by Bella Rose
Then I heard Vasily walking into my bedroom. The old wood floors creaked as he moved. The gentle sound was in direct contrast to the rising flood of hormones surging through my body. By the time Vasily reached the bedside, I was practically heaving for each breath.
“Calm down,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said quickly. I wanted to be certain he knew this. “I’m nervous. They’re two different things.”
“What are you nervous about?”
The question was so mundane. It sounded as if we were talking about something completely unrelated to having sex with what amounted to a stranger. I took a deep breath and tried to verbalize what I was feeling. It wasn’t easy. “I’m nervous because I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Where had that come from? Talk about full disclosure. I’d just bared my soul out here, and I could only pray that he didn’t hand it back to me with a heaping dose of ridicule.
But he didn’t. Instead, Vasily reached out and very gently touched my arm. He stroked the soft skin and ran his fingers over my bicep and down toward my elbow and then my wrist. The tender touch was so not what I was expecting. Yet it calmed me in ways that nothing else could have. My heart steadied, my breathing evened out, and as he continued stroking me from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders, I grew almost drowsy with enjoyment.
“You’re so soft,” he told me. The timbre of his voice was pleasing to the ear.
My bedroom was near dark inside. The only light came from the living room lamps spilling in through the doorway. That meant Vasily was just a shadowy form to me. I could see no detail of his face or his form. There was nothing but his touch and the sound of his voice.
“I love the way you react for me, Anya. Your body tells me what you’re feeling.”
I wasn’t sure how that was possible exactly since I wasn’t moving, but I let it go. Why argue when I was getting the most lovely massage? Then his hands drifted to my belly. He touched my abdomen, circling my breasts and spiraling in until he had drawn my nipples into tight points. I panted a little and arched my back.
“Do you want more?” The sound of his voice came from far away, as though through a tunnel.
“Please!” I moaned the word, barely getting it out.
He grasped my breast and squeezed. Blood rushed into the nipple, and a deep ache developed between my legs. The stimulation was both pleasure and pain. It was delicious torture, and I didn’t want it to stop.
He repeated the same torment on my other breast, finally lowering his mouth to taste my nipple. He sucked hard and then bit down. I nearly leaped off the mattress as the sharp feeling made me gasp with shock.
Vasily only laughed. “You like that, do you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that. It was painful, yet it was also pleasurable. Perhaps the line between the two was a little hazier than I had once thought. But there was no more time to think about it when Vasily suddenly pushed his fingers into the cleft of my pussy and brushed over the top of my clit.
It was as if he had electrocuted me. The instant electricity shot through my body and all the way to the ends of my fingers and toes. It was incredible! I felt my inner muscles clench tightly with need. If Vasily didn’t put his cock inside me soon, I was afraid I couldn’t be responsible for my behavior.
Vasily
I wanted Anya so badly that I thought my cock was going to explode. Every ounce of my blood was rushing to my groin, and all I could do for the moment was enjoy the sensation of touching this incredibly responsive woman. She was a dream come true. Each reaction was bold and honest. It was as if there was no fear in her whatsoever.
I gently kissed her belly, working my way down to her mound. I could smell the heady feminine aroma of her pussy, and I felt my mouth watering. Tasting her would be heaven, but tonight I needed to fuck. I wanted to bury my cock inside her hot body and mark her as my own. There was something primal and fierce about that sensation, and I could not deny it. This woman was mine, and I needed to let the world know it.
Placing my knee on the bed, I lifted her knees and spread them wide. Her thighs quivered beneath my hands. I used my palm to smooth a trail down the insides of both legs. I paused at the sensitive skin behind her knee, and she shivered. Then I began to inch back up toward her crotch. I knew she was wet. I could smell it. But that did not prepare me for the sweet creamy reality of her pussy. When I spread that bounty with my fingers, I almost growled my satisfaction. This was what I had wanted—what I had always wanted. A woman who would respond to me with no holds barred.
