to Mexico. Hill never stopped looking for her. Her original procurer worked out of Guatemala, but she returned to Shadow Rock when his police unit set up a sting to entrap her pimp. Things went south, and she died in his arms. Must’ve told him about Emma then. Guess that’s what made him snap.”
Malik bared his teeth, eyes bugging out as he stared off into space. “This is exactly why whores should never be allowed to see their children after they’re born. And people say the Russians are heartless.” He sniggered. “To allow that whore to meet and fall in love with her daughter—and on more than one occasion! How foolish could they be? Igniting a world of fury in her that she’d eventually pass on to her brute of a husband.”
“Lisa was higher in the ranks. Considered loyal. Trustworthy enough to see Emma on occasion.”
“And look how trustworthy she proved herself in the end.”
“One call to Homeland Security and he’s extradited come morning.”
“Have you found out where he’s taken Mia?”
“Not yet, but we will. Especially with the help of the American authorities who want his head.”
Malik thought it through. “No. If he knows his wife was in the trade, then he knows Emma was too, and that I acquired her on the black market. He’ll sing like a bird if we extradite him back to his miserable country. Too much potentially negative attention. My opponent is out for blood and if he gets even a whiff…”
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