by Miranda Kavi
He moved his head down to her neck. “I have missed you, Sophia,” he murmured in between kisses. He kissed a trail down to her cleavage then back up her neck to her mouth.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
He stopped and clasped her face with both of his hands. “Have you?”
“Yes,” she said, meeting his eyes.
He dropped his hands from her face and kissed her again, cradling the back of her head and neck. He pulled away again, leaving their faces only inches apart. He looked in her eyes and gently squeezed her neck. “I love you,” he said gruffly.
Her eyes welled up with tears. It was what she wanted more than anything. What she’d been yearning for. This man, holding her this way, saying those words to her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He smiled, full on with dimples and straight white teeth. “Say it again,” he said.
“I love you, Dmitri,” she said louder.
He groaned, leaning his head against hers. “You are mine,” he whispered. “Tell me.”
“I’m yours. All yours,” she said.
He kissed her again, hard. He grabbed her knees and yanked them up, forcing her legs to go around his waist. She was pinned against the cool, hard wall by six feet of Russian hotness.
Her core lit up and her heart drummed a rapid pace. Her body responded to everything: his voice, his touch, his smell. She arched into him, almost unconsciously closing the space between them.
“Make love to me,” she pleaded in between frantic kisses.
He grunted, gently carrying her to the bed, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He gently threw her down on the soft bed then stood back and watched her. She knew the look in his eyes because she was sure it was in hers, too: that empty, hollow longing that only he could fill.
She couldn’t wait any longer.
She sat up, yanked off his tie, and threw it behind her. She tugged on his jacket, and he shrugged his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and on to the floor. She started working the buttons on his shirt, one by one. Each piece of new flesh exposed met her lips. She kissed every scar, flicking her tongue against his nipples. He sucked in his breath.
He reached for her, kissing her, crushing her to him.
He leaned back and began unbuttoning her blouse, one tiny pearl button at a time. “Fuck this,” he said. He ripped her shirt open, sending a shower of buttons clattering on the bed and floor.
“That was expensive,” she murmured.
He licked his lips and stared at her. She wiggled her hips and chest under his stare.
“Do not tease me,” he growled.
“It’s not teasing if it’s all yours,” she said.
“Mine,” he agreed. He rested his hand on her stomach, touching her small scar, watching her face without moving. His eyes met hers, and she saw the madness pulsing in them. All for her.
He grabbed the front of her bra and yanked it down. The elastic on the straps popped. It was ruined, but she didn’t care.
He suctioned on to her nipple, sucking and flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue. His hands traveled down to her waist, deftly opening her pants and sliding his hand inside her underwear.
He rubbed circles on her clit, making her moan and buck under him as much as she could with his mouth clamped on her nipple.
He released her swollen nipple. “Say it again,” he said.
“I love you,” she gasped.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his fingers massaging her breasts, his thumbs playing with her nipples, his firmness pushing into her sensitive area.
“I want you. Only you. All of you.”
He took his hands off her body long enough to remove her pants and panties. She unclipped her bra and tossed it off the side.
She was naked and vulnerable, lying on the bed for him to see all of her. There was no hiding.
He stepped back and dropped his pants and trousers, freeing his large, hard cock. His body was still a work of art, a beautiful sculpture of male virility; it was better than she remembered.
He stood over her, watching her, eyes running up and down her body. “You are so beautiful, Sophia. So beautiful.” With other men in the past, she would have been uncomfortable under the scrutiny, worrying about any lurking cellulite or freckles or whether she’d shaved that morning.
But not with Dmitri. His desire was empowering. She wanted him to see her. All of her.
She held out her arms to him, arching her back, spreading her legs. “Then touch me.”
He breathed heavily, his chest heaving as he stared at her.
He lowered himself on top of her, running the head of his penis around her cleft, teasing her swollen nub.
Electricity crackled between them, so thick she could almost touch it. She felt alive, truly alive for the first time since she’d arrived in Russia.
“Dmitri, please,” she said.
He entered her gently, moving with smooth strong strokes. She sighed when he was inside her, filling her up in a way that only he could. Her being shuddered with the ecstasy of being with him, pleasure already spreading through body.
His hands skimmed across her skin, running delicate trails down her arms then squeezing her breasts. He kissed her, his mouth never leaving hers.
She felt the whole weight of his body against hers, and she loved it. She wanted to melt into him, to feel everything. To see everything.
They were together. She wrapped her legs around him, opening herself up to him even more. Every inch of skin begged to be against his.
He moaned and pushed deeper.
They were pressed together, moving together, sighing together, beautiful friction building between them.
They were one. She moved toward her climax, softly chanting his name as she came closer and closer to the edge. He held her tight, kissed her frantically, bit her shoulder, pumping harder and harder as she moved her hips against him.
She gripped the back of his arms and tossed her head back, overwhelmed with the explosion simmering between them.
Her entire pelvis convulsed under the weight of his strong body pushing against her sex and the fullness inside her. The explosion of pleasure shot down her limbs. Her ears rang, and her pulse pounded in her head. Holy fucking shit. She grabbed his head, tugging gently on his hair. “Dmitri!” she screamed.