I grasped the shaft of my cock in one hand and held myself steady. Then I fit the end of my cock to her tight little opening. She was going to be hot and snug, and I was going to be lucky if I lasted two seconds once I was buried within her. I went slow, not wanting to split her in half. Still, I heard her gasp as I penetrated her in one long, smooth thrust.
“Vasily!” she cried out, her hands closing around my biceps as she held tight.
I didn’t stop. How could I? I needed to be inside her. Inch by agonizing inch until I felt my balls bump up against her ass. Then I paused for just a moment to let her adjust. My little vixen was having none of that. She began to squirm beneath me. Her inner muscles bore down on my cock, and she thrust her breasts into the air.
I reached down and gave each of her nipples a tug and a twist. The attention seemed to distract her from what I was doing with my cock. She stilled, and then she arched her back hard. The new position sent my cock skidding against that sweet pad of muscle just inside her entrance. I felt her tremble and knew she was close. So was I. Each stroke I made only pushed me higher.
I backed out and then thrust home again. Over and over I did this until my balls were tight beneath me and rivulets of sweat ran down my naked chest. I needed her so badly. I needed to come inside her. I needed to know she was mine.
Her whimpers echoed off the bedroom walls. They rang in my ears. I shut my eyes and began slamming my cock into her body. She met me with each thrust, only asking silently for more. Her body surrendered to mine. I felt her inner muscles begin to tighten around my shaft. My climax burned at the base of my spine, and I knew that I was almost there. No time. There was no time to wait.
I opened my eyes and stared down at this stranger who was my lover. “Come for me, Anya. Now. Give me what I want.”
And just like that her body convulsed into a powerful orgasm. The muscles in her haunches tightened. Contractions ripped through her pussy, and her belly grew taut as she came hard and just for me.
The satisfaction was unmatched. I came instantly. I poured my cum into her welcoming heat. Leaning over her, I surged hard against her cleft and gave her everything I had. I held nothing back and marked her with everything that was in me. I wanted no question as to who this woman belonged to. After tonight she was mine. She would always be mine. There was no question in my mind about it.
I collapsed to the bed beside her. Gathering Anya into my arms, I cradled her next to my chest and sighed with contentment. She was already dozing, and I was preparing to spend an entire night in the bed of a stranger. Not just any stranger, but a woman I had been contracted to protect. It was the absolute opposite of the way my life generally worked.
I was a killer. There was no doubt in my mind about it. I reveled in violence and wiped the blood of my victims on my clothes as though it were nothing. I would shoot a target just as easily as I might stab one. It made no difference to me, which made me a very violent man. It was not in my nature to be soft.
And yet as I lay there in Anya’s bed gazing down at the shadowy details of her face, I could not help but wonder if there wasn’t a different life out there to complement my existence as an assassin. Perhaps there was a way to maintain my edge but enjoy the softer side of life too. There was a part of me that wished this assignment would go away completely. I didn’t want there to be a monetary reason or an order behind my decision to protect An
ya. Because if I were honest with myself, I would have to admit that I would most happily protect this woman for free.
Chapter Six
Anya
I won’t lie. Waking up in my bed with Vasily still beside me was amazing. My alarm went off like usual. But when I went to roll over and shut it off, there was a very large and very warm body in the way. So instead of me turning the alarm off, Vasily did it. The whole thing was weirdly domestic and very satisfying in ways I wasn’t yet ready to explore.
Resting on my back, I indulged myself thinking about how badly my father would freak out if he had any idea of what I had done. Papa was more than a little protective. He couldn’t help it really. When you were a criminal who spent all your time around other criminals playing a game to see who could be the best criminal, it sort of ruined your opinion of people.
“Good morning.” Vasily’s voice was wonderfully raspy. “I hope you don’t mind that I stayed the night.”
“No, not at all,” I said. Maybe I spoke too quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was some weirdly desperate spinster. “You’re not much of a bed hog,” I told him to lighten the mood a bit.
