Yes, she had meant what she said earlier, but this—this was beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. And she wanted it. Wanted Mikhail.
She was almost thirty years old, but she knew she had never felt like this in her life before. Never simply wanted.
And what was she really saving herself for? More heartache from self-centered bastards like Roger, who made hollow declarations of love and then fucked their secretary during their lunch-break?
At least with Mikhail she knew there was no future, that there would be no hollow promises or declarations of affection, as surely as he would be the one to end their relationship when he was tired of her.
She could live with that.
If she could have this—him—now, then she would deal with the fallout later.
Lindsay twisted her wrists from within his grasp to place her hands flat against that muscled chest, her heart swelling as she felt his immediate response to her touch in the slight trembling of his flesh. It was empowering, arousing, to know and feel how much Mikhail wanted her.
She raised her head and allowed her gaze to meet the pale searching intensity of his. “I want you,” she repeated firmly.
Mikhail had given Lindsay every opportunity to change her mind, to back off. He didn’t have enough self-control left to make the offer a second time.
Instead, he gave a low groan as he claimed her parted lips with his own, still kissing her as he swung her up into his arms and carried her through to her bedroom. He lay her gently on top of the bed and followed her down, one of his legs across her thighs holding her captive, his chest flush with hers.
God, she tasted so good, pure nectar to his starving senses. His hands cradled the sides of her face as his tongue brushed along the softness of her parted lips before slipping inside her heat, Mikhail growling low in his throat as she sucked him in deeper still, the length of her tongue sliding along his, awakening a sensitivity there he hadn’t known he possessed.
Mine.
The part of Mikhail that was Mischa had known the effect this woman would have on him. It was inside him now, lying on its back purring contentedly, like a fucking house cat being stroked by its mistress.
Because Lindsay owned him at this moment. Every hard, tattooed inch of him.
And Mikhail didn’t give a fuck. He wanted. He desired. He was going to take.
He broke the kiss slowly, reluctantly, but only because he knew there was so much more to feed on. So much more of Lindsay to feast on.
Her face was flushed, lips swollen as she watched him from beneath the lowered sweep of her lashes as he lifted up slightly and began to unfasten her blouse.
Damn it his fingers were shaking. Because he was aware, so very aware, of how delicate and lovely this woman was, inside and out, and he was desperate not to do or say anything to make her want to draw back and close herself off to him again.
Mikhail knew he couldn’t bear that, not now, not when they were so close. He wanted Lindsay naked before him, her emotions as bared to him as her body.
Then he was going to eat her up, slowly, thoroughly, until he knew every inch of her.
Every fucking inch.
He didn’t intend on allowing her to keep a single part of herself hidden from him. It was all his. She was all his.
Removing her blouse revealed full breasts cupped in a delicate peach-colored bra. Mikhail groaned softly to himself as he unfastened and dispensed with the bra, realizing he was jealous of a fucking piece of satin and lace.
“Mikhail…?”
He looked up to give her a smile. “Only my hands should ever hold these,” he murmured gruffly as he now cupped those perfectly rounded breasts, the soft pads of his thumbs stroking across the beautiful deep peach-colored and totally responsive nipples.
Lindsay gasped as her nipples hardened and swelled, that gasp turning to a deep keening of pleasure, her back arching up off the bed and her fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of Mikhail’s hair, as he lowered his head to suckle one engorged berry into the heat and moisture of his mouth.
Pleasure coursed through her body as Mikhail suckled and bit, fingers and thumb taking over that pleasure as he turned his attention to her other nipple, suckling harder, deeper, and sending flames of need licking between her restlessly moving thighs.
Her hands moved to the hard ridges of his shoulders and chest as the pleasure became so intense she dug her nails into his flesh, softly sighing her satisfaction at his groans of encouragement.
She explored further, hands moving downwards, towards where she had unfastened his trousers earlier, allowing her to curl her fingers about the hardness of his fully engorged cock.
“Jesus…!” The pleasure of Mikhail’s mouth released her breast as he groaned achingly, eyes glittering as he looked down at her now plump and reddened nipples. “These have to come off,” he muttered as he gently removed her hand to sit up and helped her undress.
He nudged her legs apart before kneeling between them so he could gaze greedily at her damp curls and the swollen and moist folds of her labia.
“I am going to eat you up!” Mikhail promised gruffly as his fingers moved to part those golden curls and reveal her swollen clitoris peeping out from beneath its protective hood. “So fucking pretty,” he murmured approvingly as he moved to lay between her thighs and draw the heady and intoxicating smell of her arousal deep into his lungs.
Lindsay groaned at the first touch of Mikhail’s tongue against her swollen nubbin, gasping softly as he licked and sucked remorselessly, fingers caressing, teasing the increasingly wet entrance to her channel.
“Please,” she begged as that torment became unbearable. “Oh God, Mikhail, please…” Her hips undulated restlessly, desperately seeking the penetration, wanting, needing—“Yessss!” she cried out as Mikhail moved lower and she felt the hot, thrusting penetration of his tongue as his fingers now stroked and pressed against her clitoris.
