Midnight Alpha

by Carole Mortimer

  Was she becoming feverish? If she was then it owed nothing to the graze on her cheek and everything to the man who had just moved past her to open one of the cupboards behind her, the heat of his body brushing against hers and causing her to shiver in reaction.

  Gregori turned to hand her two white tablets before going to the sink and getting her a glass of cold water. “I should have thought to give you some of these earlier.” He stood over her as she took the tablets before depositing the empty glass in the sink.

  Gaia turned to watch him—she couldn’t help herself—and thoroughly enjoyed the view. Gregori looked so much younger out of those formal suits he favored, and with his hair tousled over his brow.

  “How did you know I was down here?” she prompted curiously as he seemed to be keeping his physical distance, only that telltale bulge in his sweatpants to show he wasn’t as unaffected by this situation as he wished to appear.

  He leaned back against the sink unit, arms folded across that beautifully muscled chest. “Motion sensors.”

  Motion sensors?

  As in it was possible for him to know if someone was moving about in the house? Those sort of motion sensors?

  “They come on in the rest of the house once my bedroom door is closed at night, and I’m alerted if there’s an intruder,” it was only when Gregori answered her question that she realized she must have spoken it out loud.

  Bulletproof windows. Motion sensors inside the house. Guards outside protecting the grounds. Bodyguards wherever he went.

  How did Gregori live like this? It was so—so claustrophobic. So limiting. No wonder he was so controlled all the time: there was simply no room for spontaneity in his life.

  Apart from when he made love to her earlier. And then again when he followed her after she left Utopia.

  She was pretty sure that neither of those had been planned.

  Yes, and look how well that had turned out. Oh not the making love part, but following her. One random act of spontaneity and someone had shot at him. Or her. It didn’t really matter which, someone had taken advantage of Gregori being without his usual bodyguards to shoot at them. Which meant there must be someone watching his every move.

  “Is it always like this?” Gaia tried to infuse some lightness into her tone. “Or did you do something extra special recently to piss someone off?” She knew she failed miserably as her voice lowered with apprehension.

  She just couldn’t imagine living like this. Unable to go for a walk, or to the shops, without it becoming the big production of having to alert someone to follow and guard her. But maybe Gregori had always lived this way? Maybe to him this was normal?

  The fact that she was still aroused, and totally physically aware of this man in spite of all that, had to be totally screwed up. Didn’t it? If nothing else, it was ridiculous under the circumstances.

  But maybe their lovemaking earlier was the reason for that telling bulge in the front of his sweatpants? Gregori had given her orgasm after orgasm earlier, but hadn’t taken a single one himself. He had even gotten as far as putting a condom on that beautiful cock of his but hadn’t gotten any further before she came to her senses and they ended up having an argument before she walked—ran—out.

  Surely she wasn’t feeling guilty because Gregori hadn’t come earlier?

  Or maybe she was just projecting onto him what she now wanted? Him. Inside her, as he had threatened, fucking her.

  “Someone thinks I’ve done something to piss him off,” he now answered her guardedly.

  Orlov, Gaia guessed easily. Not that she could admit to knowing that, because she was supposed to have been unconscious when she listened in on his conversation with Nikolai. “And have you?” she prompted casually.

  “No,” he bit out tersely, running a hand through his already tousled hair—maybe the reason it was tousled in the first place? He didn’t look as if he could have been asleep when those motion sensors alerted him to the fact that someone was moving about in the house: his eyes were dark with fatigue, his cheeks slightly pale.

  “Why does he think you have?”

  Gregori shrugged, muscles flexing as he watched her intently. “His name is Ivan Orlov. His son Sergei is dead, and he needs someone to blame for that death.”

  Gaia drew her breath in sharply. Orlov’s son was dead and he believed Gregori was responsible? In the same way her sister was dead and she had no idea as yet who was responsible?

  Angela, unlike Gaia, had grown up the only child in a family where she was cherished and loved and provided for, whereas Gaia and her mother often had to go without because they simply didn’t have the money. Then had come the two hard years of her mother’s illness. All of those things had toughened Gaia in a way Angela could never have been.

  She knew Angela, and she was convinced now the man she was looking for was neither Gregori nor Nikolai Volkov; they simply weren’t the sort of men Angela would ever have fallen in love with.

  Which was something, she supposed. At least she had eliminated two men from the thirty or so working at or within Utopia. She couldn’t disregard the rest of Gregori’s bodyguards in the same way she had Nikolai, or the other men working in Utopia.

  Gregori frowned as he saw Gaia shiver. Because she was cold? Although he couldn’t see how she could be in the warmth of the kitchen. Something else then? Perhaps a guilty conscience?

  “Perhaps you should go back to bed now and try to get some more rest?” he suggested abruptly, knowing that if one of them didn’t leave the kitchen soon, he was in danger of embarrassing himself when the top of his swollen and aching cock popped out of the top of his sweats.

  He should have taken care of the problem himself in the shower earlier, as he had been doing for months. But he had never particularly cared for relieving himself that way, was always left with a feeling of dissatisfaction in the act. Even more so when he knew the cause of that arousal was actually in the same house at him.