He chuckled and rolled onto his side. There was enough light seeping around my closed blinds that I could now see his expressions. The man was still handsome as an angel and twice as dangerous. I hesitantly reached out to touch his face. He let me, remaining still as I stroked the blade of his nose and the strong line of his jaw.
“What do you see?” His voice was whisper soft.
“A very handsome man.” I realized something then. “I don’t know anything else about you.”
“You will learn.”
The words were so decisive. How strange. And how did he propose that I get to know him if this was essentially a one-night stand? Oh. That thought was not appealing to me at all. I didn’t want this to be a onetime thing.
He smoothed the frown lines between my eyebrows. “What are you thinking?”
“That I don’t do one-night stands very well,” I admitted. There was no reason to hide what I was thinking. “I’m feeling a little reluctant to let the night end.”
He glanced at the clock. “But you’re going to be late for work.”
“How do you know that?”
The expression on his face mystified me. What was with all the enigmatic glances and such? “Your alarm just went off. It’s a safe bet that you set your alarm with just enough time to get ready as most people do. That means if you linger any longer in bed, you’re going to be late.”
“Oh.” For some reason I felt let down. What was I hoping? That the guy had been stalking me or something? Talk about insane.
“Will I see you again?” I felt like an idiot for worrying about it.
“Yes.” He didn’t say anything else. He was already up and out of the bed. He headed into the living room to get his clothes. “I’ll find you. I promise.”
“That’s rather one-sided,” I pointed out, feeling weirdly nervous. “You know, I’m not really big on people just surprising me around town.”
“It will be fine.”
And with that very decisive statement, he was gone. The front door opened and closed, and he was simply gone as though he had never been. It was very disconcerting. I had to force myself out of bed and into the shower. The entire time I got ready for school I was moping and wondering if I had just been taken advantage of by some serial player. That would have been the icing on the cake. Really. My father was always saying that sort of thing about me. I didn’t want it to be true.
Finally I was dressed, ready, and getting into my tiny little car to drive to school. It was only ten blocks away, but as a history teacher I often had more than my fair share of heavy tomes to lug along with me. Today was no exception. I got out of the car with a load of books in my arms and barely managed to get into the building without dropping the stack. I made it all the way to my classroom before I was spotted by any of the other teachers.
“Hey you!”
I gave a little squeak and flung the entire stack of textbooks up into the air. They rained down on me like a hellish storm of heavy paper with sharp corners. I rubbed my head where I’d just gotten clocked by one and danced a bit to keep them from hitting my feet.
“Daisy, that’s not funny,” I told the departmental aide. “Seriously, you could have given me a heart attack.”
“No more so than any other morning,” Daisy said drolly. “So, did you have a nice night last night? I know you and your dad were supposed to have a meeting. How did that go?”
Daisy was one of the few people who knew who my father was. She was trustworthy, but she had also been my friend since college. It had been incredibly helpful over the years to have someone to put up with the weirdness of having a notorious parent.
“I met a guy.” I knelt and began to pick up the books.
I could positively feel Daisy’s gaze ripping straight through me. “You met a guy.”
“I did.” And I realized that I didn’t want to talk about it. The experience had changed me. I had invited a complete stranger to spend the night in my bed. He had ordered me to strip naked. He had brought me unimaginable pleasure, and when he had commanded it, I had climaxed for his enjoyment.
“Okay, then.” Daisy sounded off. And then I realized that I was the one that was off. And perhaps I didn’t even want to be back “on” again.
Vasily
I am not a man who likes to wait. I prefer action. So when I pushed my way into the Orlovs’ restaurant that morning, I didn’t have lunch plans on my mind. I saw the two men I’d faced last night almost immediately. Pyotr was lounging against the bar, and his comrade was sitting beside him. Both had insolent looks of stupidity on their faces.
“So tell me,” I said as I bellied up to the bar. “Which one of you wants to pay first for your idiocy last night?”
