The Lion in Russia

by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  She turned to straddle him looking down at him she brushed his hair back from his forehead, the followed that touch with a kiss. She kissed each beloved feature in turn; his prominent nose, the slash of his cheekbones, those clear gray eyes that showed each emotion like a billboard. Right now they smoldered. His mouth, which was so full it wouldn’t be out of place on a woman’s face, drew her attention next. She took his bottom lip between her own and slowly caressed it with her tongue. Tasting his salty flesh and masculine flavor, then she sucked on it, loving its resiliency against her tongue. She began to grind her clit against the heavy erection behind the soft wool trousers he wore. He groaned under her mouth and before she knew it, she was on her back on the sofa.

  Leo began undressing her almost as quickly; wool pants and cashmere turtleneck no barrier to his passion. Vries stretched under his hands wanting to purr like a kitten. There was something so primal about being naked in front of a roaring fire, especially when he was still clothed. He looked down at her body, the possessiveness in his gaze made her arch her back wanting to show off and preen for him. He kissed her again, then slid down her body, he nudged her legs apart and within moments had his face just inches from her pussy. He took his time, his breath teasing her hot flesh, tickling the sparse curls that framed the glistening pink opening. Leaning closer, he kissed the damp lips, outlining her folds with the tip of his tongue, exploring her with his mouth. Vries was instantly aroused. Leo lapped at the moisture that leaked from her, pressing his tongue in farther with each pass.

  He opened her with his fingers as his mouth found her clit, sucking gently on the small nub. Vries arched her back, overwhelmed by the sensation of the wet tugs of his mouth as two fingertips nudged into her pussy, sliding easily through the moisture. He circled her clit with his tongue, smaller and smaller circles, until he pressed against the very center of the sensitive nerve bundle. At the same time, he drove his fingers deep into her wet channel, drawing a longing wail from Vries. She pressed her palms against the couch so she could thrust her hips up, closer to Leo’s talented mouth. Sucking in rhythm with his delving fingers, he drove her higher and higher, using his lips and tongue and teeth to draw pleasure out of the deepest parts of her.

  Vries’s muscles clenched, trying to hold the slippery invader inside, but his tongue evaded her grasp and disappeared. Before she could even register her dismay at his withdrawal, his finger replaced his clever tongue, working its way more deeply into the clutching passage. A second digit joined the first, thrusting their way into her body as his lips found her stiff, eager clit and sucked, his tongue flicking the delicate nub.

  Tension built in Vries, fueled by each stroke of his tongue, by each plunge of his fingers. Sobbing for breath, she thrust her hips at him, grinding her pussy against his mouth and hand. Leo pulled his fingers free and slid them back, soaking and slippery with the evidence of her excitement.

  Then softly, gently he slipped his penis inside her questing vagina. Her body absorbed him as the parched earth absorbs water. Their gazes met and held as they rocked together. Sweetly. Sweetly. The tenderness of the moment was almost more than she could handle. The feeling intensified with each slow grind and Vries could tell he was deliberately slowing the pace. Dragged it out. He leaned over and took her mouth under his in a series of kisses so ephemeral she craned her neck trying to capture more of him, but he pulled away only to return for more mere seconds later.

  The caress of his lips and tongue matched the movement of his hips. Unhurried. Methodical. Each time she tried to speed up he’d grab her hips and hold them immobile while he slowed down even more. Again and again until the intensity of it sent tears seeping out the corners of her eyes. He leaned down and sipped them away.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, totally incapable of speech, which was a good thing. God only knows what she’d say if she could actually form sentences. He slowed down even more. His thick cock slid into her slippery channel stimulating every nerve ending inside along the way. Again and again he rubbed the head against her throbbing clit sending delicious sensations coursing through her body. Their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat as their flesh strained together, striving for completion.

  From the way his neck was chorded and from the strain on his face, she could tell this was costing him. Seeing his what? was as intense as her own, she kissed him again, holding him in place when he would’ve pulled back. Sucking strongly at his tongue, she reached between his legs and stroked his balls. That was all it took. A groan rumbled from his chest, deep and desperate, and his kiss turned fierce, eating at her lips as if he were starving. Their mouths fought each other, teeth and tongues clashing as they battled to get closer. With a roar he began slamming into her like a madman. Pushing her legs back until her thighs rested on her breasts he assaulted her pussy, pounding into her until she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it. When her orgasm finally came, it wracked her body at the same time that he began grinding out his own completion. Then he collapsed on her. He was still half-hard, so he didn’t pull out.

  Vries laughed. “Geez Leo, what were you trying to do? Kill me?”

  He murmured something against her neck as he rolled over and pulled her atop him on the sofa.

  “What?”

  “I said, it felt so good, I wanted it to last and last.”

  “You’re right; it was amazing.”

  “We must go upstairs. I don’t want anyone to come in here and see you naked.”

  “What about seeing you naked?”

  He shrugged. “They’ve seen that plenty of times.”

  Vries sat up to begin getting dressed. There were some things she really didn’t want explained.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t want you to come to the trial.”