  There were always willing women at Utopia, of course. Beautiful, sophisticated woman who would think nothing of spending an hour or two in Gregori’s bed. Gregori had lost his taste for those encounters, and those vacuous women some time ago.

  Only for that interest to have now narrowed down to a single woman.

  A woman who wasn’t in the least vacuous.

  A woman who wasn’t sophisticated.

  A woman with secrets to hide.

  Secrets he should know before taking this any further.

  Secrets Gregori found he really didn’t give a fuck about as he looked down at Gaia.

  He hadn’t been able to get the feel and taste of her out of his head, no matter how much he had tried by taking a shower and brushing his teeth. He could still taste her. Salty and sweet combined, a taste he could become addicted to.

  That he was already addicted to?

  An addiction that certainly wasn’t going to go away when she looked the way she did right now!

  What the hell had he been thinking earlier, giving her one of Katya’s old nightshirts to wear? His sister’s nightshirt was far too small on her, causing it to ride upwards, so that the red curls between Gaia’s thighs and the cheeks of her delicious ass were barely covered.

  Gregori knew she wasn’t wearing any panties either, because he had ripped them off her earlier, and the bag Nikolai had brought from her apartment was still sitting on the desk in his locked study.

  Locked because the photographs Nikolai had brought with him earlier were now in a drawer of Gregori’s desk.

  Photographs that raised more questions than they answered. Photographs that really should have succeeded in dampening Gregori’s desire for this woman.

  Except they didn’t. His cock wanted what it wanted, and what it wanted right now was Gaia, and to hell with whom or what she may or may not be involved with.

  Gregori’s knuckles turned white as his hands clasped the edge of the sink behind him in an effort to stop himself from crossing the room and taking her in his arms. A move
guaranteed to put an end to his already tenuous control.

  “Are you feeling any better?” he prompted gruffly.

  Her hand moved up instinctively to touch the gauze on her cheek. “I’m fine. Thank you,” she added belatedly, her gaze now avoiding meeting his.

  “Perhaps I should take another look, just to make sure the wound hasn’t become inflamed.” Gregori pushed away from the sink, unable to stop himself from moving towards her. “I put some strips on it earlier, but maybe it wasn’t enough?”

  Her eyes widened the closer he got. “I’m sure it’s okay—”

  “Sit,” he instructed abruptly as he pulled out a chair from beneath the kitchen table for her.

  Even though he knew this was a bad idea.

  A very bad idea.

  After frowning at Gregori for several long seconds, she finally sat.

  None of the men Gaia had been involved with had ever ordered her around in the arrogant way that Gregori did. Nor was she sure she would have responded if they had. It was different with Gregori. He was different.

  The air was once again filled with that sexual tension as he moved to stand behind her. A sexual tension that never seemed to be far away when the two of them were together, alone or otherwise.

  Except they were very much alone right now…

  “Leave it,” he instructed harshly now as Gaia attempted to pull the nightshirt down so that it would cover her bare thighs.

  Her hands instantly stilled, and her breathing became shallow as Gregori stepped from behind the chair and came to stand in front of her, her breathing ceasing altogether as he nudged her knees apart with his leg before moving to stand in between her parted thighs.

  Not only was she now completely open and vulnerable to him, her bronze curls exposed, but the difference in their heights also meant the thick bulge of his full erection was now almost on a level with her face, allowing her to see the slightly damp patch of material near the waistband of his sweatpants. Pre-cum? Was Gregori so aroused right now that his cock was actually leaking—

  “Yes.”

  Gaia’s gaze moved quickly up to his face as she wondered if she had once again spoken the words out loud without realizing it. But she found no answer from the coolness of his expression as he concentrated on removing the gauze dressing.

  Maybe she had imagined that single, guttural word—

  “Touch me.”

  She hadn’t imagined it. Or the slight flexing of Gregori’s thighs just in front of her.

  Could she do that? Just release the tie on the drawstring at the waistband of his sweatpants and look at—touch—that beautiful cock she had only caught a glimpse of earlier tonight?

  God, she wanted to touch him—her fingers ached to curl about that velvet hardness—and Gregori wanted her to touch him. She could smell his arousal now, a spicy musk that invaded her every breath and clouded her senses. There was only here and now and the two of them that mattered, touching Gregori, tasting him—

  “God, yes, do it!” he groaned harshly, telling Gaia that she had definitely spoken that longing out loud.

  Her hands moved almost of their own volition as she unfastened the tie, loosening the material until the sweatpants dropped down to the floor and Gregori stepped out of them before kicking them aside.

  Completely naked now, and bathed in the glow of that single light over the cooking stove, Gregori was as sleek and beautiful as a Greek statue.

  Gaia’s breath hitched as she looked her fill of that beautiful jutting cock. At least eight, possibly nine inches long, and so thick she wasn’t sure her fingers would go around it, heavy veins standing out beneath the silky smooth skin, the bulbous top flowering out above the foreskin, glistening as more of that pre-cum bubbled to the surface, tempting her to want to lean forward and lick and taste it.

  “So pretty…” she murmured appreciatively. “I’m sure you’ve heard it called many other things,” she added as she sensed Gregori looking down at her. “Huge, thick, impressive,” she shot him a teasing glance. “But not pretty.”

