He wanted to protect her, to make her feel good. And more than that, he wanted to scoop her into his arms and press his mouth against hers, show her the depths to which he could make her feel good. As many times as she would allow.
But there was no time for that. Not anymore.
Chapter Nine
Claudia tugged at the wispy blanket again, struggling to get it to cover both her belly and her toes at the same time. The thing was just an inch too small—no amount of tucking or pleading would make it effective at its job—and finally she gave up, staring at the stained ceiling in defeat.
Boris was elsewhere in the house—he’d headed upstairs soon after their pitiful porridge dinner, claiming a tiny bedroll awaited him, and the house fell silent. Occasional coughs from Filitov elsewhere upstairs were the only other sounds in the house. Sound traveled so well in the cottage she wondered if she might hear the beating hearts of the mice skittering behind the walls.
‘One night here and then we’ll walk back to the village,’ Boris had promised. From there, it would be smooth sailing onward to Dubrovnik. Maybe even just a few more days before she hopped on a plane bound for D.C. Because at this point, all she wanted was to go home. Lay in her own damn bed. Have a blanket that covered both her belly and her toes.
A strange creak upstairs made her tense. The cottage wasn’t big enough for ghouls or goblins, but being out in this rustic No Man’s Land sure set her on edge. She was dying for a glance at a cell phone. Even the sound of a radio would help.
Another creak. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. At least with Boris in the house, he’d kill any goblins before they got to her.
Since he knew how to kill a man, after all.
She shivered. They hadn’t talked about what happened in her room onboard the cruise. Wasn’t sure if they even needed to—he’d saved her. Plain and simple. Was that wrong, then, to have taken a man’s life in the mix? She wrestled with this thought in the back of her mind, wafting thoughts that hung unresolved like a dense cloud cover.
What bothered her the most about it was it didn’t bother her enough. How could she witness the death of a man, a corpse in front of her, and not be more freaked out?
Another creak upstairs, followed by Filitov’s cough, and then “Shit.” Soft steps padded down the staircase and then a dim light flicked on. Filitov stood in a ragged t-shirt and shorts, squinting at her from the base of the staircase.
“Get up, Claudia.” His voice was hard, a command that had her sitting up before she even made the choice to. “Boris’s gone.”
Her heart leapt into her throat. “What? What do you mean, he’s gone?”
“He escaped out the window upstairs. You can catch up to him. But you have to leave now.”
She didn’t need to put anything on as she hadn’t disrobed in the slightest when she’d gone to bed. Confusion pulsed through her as she headed for the front door. “Thanks, Filitov.”
“Good luck,” he said, pulling the door open. She hurried through it, stumbling over the uneven stones of the pathway as she acclimated to the night air. A full moon shone overhead, illuminating enough of the countryside. She scanned the horizon, pushing herself to a run, wondering what direction he might have gone in, why he’d even escape in the first place.
Boris, what the fuck are you doing? A dark figure, further down the path that had brought them to the cottage. It had to be Boris. She pushed herself to a sprint. If it wasn’t Boris she was fucked, but if she believed hard enough then it had to be him.
Anger swelled alongside the confusion. How could you leave me there like that? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You save me then you abandon me? She tried to keep her steps light but after a certain distance her breath grew heavier. You asshole. You dumb brute. You jerk!
The figure turned. Cropped hair silhouetted by the weak moonlight. The trademark square jaw. Boris. She pushed harder and caught up to him, shoving him as hard as she could.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She stood, heaving, feeling crazier than she ever had in her entire life.
Boris stood rigid on the pathway, avoiding her gaze. “How did you find out I left?”
“Filitov told me. He saw you escape.” She shoved him again, wishing he would topple, but she’d never be able to take down someone of his size. “You asshole!”
Boris shook his head a little, turning away. He started walking. “You don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you’re fucking right I don’t understand.” She kept pace beside him, and when he didn’t add more, she shoved him again. “Fucking talk to me.”
Boris veered off the path toward a thick chestnut tree, a trunk so wide she might not be able to wrap her arms around it. He braced an arm against the trunk, studying the ground. The weak moonlight highlighted the conflict in his eyes.
“Boris.” She shoved his shoulder again and he tensed, dragging his gaze to meet hers. There were warning signs in his eyes.
“I’m on a bad path,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want you mixed up in it.”
“That’s what you had to talk about with Filitov in private then?” She stepped closer, bringing her face inches from his. “Why didn’t you just drop me off before we walked a zillion miles yesterday? Huh? Any reason you came this far only to fucking drop me off?”
Boris ran a hand through his hair but didn’t say anything.
“Yeah, I thought so.” Claudia balled her fists instead of shoving him again. Seemed like he might be at the point where he’d shove back. “Thank God Filitov told me. Some guest you are, leaving a stranger behind on your surprise visit.”
Boris tutted and shook his head. “I can’t believe he noticed.”
