I may not know Matvei very well, but I know there’s no sense in arguing with him. Instead, I wrap my arms around myself and rub, trying to warm up extremities that are suddenly frigid. He settles on the couch beside me and wraps his arms around me.
Part of me wants to pull away because I just saw him gun a man down. But the other half of me melts into his arms, intothe warmth and safety his embrace offers, into the feel of him against me.
Everything feels better when I’m with him. I feel like I can finally breathe in a quiet and safe place. My mouth finds his, wanting the comfort and oblivion only he can give me.
Matvei leads me to his bed, laying me down and kissing his way down my body, dragging my ruined skirt and underwear off.
I gasp as his kisses trail over my inner thigh, seeking the wet warmth at the apex. I arch as his tongue enters my folds, flitting, flicking, lapping. One hand grasps the quilt until I can feel my nails digging into my palm, while the other reaches down to curl within his hair.
I lose myself in the pleasure Matvei is giving me, letting the waves wash over and erase the fear. The sounds of my moans and cries and Matvei’s rumbles of enjoyment block the gunfire still echoing in my head.
The waves crest higher and higher as Matvei’s tongue finds all the right places. I cry out, twist, claw at the blanket, at his skin, as his thumb strokes my clit. When I come, it’s as if I’m releasing everything. I fall apart, shaking, crying out, grateful for the way my thoughts disappear momentarily so I can feel relief.
But the memories return soon enough. I reach for Matvei and he doesn’t hesitate. He bends me over the bed, my knees on the padded bench at the foot, and sinks in to the hilt.
We both cry out. I push back into him, taking in everything I feel at each and every stroke. Matvei wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me to him as close as he can. The other he uses to peel a bra cup from one of my breasts, squeezing and massaging until stars dance in front of my eyes.
I know I’m done for when his hand moves down between my legs and starts playing with me again, pinching, stroking, and circling until I can barely breathe from the onslaught to my senses.
I feel the wave coming again, my entire body clenching tightly. For a moment, I feel as if I’m floating, caught between soaring and falling, between the old and the new, between then and now.
A scream rips from my throat as my orgasm crests and slams into me. For a moment, I pretend everything is okay. That someone didn’t shoot at me today. That I wouldn’t have lost my life had Matvei and Evgeny not been there. I can pretend Matvei didn’t kill someone right in front of my eyes.
That I’m with a man who exhilarates me as much as he terrifies me.
11
SONYA
Damn it, why does he have to look so good?
Matvei has looked amazing every time I’ve seen him. Right now, he looks like a beefed-up James Bond in his tailored tuxedo, all smooth lines and sophistication, oozing sexiness and power as he moves through the crowd waiting to enter the reception hall after cocktail hour.
I can’t believe I’m the woman on his arm.
“People are staring at us,” I whisper as he hands me a glass of champagne. He’s moved on to whiskey in a crystal tumbler.
“They’re staring at you,” he whispers back.
I flush. “No,you’restaring at me.”
“You don’t give your beauty enough credit.” Matvei slips his free arm around my waist and pulls me close. I have to crane my neck to look up into his face.
He’s doing an admirable job pretending to be crazy about me. Fire burns in his blue eyes, and anytime someone looks our way,he pulls me closer. I’m waiting for him to growl in order to warn others away from his property.
I’m not sure I’m doing as great a job. I’m anxious, even though I look as incredible as I’ve ever seen myself. Matvei sent over a team of makeup artists and a hair stylist, as well as some amazing jewelry. I didn’t ask him how much it cost because I didn’t want to worry about someone ripping it off my neck, wrist, and ears all night. I’m worried enough as it is.
Everyone here is so beautiful and thin, floating around in a world that isn’t mine. We watch the sun go down over the lake from the top of the building, Chicago’s glittering and wealthy people moving about as the city lights turn on like a carpet of galaxies.
I’m trying to keep to the letter of our agreement. I put my hand on his chest, my heart fluttering at the solidness beneath my palm, at the thought of what’s beneath the tux jacket, vest, and starched white shirt.
Truth is, I don’t have to pretend that hard. I’m pulled to this man, caught in his orbit and moving ever closer, unable to escape entirely. My heart speeds up at the simple thought of him and the memories of what he does to me in private that makes my mouth water and my knees weak.
“You’re just trying to butter me up.”
A slight hint of a smile curls at one corner of his mouth. “I don’t think at this point I have to butter you up.” His mouth and his words brush against my ear, making me shiver. “I’m sure you’re already slick enough as it is.”
My mouth goes dry at his words and I drain my glass of champagne. His arm is still around my waist as he grins down at me, mischief glinting in his eyes.