Her head moved restlessly from side to side on the pillow, hips arching up into the thrusts of that spearing tongue, feeling herself poised on the edge of release, clit pulsing, the muscles in her channel contracting and releasing as those thrusts came faster and faster, deeper and deeper, until the pleasure exploded deep inside her and she hurtled over the edge into wave after wave of intense and never ending pleasure.
Chapter Nine
MIKHAIL DIDN’T STOP, was remorseless as he took her from one orgasm crashing into the next, over and over again, tongue thrusting inside her. Then it was his fingers, longer and deeper than his tongue, his thumb stroking her clitoris at the same time as his other hand pinched and squeezed her nipples. Until every nerve ending was thrumming and totally attuned to Mikhail and his relentless lovemaking.
“Roll over onto your stomach and then get up onto your knees,” he finally instructed gruffly as he rose up in front of her. “Trust me, Lindsay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured as her eyes opened wide.
Lindsay rolled over, her body completely wrung out and satiated, but also eager for more as she leaned on her elbows, head down and bottom in the air.
She heard the rustle of clothes behind her and turned to see Mikhail’s heated gaze was fixed on her parted thighs. He was now completely naked, his long, thick cock jutting out fiercely from a thatch of dark curls as he rolled a condom down that length.
He truly was the most beautiful man Lindsay had ever seen—glistening golden skin, that magnificent cock in perfect proportion to the rest of his powerfully muscled body.
She continued to watch him as he moved to kneel on the bed behind her, nudging her legs further apart as he knelt between them. He took his cock in his hand to place the head against her moist channel and began to enter her inch by pleasurable inch.
Lindsay felt herself stretching, accommodating the girth, Mikhail giving a loud groan when all nine inches of that cock was finally buried inside the snug depths of her channel. So deep, he possessed her completely.
Placing his hands
on either side of her on the bed he bent over her back, skin against skin. He began to thrust into her slowly, then pulled out and thrust back in just as slowly, heightening every nerve ending inside Lindsay as she began to gasp and groan at each slow and deliberate thrust and withdrawal.
Mikhail certainly wasn’t hurting her. In fact, what he was doing was sweet, gut-wrenching torture.
Lindsay’s nipples prickled and ached as her channel tried to grasp, to hold on to that intense pleasure, before it was removed with the same agonizing slowness.
Over and over again, until Lindsay felt as if she might go insane as he kept her poised on the edge of another orgasm. “Please, Mikhail—”
“Mischa,” Mikhail encouraged hoarsely.
“Mischa…?”
“It means bear in Russian.”
Like the tattoo on Mikhail’s back. “Please, Mischa,” she groaned achingly. “Please!”
He rose up behind her and took her with him, her back now plastered against the hardness of his chest as he cupped her breasts, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, as he squeezed and pulled on her nipples.
He gasped, his cock like hardened steel inside her as the hot release of his cum swelled the condom inside her, accompanied by the painful bite of his teeth into her shoulder, and sent her flying with him over the edge into the most intense orgasm of her life.
* * *
LINDSAY WOKE THE following morning to the smell of sex, the feel of Mikhail’s arm about her waist, and his body curled behind her spoon-fashion, and the knowledge that every single part of her ached.
Every single part of her.
Mikhail had disposed of the condom and the two of them had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, but Mikhail woke her twice more in the night, arousing, exploring, and encouraging her to do the same with him, before taking her to new heights as he took her in every way possible. And still it hadn’t been enough, Mikhail seeming to want to climb inside her, possess her, until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.
Her cheeks burned now at the thought of the wildness of their lovemaking.
Totally off-the-charts lovemaking that had surely ruined her for any other man.
Man?
Beneath that veneer of urbanity Mikhail was Mischa, and he possessed the same feral fierceness as the black bear tattooed on his back.
“Did I hurt you?” Mikhail had known the moment Lindsay woke, felt her tension against his chest and beneath the arm he had draped about her waist.
Because he hadn’t wanted to let her go, not even for a minute during the long night, had wanted Lindsay as close to him as she possibly could be. So close that he had taken, and then taken again, and kept on taking until he knew every part of her more intimately than he knew himself.
Only to wake to the feel of her tension and realize he had probably terrified her with the fierce need he felt to possess and claim her.
Way to go Lysenko, he mocked himself, the first woman you’ve ever wanted to accept and know you for exactly who and what you really are, and you’ve succeeded in frightening the fucking life out of her!
And just to make matters worse, his cock had woken up too now and decided it liked being nestled in the crack of her ass!
He shifted back slightly in an effort to appear less threatening. “Lindsay?” he prompted gruffly at her continued silence.
She turned in his arms. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” she assured softly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, and her hair a wild tangle about her shoulders. “Did I hurt you?”
Mikhail felt some of his own tension ease as he saw the laughter gleaming in the depths of those sparkling green eyes. “I think I may have a few scratches on my ass that might need attention!”
She chuckled throatily. “Shower first. I feel distinctly sticky in places I would rather not!”
A playful shower followed by more lovemaking was another first for Mikhail. Although his efforts at persuading Lindsay into taking the day off work to be with him proved as useless as they were frustrating; she insisted she had to go in to the office today after the disaster of yesterday.