“Maybe your stealth skills need some work. Just like your compassion skills, or your logic skills.” She drew fast breaths, anger storming through her. “Remember you purchased me, buddy. I’m yours whether you like it or not.” What are you saying? She was too angry—she was speaking nonsense now.
His eyes flashed in the darkness and he leaned closer. “Is that what you really want?”
“What?” She took a step back, flattening herself against the gritty trunk. She swallowed hard as he neared, propping a hand at the side of her head. Anger dissolved into something else. The heat of him prompted a surge of moisture in her panties.
“For me to treat you like my property?” His breath came out hot against her ear and she shivered.
“I want you to treat me like you wouldn’t fucking abandon me,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. She wanted him. More than what was reasonable. More than what even made sense. Kiss me, Boris. “Not after all we’ve been through.”
Boris sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. His heat rolled through her in waves and she arched herself closer to him, desperate to feel him against her. To feel his weight after that shocking disappearance. To feel the reassurance of Boris at her side.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice smaller than she’d ever heard it. “I can’t explain it now. But I thought it was the right thing to do.”
His rough hand cupped her cheek and her eyes fluttered shut. “When can you explain it to me?”
“I don’t know.”
She huffed. “Boris. Please. I want to understand—I want to know you.”
He pulled back a little, searing her with his gaze. She wanted to know him, but maybe he’d never allow it. She could only imagine the type of life he led. The type that included daring sex cruise rescues and late-night ocean escapes. And murder. Couldn’t forget the murder, or that it figured in near the bottom of the list.
No doubt he had plenty of secrets. But something about that was more alluring than she could properly express. She wanted to crack his shell, drink from his waters. Get as close as she possibly could. Less than a week together and she knew the man she wanted.
The man who’d tried to leave her behind in the Croatian countryside.
“I want to know you too, Claudia.” His ha
nds rounded the curve of her hips and a weak sigh escaped her. His touch felt too good. It wasn’t fair.
Boris pressed her against the tree and dipped his head to meet hers. Their lips met tentatively, the fragrant waft of grasses mixing with the heady scent of Boris. A kiss that would burn itself into her memory.
They broke apart after the first, delicate kiss, looking at each other for a sign. And then Boris dipped down, smashing his mouth against hers in a hungry kiss, desperation and longing unfurling. She whimpered as he wrapped his arms around her, hoisting her against the tree, the rough bark scratching through the flimsy fabric of her shirt. She wrapped her arms around his neck and locked her ankles behind him, anchoring him to her, digging in with all her might.
“Oh, Claudia,” he murmured between kisses. Just the sound of her name on his lips was like an electric shock. She arched herself closer, pressing her tongue into his mouth, clutching onto the hard ridge of his shoulder.
Boris grabbed the curve of her ass then slid a hand upward, under the hem of her shirt, following the curve of her waist until it met the line of her bra. He fiddled with the clasp and undid it quickly—nimble fingers, a good sign—and inched his hand underneath the loosened cup. His warm hand smoothed over her breast, tweaking a nipple in the process, and she shivered against him, rocking her hips, desperate for more.
“I want to see you,” she murmured, trailing kisses along his jawline. The heat between their bodies was so intense she could barely think straight. She needed to get this man naked. Immediately.
Boris groaned in response and carried her away from the tree to an open area of grass. He sank to his knees and laid her onto the ground gently. He tore his shirt off, moonlight illuminating the ridges of his creamy abs. A pendant necklace hung between his pecs, something long and simple. She smoothed her hands over the planes of his chest, the tight points of his nipples, tracing the fascinating landscape of his body.
“All for you, babe,” he murmured, undoing his belt. He leaned back on his heels and then stood, shimmying out of his jeans, toeing off his shoes until he was clad only in simple black boxer briefs. Even the dim night couldn’t hide the impressive ridge in his underwear.
She inhaled sharply and sat up, pulling her shirt over her head, tossing the bra alongside it. She shimmied out of the black leggings and tossed them aside too. She hadn’t worn underwear in a few days and relished the way his gaze scorched over her. He loomed over top of her, the palm of his hand resting on the bulge in his briefs, and he let a low whistle.
“Damn, Claudia.” He pushed his briefs down, his cock bobbing once it sprang free. Her eyes soldered between his legs, mouth parted as she took it in. He was exactly as hung as a man like him should be. Exactly the way her gorgeous-protector-turned-flight-risk-turned-nighttime-lover had to be on the side of a rolling Croatian hill.
“Boris,” she breathed, draping an arm over her eyes.
He sank to his knees and his heat seared through her as he nudged himself between her legs. Boris dragged his lips over her jawline, down the side of her neck, the cold metal of his necklace sending shivers through her as it dragged against her low belly.