“Sophia!” He pumped into her even harder, skillfully stroking just the right spot, prolonging her orgasm until she thought she was going to faint.
He pushed in deep and shuddered, still holding her while he came undone. She felt all of him, his love, the length of him, the fullness, the heat of him spurting inside her, heard him uttering her name.
Wave after wave of pleasure washed through her body.
He stayed on top and inside of her. They both panted.
After a few minutes, her ears stopped ringing and she found her way back to earth.
He’d propped himself up on his elbows so his full weight wasn’t on her, but they remained glued together, chest to toe.
He kissed her again, like he could never get enough, which was fine with her because she could never get enough.
“You,” he whispered, “are mine. I will tell you with my mouth and show you with my body.”
“And I you.”
He rolled off so he was next to her, but rested his head on her chest, using her breasts as pillows.
He listened to her heart, and when he found her beat, he tapped out the rhythm on her arm. “I cannot lose you again,” he whispered.
She lifted her head so she could see him. “You won’t.”
“Good.” Dmitri caressed her nipple with the palm of his hands.
She playfully swatted his shoulder. “Same to you. No running around with fake girlfriends. Especially ones that look like that.”
He pushed himself off her chest, rolled on his side, and faced her. He tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger on her cheeks. “You silly, si
lly woman. Do you not see? Do you think any woman could ever hold any interest to me after you?” He pushed a stray hair out of her face. “You are my definition of beauty,” he said with such honesty she felt her cheeks warm.
“Are you blushing?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
He kissed her shoulder, his length growing against her leg. “You must stop, or else I will be forced to make you really blush.”
“And how would you do that?” she said, running her fingers down his hard, long shaft.
DMITRI
She stared at Dmitri with smoldering blue eyes, her full lips slightly parted, her blond hair spread behind her like a golden fan. A flush grew on her cheeks as she watched him watching her.
It made him crazy. She made him crazy. She made him hard.
Her lush curves were displayed for him, a perfect picture of beautiful flesh against the dark comforter. Large, soft breasts with swollen pink nipples. Narrow smooth waist that curved out to full hips. Shapely legs and arms. Her cleft was soft, and her scent drew him in.
Everything about her was sensuous, and she knew it.
He was going to make her come over and over until the only memories of sex in her mind came from him. He wanted to possess every inch of her mind and own every inch of her body. He wanted to be the only man that made her eyes close, her head drop back, and her body quake with ecstasy. He wanted to be the only man that got to watch her ride him, her large breasts bouncing, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her hips moving in rhythm with this.
Sophia was all woman. All curves. And all his.
There was so much he wanted to share with her. He craved her skin against his. He pulled her up. She came willingly, crouching on the bed until they were face to face.
He kissed her again, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Her lips were soft, her mouth hot and sweet.
She whimpered and he grew harder.
He needed to be inside her again. He released her mouth and gently spun her around. His erection pushed into the soft skin of her back. She shifted so her back was pressed against his chest.
She looped her arms around his neck. He tucked his head into her sweet neck and trailed kisses down the smooth flesh. He cupped her breasts and then entered her from behind.
“Jesus,” she whispered.
She moaned, tightening her hold on his neck. He squeezed her breasts and flicked his thumb over her nipples. She moaned at his touch, so he did it again.
She leaned forward, propping herself up on all fours.
He pulled her back down his shaft hard, ramming his full length into her.
She gasped.
He withdrew and then flipped her over. “Too far away,” he said. “I need to see you. I need to feel you.”
She straddled him, lowering her tight core onto his length. She clung to him, digging her nails into his chest. “Oh, Dmitri,” she whimpered in his ear. Her voice was melodic. When they were apart, he’d awaken from dreams, thrashing with desire, hearing echoes of her voice in his head.
And now he heard it again.
She moved faster, gripping him tighter. Her breasts bounced against him, her nipples grazing his chest as she moved.
She was perfection.
Her cries grew louder, spurring on his lust. He grabbed her tight ass and slammed her up and down on his length. She clenched around his shaft, screaming his name.
He joined her in ecstasy.
Chapter 12
SOPHIA
Sophia stepped out of the shower. Her thighs were shaky, her privates barely able to manage the water pressure of the shower.
She smiled to herself. Yep, Dmitri was back. They’d spent most of the night making love, getting very little sleep. In the moments in between, they’d laid naked together, sometimes in silence. Dmitri played with her hair, stroked her skin.
She’d held him, felt him against her, and drowned in his presence.
She dried her hair before pulling on a long, green maxi dress from her suitcase.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, Dmitri’s broad back was to her. His shoulders were high, his stance wide. He was staring at something in his hand.
“Hi,” she said.
He whirled around. “Who did you send to find me?” he barked.
She stiffened. “A man. He said his name was Tariq.”
Dmitri crumpled the paper in his hand. “Tariq the Oil Sheik? Fuck me.”