  “No,” he confirmed huskily.

  “Well it is.”

  “What do you have to compare—never mind,” he dismissed tightly.

  “I don’t think either of us wants to have that conversation right now—do we?” Gaia reached out to curl the warmth of her fingers about that jutting thickness—as she had suspected, her fingers didn’t go around it.

  “No.” Gregori gave a low groan. He had removed the gauze dressing, satisfied himself that the wound wasn’t red or infected, and had now given up any pretense of wanting anything other than the heat of Gaia’s mouth around him. Even more so as he saw the moistness of her tongue sliding across the plumpness of her lips. “Gaia, please suck me!” he pleaded achingly as he reached down to cup one of her breasts.

  “No touching.” She moved out of reach.

  His hand froze. “No?”

  “No. Put your hands on the back of the chair behind me and close your eyes.”

  Gregori wasn’t used to a woman having control—and Gaia didn’t have control either, she was taking it, not just with her words, but with the steadiness of her gaze.

  That unspoken domination caused his cock to give a ‘yes, please’ lurch.

  “You like that,” she purred as she obviously felt his cock grow thicker, the pre-cum now dribbling down her hand. “Hands on the back of the chair, Gregori, and close your eyes,” she repeated firmly. “Now.” She gave him a squeeze.

  “Oh fuck…” he muttered even as his hands moved to grasp the back of the chair.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Closing his eyes went against his every instinct, every thread of survival he possessed, would make him vulnerable in a way that he had never been before.

  “Please,” she added softly.

  He closed his lids slowly, reluctantly. “Oh God…” he exclaimed achingly, throat arching as his head fell back on his shoulders as her free hand moved to rest on his hip and the heat of her mouth finally closed over his cock. “Fuck!” he groaned again as she sucked him to the back of her throat.

  He was assailed by a sensory overload at the feel of the soft stroke of her tongue. She kept just the tip of him in her mouth as her tongue probed and stroked the leaking slit at the top, before once again sliding down and taking him to the back of her throat.

  Gregori began to groan and arch his hips as she repeated that erotic licking and sucking, over and over again, until a tingling began at the base of his spine and his balls drew up tightly, his release imminent as it built higher, and then higher still.

  He was balanced on the edge of that release when Gaia’s fingers moved to the base of his shaft, squeezing to increase his pleasure, at the same time as the tightness of that hold prevented his release and she began to suck harder and faster.

  His groans became harsh intakes of breath as Gaia held him poised on that knife-edge of pleasure, refusing to give him relief.

  “Gaia, please— Fucking hell!” he cried out as her other hand moved from his hip to cup beneath his balls, his thrusts instantly becoming wild and erratic, the pleasure so intense now he felt as if the top of his head was going to explode, even if his cock wasn’t being allowed to. “I need— Gaia, for fuck’s sake, will you let me come?” he growled desperately, eyes still closed but knowing his knuckles would be white as he tightly gripped the back of the chair.

  She answered him by humming low in her throat, sending shockwaves of pleasure from the base of his cock to the tip. The hand cupping his balls moved lower, fingers caressing his perineum until she found the sensitive knot and pressed, hard, at the same time as she released that tight grip on the base of his cock, hand pumping now as the cum shot the length of Gregori’s shaft. He cried out as he came in a hot and steady stream for what seemed like hours rather than minutes.

  And still she didn’t stop, that hand continuing to pump him as she gasped out her own release, the heat of her mouth holding his cock captive, lips clamp
ed tightly around him as she sucked and pumped until he came again, hot and aching, his throat raw as he cried out his pleasure. His thrusts became dry humps and then he finally stilled, chest heaving as he tried to breathe air into his starved lungs.

  “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

  Gaia had known the question would come. Had expected it. Eventually.

  To give Gregori credit, he had been more patient than she’d expected. After pulling his sweatpants back on he’d made them both a cup of coffee and then sat down opposite her at the kitchen table. All without a word having been spoken by either of them.

  Until now.

  Gaia cradled her hands about her coffee mug as she took her time answering him. Not because she was embarrassed by the question, but because just looking at Gregori now made her chest hurt in a way she couldn’t explain. Didn’t want to explain. Even to herself.

  Especially to herself.

  Gregori’s remoteness was becoming a challenge she couldn’t resist, especially when she knew beneath his coldness there was a man who possessed such passion it sent both of them up in flames. So much so that Gaia climaxed just from making love to Gregori.

  She couldn’t allow herself to fall for this man. She didn’t want to love anyone. The people she loved died. First her mother. Then Angela. Even the father she had never known. She daren’t allow herself to feel anything for Gregori, other than this desire neither of them seemed able to resist.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” he added at her continued silence. “That—what you just did to me—was the most intense sexual experience of my life”

  Some of the tension eased from Gaia’s shoulders at this admission of how much she had pleasured him. Not that she had ever doubted it. She had known by Gregori’s rough and guttural words that he was once again totally out of control.

  She gave a sigh. “Before you get the wrong idea about me completely, let me assure you that I’ve only ever had three lovers.”