His kisses wandered over her breasts, kissing then suckling each nipple before heading south, over the swell of her belly, stopping at her mons. He looked up to her for confirmation and she jerked her head into a nod, pussy pulsing with anticipation. He nuzzled between her legs and his soft lips connected with the tight peak of her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She gasped and arched her back, a hand knotting into his hair, voice disappearing as he suckled, kissed and licked at her clit.
She tossed her head back, gaze landing on the black abyss of the night sky, at the dazzling array of the stars in the sky. She laughed—this is too beautiful, too magical, too fucking crazy to be real—and tensed as he introduced a finger into her.
Boris let a gravelly groan, pressing his lips against the swell of her hip. “Claudia. You feel too good.”
His kisses dragged back up her body, skipping over her belly, each breast, up the side of her neck until he eased himself between her legs. Their gazes met and the heaviness in his gaze, the swirling intensity there, told her it was time.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded, hooking her arms around his neck.
He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers, wiggling his hips to find the right spot. The heat of his cock found the folds of her pussy, inching into place, causing her to spread her legs even further.
He caught her lips in a rough kiss as he pressed himself inside her. She gasped—he was so big, it almost hurt—but she relaxed against him, allowing him to sink deeper. He let a ragged moan as he sunk all the way, buried to the hilt, and for a moment neither moved. He felt too good buried inside her, his heat overcoming her, the desire consuming her.
She flexed against him and hooked her ankles behind his back. He moved against her, slowly at first, but soon a rhythm emerged, somewhere between tender and ravenous. She moved against him as he pumped into her, the friction building at a frightening pace. Need swirled inside her and soon she needed it faster, harder. As much as he could give her.
“Fuck me,” she pleaded, bucking against him as he pumped. “Fuck me like you own me.”
The muscles of his back rippled under the moonlight and he scooped her into his arms, sat up to rest on his haunches, putting her on top of him. His eyes shone with desire as he took her in, his strong arms wrapped around her waist.
“Ride me, baby.” Sweat glistened at his temples and he caught a nipple in his mouth as she arched against him. Acclimating to the new angle took a moment since he found even more depth this way. She started a slow roll on top him, moaning as her clit knocked against the base of his cock, working up to a frenzied bucking as need overcome her.
“Oh, Boris!” She tossed her head back, looking up into the abyss of the night sky, the beauty mingling with the heat of his body and the feel of his stiff cock inside her. It was too much. She moaned low, rolling in wide circles, feeling the prickles of electricity form a bright spark in her core. She wouldn’t last much longer.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped, pressing her breasts against his face. He caught a nipple between his teeth and then groaned. “I’m close.”
“Me too,” he said, voice jagged. “You feel too damn good, baby.” He squeezed big handfuls of the flesh at her hips and then reached around to grab at her ass. That did it—the waves of pleasure unfurled, slow and tight at first but then longer and harder as the climax built and spilled over. Her breath caught in her throat and she rode him harder, pushing herself over the edge, her breast jiggling in his face as she came.
“Oh… Oh god. Oh god YES!” she gasped, and gripped onto the hard ridge of his shoulders as the pleasure spasmed through her, pussy convulsing around his cock as she came. Her breath came out stilted and strange, a whimper turning into a moan and then a shriek. He held her tight, biceps bulging as he squeezed her closer, a gruff cry escaping him as his cum filled her.
She drew ragged breaths as she came down, the peaks of pleasure receding into a dull thrum of contentment. Resting her head on his shoulder, she dragged her fingertips over his bicep.
“Wow,” he said at last, arms still encircling her like she might drift away if he let go.
She laughed a little. “Yeah. I second that.”
He shifted beneath her but his cock didn’t slip out. The feel of him there, even after their climax had come and gone, was an extra dash of intimacy. She nuzzled against him, lulled into a deeper state of calm from the scent of him, the mixture of earth and sweat and something indescribably Boris.
Boris shifted again and guided her back toward the ground, biceps bulging as he supported himself on either side of her before rolling off to the side. Before she could suggest that they cuddle he pulled her into his arms. A smile overtook her face.
They spooned under the moonlight, warm breeze caressing her bare skin, until she drifted off into a peaceful sleep beneath the star
s.
Chapter Ten
Boris bolted awake at dawn, when the last remnants of purple-blue hues were fading from the sky. He lay flat on his back, arm hooked around Claudia’s neck, who curled up to him like a purring kitten. The leaves of the chestnut tree gently moved in the slight breeze.
He sniffed, remembering what had awoken him. That smell. He shifted to sit up a bit, blinking against the dawning light. The countryside sprawled before him; perched atop this little hill, he had a better vantage point of the surrounding lands. The next village was a small cluster on the horizon; the city they would walk back to today, even tinier.
Boris turned to look behind them, back where they came. The sight stole his breath.
A thick column of black smoke billowed from the dip between hills. He tensed, hesitant to confirm what, exactly, had burned to the ground. A knot formed in his belly.
Going Once, Taken Twice: A Dark Romance Page 7