“Um...what?” Sophia said.
“That is his nickname,” Dmitri said. His mouth was set in a firm line. “He made a lot of money from the oil fields and pipelines.”
“Did I fuck up?” she asked. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was angry that something could disrupt their reunion. It was supposed to be all happy and flowers and sunshine.
But that was stupid because Dmitri and the world she just entered was dark and deadly.
She had faint memories of the limo ride with Tariq. Crawling on his lap like some dog, taking off her dress, kissing him. Oh, fuck.
Dmitri came to her, standing in front of her. He caressed her face. “Yes, but I will take care of it. Do not concern yourself with Tariq.”
She put her hand on top of his. “Tell me.”
He patted her hand and then turned away. “Do not worry.”
She tiptoed around him until she was in front of him again. “Don’t do that. I’m with you now. I need to know.”
He grabbed her waist and pulled her to him, shoving his body against hers. “I like it when you boss me around.” He kissed her, only pulling away when she was breathless. “I will tell you, sit.”
She sat on the edge of the bed they had shared all night.
“He sent me a demand,” Dmitri said.
“What?” she said. “How much?”
“Three million. And he wants a cut in my business.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sophia sighed. Of course he would do this. Of course he would exploit the information he had. “What leverage does he have?”
Dmitri laughed darkly. “You are wise to ask. He has very little. He thinks you are going to be a problem for my business.”
Sophia’s heart sank. “But that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Oh, no.” Dmitri sat down to put on his shoes. “I will make sure it is not.” She watched the powerful, muscular man slide on his shoes and realized how intimate it felt. No one saw Dmitri crouched over in his chair to lace his shoes. No one saw him in these moments but her.
“What are we doing to do?” she said.
He tied up his expensive, shiny leather black shoes. “What we must.”
“I should tell you something,” she blurted out. “I don’t doubt he will use it against you if I don’t.”
He sat up in his chair, arrow straight. He didn’t speak. Just waited.
“I...um...hung out with him.”
Dmitri sucked in his breath, the noise echoing through the room. “Did you fuck him?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“No,” Sophia said.
He exhaled and looked off to the side. “Then?”
“The night he showed me pictures of you with Naomi. The night I thought you were gone from me forever, we went out.” She bunched her hem in her hands. “I got really drunk and high. I crawled on his lap in the limo, and we kissed.”
Dmitri stopped moving. He rested his hands on his thighs, still, unmoving, his eyes avoiding hers.
“Dmitri?” she said.
He didn’t answer, just kept his green eyes away from her.
“I don’t like him. I didn’t want him. I was angry and stupid and hurt and I’m sorry,” she said.
He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “We were apart. I can say nothing.” He moved his neck side to side, joints cracking. “But I will make that fucker pay for preying on your vulnerability and using it against me.”
Scary Dmitri was back. She saw the flash of him that was capable of horrible things.
Her heart thumped double time. Better get
used to it. This is what she signed up for. The lover of a criminal.
She cleared her throat. “What do we do?”
“I am taking the meeting with him.” Dmitri lips curled up. “We shall see what he says.”
He picked up the hotel phone and dialed a few numbers then spoke gruffly into the phone. Gram knocked on the door a few seconds later, dressed and his wet hair neatly combed. Naomi was nowhere to be seen.
DMITRI
Gram came into Dmitri’s room, eyes darting around. He did not look surprised to see Sophia there. “Perhaps you could keep Naomi company in her room?” he said. “She just ordered breakfast.”
Sophia rolled her eyes then looked at Dmitri. “I’m clearly being dismissed so you can talk alone. Is that what you want?”
Dmitri nodded once. He saw her eyes flash with something, maybe hurt, at his dismissal. She slid off the bed, shoved her feet into some sandals, and planted a cool kiss on his forehead.
Her sweet scent mixed with the smell of her shampoo hit him. He caught a flash of cleavage down her dress. He pushed his hands down on his lap to force himself not to touch her.
It was hard.
She left with one more glance over her shoulder. When she was gone, the room felt empty.
“You are fucked,” Gram said. He’d been watching him. He had a hint of smile on his face. “You have become soft, brother. The woman. She gets to you.”
“I could say the same to you,” Dmitri replied. He felt the strain and stress boil in his stomach. He hadn’t had breakfast yet. “You and I, we have made a mess.”
Gram sank down on the foot of the bed. “I would not call it that.”
Dmitri crossed his arms. “I would. You are with the woman that I am supposed to be protecting. I am with Sophia now. Permanently.”
“Fuck, I know.” Gram kicked his legs while he sat, giving him a comical, childlike appearance. “What is the plan? Hitoshi is going to be pissed. You are going to have an uprising.”
Dmitri leaned back, hand rubbing his chin. Gram was correct in his assessment. Hitoshi would be pissed. Gram could protect Naomi—he had his own clout—but that was not the service Hitoshi had paid them to complete. Dmitri did not care to piss the man off, not when Hitoshi could grant him access to the East Asian buyers he had limited capacity to reach now.