Pyotr curled his lip, drawing it away from his yellowed teeth and hissing at me like a rabid animal. “Go to hell, Vasily.”
“Fine. You first.”
I drew a knife from my jacket and hefted the handle in my hand. It was smooth to the touch, and yet I knew the blade was deadly sharp. Before Pyotr could open his mouth a second time, I grabbed his hand and pinned it to the bar top with my knife. The blade sank into his flesh, bypassing bone and sticking into the wood where it stayed.
Blood gushed wet and sticky over Pyotr’s hand. My fingers came away red, but I took them and wiped them across Pyotr’s face before turning to face his friend. The other man’s round look of surprise did him no favors. I grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled him forward, and bashed his face with my forehead.
I felt the cartilage in his nose crunch beneath the blow. His nose ran red with blood that soaked the front of his shirt. It didn’t deter me. I grabbed him once again and dragged him closer. Behind me, Pyotr was gasping and crying as he grabbed at his hand. My knife stuck fast in the bar, and each time he tried to get it free he only sliced more of his hand in the process. The raw mess of flesh was seeping all over the dark wood, the grain becoming mottled with blood and tissue.
“Now,” I said to them both. “Shall we begin again?”
“Our boss sent me and Dimitri after the girl,” Pyotr said breathlessly. His face was pale, and he looked in danger of fainting.
I gazed at the man—Dimitri apparently—that I was still holding. I grabbed his broken nose by both nostrils and pulled them painfully upwards. He stood on tiptoe, trying to ease the pressure. It didn’t work. Nothing would. These men deserved to pay for what they had done.
“You don’t attack her again.” I let the words hang. “Ever.”
“Okay.” Pyotr was nodding. “Just get it out.”
“You don’t touch her. You don’t even look at her. She’s mine, my property, and under my protection.” I knew what those words seemed to imply, and I didn’t care.
I tripped Dimitri and sent him crashing to the floor. Placing my boot over his throat, I leaned into the contact an
d watched his face turn red from lack of air. The way the blood vessels popped out of his skin and eyes fascinated me. Air was vital for life. Depriving a man of that necessity made him a slave to my will. I knew that.
A shot of satisfaction went through me. I was done here. If I lingered any longer I might run the risk of another Orlov getting involved. Not that I didn’t relish the opportunity for a little more bloodshed, but these were freebies and I had paying jobs to take care of.
“What do you care?” Pyotr gasped. “What does that woman mean to you?”
Keeping my boot on Dimitri’s throat, I turned and wrenched the knife out of the bar. Pyotr doubled over, grabbing his hand and cradling the useless limb to his chest. But I wasn’t done. I slipped the blade beneath his chin and forced him to look up at me. I could feel the sharp edge sliding into the soft underside of his throat. The skin there parted like warm butter. It would have been nothing to change the angle and slide that knife into his throat completely. I could have ended his worthless existence, except he had a purpose just yet.
“I claim her,” I told them both. “Anya Romanov is mine. If you touch her, you’re challenging me. Is that understood?”
“Yes!” Pyotr was the only one to answer. Dimitri could not speak with my boot cutting off his airway.
Now I lowered the knife and let Pyotr step away. It was so tempting to end it for him. To draw back my arm and let the blade fly. It would sink to the hilt in the soft flesh of his throat. He would choke on his own blood, slowly suffocating to death as he was unable to breathe. It was a painful way to die, and yet it made a rather emphatic point to anyone who saw the results.
“Do you still question me?” I looked from one to the other, removing my boot from Dimitri’s throat.
It was all Dimitri could do to regain his ability to breathe. He didn’t respond to my demand. That wasn’t acceptable. I pulled my leg back and let fly with a kick that flipped him to his other side. I felt his ribs give against the laces of my shoe and felt the most delightful sensation of satisfaction at the injury. Dimitri was out for a while. So was Pyotr. Let Orlov come up with something else to bother Anya. I would be ready.