  Vries rolled her eyes at him. Yeah, like that was going to happen. “Where you go, I go.” They’d spent much of the rest of the previous day in bed, but hadn’t discussed the political situation any further. She was surprised he was bringing it up again first thing in the morning.

  “If all my employees were as loyal as you are I could rule the world. I hope you were well-compensated for your devotion.”

  Vries inhaled sharply. She couldn’t believe he still thought…of course he didn’t. He just wanted to make her angry enough to leave. “I thought you already did.”

  “I have plenty of security.”

  “Which, as you already pointed out, might be loyal to you, or could be in the pay of the sonofabitch trying to kill you. At the very least, my commitment to keeping you alive cannot be questioned. Even if you do doubt my motives for sleeping with you in the first place,” she said proud that none of the hurt from his words showed in her voice.

  He closed his eyes briefly, his frustration palpable. “You know the last man who testified at a corruption trial wound up dying in prison himself. Probably after being tortured. Nobody knows what killed him.”

  “Well it wasn’t polonium. Putilin only uses that poison because it’s so easy to trace. He wants people to know he did it. And yes I know what’s happened to the other people who tried to do something about corruption in this country. I’ve been pointing that out to you for days.”

  “What do you think will happen to you if I’m arrested?”

  Vries smiled. The way he was trying to protect her was so sweet. “Probably not a helluva lot. I’m not Russian. Everyone thinks I’m just your trophy girlfriend. With any luck I’ll be on the first flight back to Milan.”

  He frowned at her, studying her face as though trying to read her expression. “Promise me that.”

  “Promise you what? I have no control over what your government does.”

  “Promise me that you’ll be on that flight if it’s offered. That you won’t try to rescue me.”

  “Why on earth would I do otherwise? I can’t imagine taking on an entire government, not to mention that homicidal maniac in charge of it,” she said, and she almost made a mistake, the
mistake of sighing her relief when he accepted her words at face value. He hadn’t noticed that she didn’t promise him anything and wouldn’t if she could help it. With the relief there was a slight pang. He didn’t know her so he had no way of knowing that there was no way in hell she would leave him to rot in a Russian prison if she had the means to get him out. Deringer was still in Russia, and between the two of them they could call in enough back up to get Leo out of any jam he managed to find himself in. She would need all the help she could get, because she had enough experience with megalomaniacal dictators to know Putilin was far too paranoid to ever let her go. But there was no point in telling Leo that.

  She rolled over on the yacht-sized bed. Leo immediately followed pulling her back into his embrace. She’d almost gotten used to his constant need to touch her, what was most troubling was that it was a need she reciprocated.

  “What do you want to do today, my little Vrieshka?”

  “I don’t care as long as it starts with blinis in bed.”

  “We’ve done that every day since we came together again,” he said.

  “Precisely. Why ruin such a lovely tradition?”

  “Far be it for me to do so.”

  “Let’s play the rest by ear,” she said not really wanting to think of anything beyond the moment.

  Vries sat beside Leo, propped up on a mountain of pillows. He had several newspapers on his side of the bed, along with three tablet computers. She had her own tablet and e-reader and they were passing articles of interest and food back and forth. She was surprised at how adept she’d gotten at reading Russian in just the short time she’d been in the country. Of course she’d been exposed through her work with Girasole and Leo still had to help her out a great deal, but she still felt rather proud of herself.

  “Here, have this,” he said softly pressing a particularly decadent blini, piled high with sour cream, caviar and smoked salmon against her lips. She couldn’t resist and her eyes rolled back at the succulent taste on her tongue. When she opened them again, he leaned forward to kiss her, adding his tangy flavor to the one she was already savoring.

  “Watching you eat is sexier than watching most women do a striptease.”

  She looked down at herself. That was probably a good thing because right now she was wearing the least sexy thing she’d ever worn; one of his bright blue jerseys from FC Zenit, the soccer team he owned. The man was insane about the club and she was actually surprised he’d let her touch one of the sacred jerseys. She loved wearing his clothes; they still held his scent and she felt surrounded by the force of his presence. At some point she’d been wearing panties, but they seemed to have disappeared. Her underwear had a way of doing that these days. Fortunately the shirt came to mid-thigh and preserved her questionable modesty

  He leaned toward her, another blini pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

  “No. No. Really I can’t,” she protested. So he ate the little pancake himself. She picked up her champagne flute and drained most of the rest of the glass. “Pietro is going to kill me as it is.”

  “How did you get started in this?”

  Vries frowned having no idea what he was talking about. “I told you how it happened. I was discovered by an agent in Atlanta and the next thing you know little Clarisse Johnson became Vries St. John, Supermodel of the World,” she said with a self-deprecating snort.

  “Not that part. How did you become Vries St. John, Deadly Weapon?”

  “Ooh, I like that! I’ll have to get it put on my business cards.”

  “You have business cards?”

  “Of course not,” she said with a dismissive wave trying to come up with a way to change the subject. She’d hoped he’d lose interest, but he was studying her with an expectant look on his face.

  “I don’t talk about this with anybody,” she said.