Knowing he was partially, if not wholly responsible for that didn’t sit well with Mikhail, and he decided to do something about it. Oh, he wouldn’t go back into negotiations with Barbour—that business deal really was finished as far as he was concerned. But he could think of another way to make recompense to Lindsay, and it was also a way that would ensure he saw a lot more of her. He was in no way finished with her yet.
“I’ll collect you after work and we can have dinner together this evening?” Mikhail’s arms were about her waist as he stood behind her, nuzzling her perfumed throat once they were both dressed and ready to leave. Lindsay was once again wearing one of those business suits and blouses that made her look very officious, and totally unlike the woman who had gone wild in his arms the night before. Mikhail was unfortunately forced to wear the same clothes he had arrived in the previous evening.
What did women call it when they left a lover’s apartment in the morning wearing clothes from the night before? ‘The walk of shame’? Mikhail wore his clothes from yesterday with a feeling of pride, for having spent the night with Lindsay.
“Mm, dinner tonight sounds wonderful.” And it did sound good to Lindsay. She’d had no idea whether or not Mikhail would want to see her again after spending the whole night with her. “I might need cheering up if Peter Haskell decides to fire me!” She grimaced.
Mikhail released her before straightening. “You really think I would allow that to happen?”
Lindsay looked at him searchingly, but she couldn’t read anything from his expression except a return of that the arrogance that was such an inborn part of him.
As was Mischa.
She could see that wild and feral part in him now, lurking in the depths of his ice-blue eyes. Mischa. She blushed to remember how she had deliberately called him by that name time and time again during the night, and again in the shower this morning. Because she knew how much hearing that name aroused and excited him.
She shrugged. “He had every right to be angry with me. I messed up.”
A frown appeared between his eyes. “Did you mess up by being with me last night, too?”
“Absolutely not,” she instantly assured as she gave his cheek a soothing caress. “I…enjoyed last night. Very much.” Her cheeks burned with the memory of how much she had enjoyed being with Mikhail. And how much she was looking forward to being with him again tonight. “I’m no longer David Barbour’s lawyer, so I can do what I like with you now,” she added teasingly.
Mikhail’s brow cleared as he smiled. “I like the sound of that!”
Lindsay’s blush deepened at the things they had already done together the previous night. “I believe it’s time the two of us left for work, Mr. Lysenko!”
He laughed huskily as he escorted her to the door, that laughter dying in his throat when he opened the door with a flourish and saw the black rose petals and green stems crushed and scattered about in the hallway outside.
Chapter Ten
MIKHAIL’S FIRST THOUGHT was someone must have been here last night and done this while Lindsay and I were in bed together. His second thought, after hearing Lindsay gasp and turning to see her face was now deathly white, was I’ll kill the bastard!
“Oh God…” Lindsay choked as she reached out blindly and grasped hold of the doorframe to stare down at the crushed black petals, their perfume overwhelmingly nauseating in the confines of the hallway.
Someone had been here during the night and—someone had broken into her apartment building again and—
Who was doing this?
Lindsay had no doubts now that even if, as Mikhail had initially assumed, the black roses had started out as a gift from an admirer, the destroyed flowers in the hallway showed that admirer was becoming dangerous.
The roses looked as if they had been literally ripped apart in a rage, the petals crushed, stems bent and broken.
All while she and Mikhail were inside her apartment making love.
He quickly closed the door before reaching out to take her icy hands into his much warmer ones. “I’ll find whoever did this, Lindsay, and they’ll regret it when I do,” he promised grimly. “In the meantime, you need to pack a bag.”
“I—What…?” Lindsay was still totally dazed, numbed by the destruction she had just seen and all that it implied.
“Pack a bag,” Mikhail repeated softly. “You’re staying at my apartment with me until I get to the bottom of this.”
She looked up at him uncomprehendingly.
“Come on, Lindsay.” He kept a tight hold of her hands as he pulled her back into the bedroom. “Find a bag.” He began opening the drawers in her dressing table and placing underwear, jeans and tops on the bed, before taking a trouser suit and a couple of blouses from the wardrobe to add to the pile.
Lindsay moved like an automaton as she took an overnight bag out of her wardrobe, packing the clothes inside while Mikhail disappeared off to her bathroom, presumably to pack her toiletries.
Who could have done this, she asked herself again?
Why had they?
Had the person who was giving her the roses seen Mikhail’s distinctive car parked outside and become outraged at the thought of his spending the night at Lindsay’s apartment?
If that was the case then it ruled out the culprit being Roger’s secretary—the other woman was more likely to cheer if Lindsay had so obviously moved on to another man!
Which left Roger himself.
Was he capable of doing this?
He’d certainly looked angry enough the previous evening when he realized she not only knew Mikhail, but that the other man was accompanying her up to her apartment. And then stayed all night. Something she had refused him.
Okay, so Roger was definitely a possibility—
“Let’s go.” Mikhail pushed her toiletries into the bag with the rest of her clothes, before picking it up and grabbing Lindsay’s arm to move briskly back towards the door. “Don’t look at them,” he instructed grimly as they moved out into the hallway. “I’ll call your landlord later and have him clean it up.”
Pursued by the Devil Page 7