  “I’m not anybody. I’m the man who has spent as much time as possible loving you to the best of his ability…”

  “Don’t you mean fuc…”

  “Don’t you dare try to call what we’ve been doing fucking. You know better and so do I. Besides, in all likelihood I’ll be dead or in a gulag in a few days certainly your secrets are safe with me.”

  “For God’s sake Leo, don’t say that. We can leave here right now. I have ways to get you out…” she stopped at the shuttered look on his face. Come hell or high water he was going to Moscow for that goddamned trial. She sighed and leaned back against the overstuffed headboard of the bed. “What do you want to know?”

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “A little less than ten years. I didn’t start out doing as an operative. At first I was just Da—another agent’s cover story.” She rushed on, annoyed at having almost said Dare’s name. Fortunately he didn’t seem to notice her slip.

  “Why?”

  “Why what? Why did I get involved?” He nodded. “I was young and restless. By the time I was twenty-five I’d more or less done everything I’d set out to do in modeling. Much as I love fashion, it is pretty limiting. I have no interest in acting or starting my own line; it’s just not me. I have no talents in that area. Then I met someone. He needed a cover to get out of a situation in Paris. I helped. Nothing major, but it was so exciting. I really liked the adrenaline rush. Besides, after my parents died I think I felt like I hadn’t really made an impact in my life. I sold pretty clothes, but nobody would remember me when I was gone. I hadn’t done anything important.”

  He nodded. “I am familiar with that feeling.” There was a brief silence. “Have you killed a lot of people?”

  Vries felt faintly dizzy remembering the coup she’d unknowingly helped foment. “I have killed. But I have not knowingly killed a lot of people.” No way would she tell him about the fiasco in Laritrea. He’d never understand. Hell, she didn’t understand it and she’d been there and had even precipitated it.

  “That’s a strange answer.”

  “It’s the only one you’re going to get.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Another silence. Longer this time. Vries thought he’d lost interest, but then the questioning resumed.

  “Have you ever been hurt?” he asked.

  “Of course. So far I haven’t been shot, but I’ve had broken bones and a few knife wounds. One guy tried to choke me to death…”

  Leo held up both hands. “That’s okay; I don’t want to hear anymore of that.”

  They continued to read their papers. Leo poured them both another cup of tea from the set up the maid had left on a table beside the bed. Vries smiled as he passed her the traditional Russian podstakanniki. Obviously he had access to any manner of china he liked, but he preferred the tea glass. Studying the ornate beauty of the piece she could understand why. He added quite a bit of sugar to both glasses and hot water, as the tea in the pot was doubly concentrated. She inhaled the delicious tea aroma with closed eyes, the warmth of the cup comforting her and relieving a bit of the tension of the past few weeks.

  “How much longer do you plan to do this?” he said.

  “Drink tea and eat blinis?” she said deliberately misunderstanding him. “Until Pietro removes them from my cold dead hands.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She frowned thinking about Lelia’s offer. Coming in out of the cold had a certain appeal. She couldn’t reasonably expect to continue relatively unscathed for much longer. And certainly once her modeling career was done she wouldn’t have a decent cover for the travel needed to continue.

  “I don’t know. A lot of things are coming to an end for me these days. I can only reasonably expect to continue modeling for another year or so. Pasha, darling though she is, can’t keep me around for much longer.”

  “It’s my company; I can keep you around as long as I like.”

  “Yes, but I do recall you saying you wouldn’t risk your company for a woman.”

  “Do you need money?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course I need money. I live
in Italy. The taxes are ridiculous. But I don’t work as an operative for the pay, lucrative though it is. I got into it for the thrill. Now, to tell you the truth, I don’t know why I’m still doing it.”

  “I can take care of you.”

  “Imagine that, I finally meet a sugar daddy, except he’s liable to die at any moment. Mainly through his own stupidity.”

  “I’m serious, Vries. I don’t want you to continue doing this. I can provide you with whatever you need. The contract with Girasole is yours for as long as you want, or I can just give you a monthly stipend.”

  “I might take you up on that if I manage to keep you alive.”

  “If you do manage to keep me alive, we’ll need to have a talk.”

  Vries frowned. “The most dreaded words in the English language. Aren’t I supposed to be the one saying this?”

  “You are? What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you about anything.”

  “Then why did you say you were the one who should be saying we needed to have a talk?” he said, frowning his puzzlement.

  Vries raised her eyes heavenward. Sometimes the language and cultural barriers were maddening. Usually he had no trouble getting her sarcasm; unfortunately this wasn’t one of those times. “I was making a sarcastic commentary on the nature of male/female relationships. You know, I’m supposed to ask you where you think the relationship is going. And you’re supposed to say you’re not ready for a commitment right now. Then I’m supposed to be all heart-broken and pissed about your fear of commitment.”

  He gave her blank stare. “Fear of commitment? But I don’t fear commitment.”

  “Seriously, does none of this sound familiar to you?”

  “No. When I’m with a woman, I’m with her because that’s where I want to be. I don’t sleep with women I’m not interested in a commitment with.”