Chapter Five
~ Mishka ~
I lay sprawled across the cold marble of Nicolai's kitchen island, his massive body half-covering mine like the world's sexiest, most lethal security blanket.
My breath was still coming in ragged pants, my skin slick with sweat and other things I wasn't going to think too hard about.
Around us, the kitchen looked like it had been hit by a very localized, very electronic-focused hurricane. I'd done that. With my orgasm. If that wasn't a superpower worth being kidnapped for, I didn't know what was.
"Are you always this...?" Nicolai gestured vaguely at the chaos surrounding us, his voice a low rumble against my chest.
"Explosive?" I offered, unable to contain the smug smile spreading across my face. "Only with the right motivation."
His answering growl sent vibrations through my entire body, making my toes curl despite the fact that I should have been completely spent. The bear was pleased.
Very pleased.
I'd just opened my mouth to make another quip about his animal magnetism—because puns are how I cope with life-altering sexual encounters—when the unmistakable sound of a door being violently thrown open shattered our post-coital bubble.
"Boss!" A deep voice bellowed from the entryway. "Security breach! All systems—"
The voice cut off abruptly as its owner, followed by three men with guns drawn, burst into the kitchen.
In the space of a heartbeat, Nicolai's body shifted completely over mine, shielding every inch of my naked form from view. A sound emerged from his chest that was decidedly not human—a rumbling growl that raised the hair on the back of my neck and made the armed men freeze mid-step.
"Perfect timing as always, Yuri," Nicolai said, his voice calm despite the animalistic warning still vibrating beneath it.
A hysterical giggle bubbled up from my chest before I could stop it. I pressed my face against Nicolai's shoulder, trying to muffle the sound.
Of all the ways to meet the in-laws.
"Sir, we detected multiple system failures throughout the building," the one called Yuri explained, his voice carefully professional despite the tableau before him. "The security protocols indicated a possible attack."
I peeked around Nicolai's shoulder, catching sight of Yuri—a broad-shouldered man with a face that seemed permanently set to "disapproving"—deliberately averting his eyes from the kitchen island. The other security team members were suddenly fascinated by various points on the ceiling.
"As you can see," Nicolai replied dryly, "the situation is under control."
Understatement of the century.
I glanced around the kitchen, seeing it through the security team's eyes. Glass from the shattered overhead lights glittered across the floor like diamond dust.
The refrigerator was making a noise that sounded suspiciously like a death rattle.
The microwave display flashed random symbols that might have been summoning a demon for all I knew.
The oven timer counted backward from 666—okay, that was definitely demonic.
Even the fancy coffee maker was dribbling hot water in sporadic, accusatory spurts.
It looked like a poltergeist had a temper tantrum during a cooking show.
"Sir," Yuri pressed, his gaze now fixed firmly on a spot just over Nicolai's left shoulder.
"The entire building's electrical system went haywire.
The emergency generators kicked in for the security doors, but the surveillance cameras, alarms—everything electronic started malfunctioning simultaneously. "
I felt a flush creep up my neck that had nothing to do with the exertion of the past hour.
Oops. My bad.
"We thought you were under attack," Yuri continued, his composure admirably intact given the circumstances.
"The only thing under attack," Nicolai replied smoothly, "was my kitchen."
Another giggle threatened to escape and I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. Nicolai's massive body shifted slightly, adjusting to keep me completely covered while allowing himself a more dignified conversational position.
"Your team's response time is commendable," he said, voice dropping into what I was beginning to recognize as his 'boss tone.' "But unnecessary. As you can see, there is no threat."
Just a guy with electronic abilities having the orgasm of his life.
Nothing to see here.
Yuri's eyes narrowed slightly, darting from the devastation of the kitchen to his boss's naked back. I watched the exact moment when understanding dawned on his face, followed swiftly by what looked like a migraine setting in.
"I see," he said stiffly. "The boy's... abilities?"
Nicolai's answering nod was regal despite his compromising position.
The security team shifted uncomfortably, holstering their weapons while trying very hard to look at anything except their naked boss and his equally naked.
.. what was I exactly? Hookup? Protected asset?
Future electronic disaster waiting to happen?
"So this is what brings down the mighty Aleksandrovich security system," I whispered against Nicolai's ear, unable to resist. "Really good orgasms."
Nicolai turned his head toward me, his expression a masterpiece of contradictions—stern warning and amused pride battling for dominance. "Not helping, malysh," he murmured, the Russian endearment slipping out like a caress.
I felt a shiver run down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold marble beneath me.
"The team will withdraw," Yuri announced, already backing toward the door and gesturing for the others to follow. "We'll... implement countermeasures for the building's electronic systems."
"Do that," Nicolai agreed. "And Yuri? No interruptions for the remainder of the evening unless the building is literally on fire."
"Yes, sir," Yuri replied, his voice the verbal equivalent of someone who desperately wanted to bleach their brain.
As they retreated, I caught snippets of urgent whispers—"never seen him so..." and "the boy must be..." and one particularly memorable "...electronics fried by good sex!"
The door closed with a decisive click, and Nicolai finally rolled off me, allowing me to slide off the kitchen island on legs that felt embarrassingly wobbly.
"Well," I said, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile as my voice cracked. "That was mortifying."
Nicolai's laugh was a low, rumbling sound that did inappropriate things to my insides despite the interruption we'd just experienced. "I've endured worse."
I glanced around, suddenly acutely aware of my complete nakedness in the middle of his demolished kitchen.
My clothes were scattered like breadcrumbs marking the path of our passion—shirt draped over a chair, pants crumpled near the sink, underwear.
.. I squinted, finally spotting them hanging from the handle of the refrigerator door.
How they got there, I had no idea, and I wasn't about to ask.
I made a frantic grab for my underwear, hopping awkwardly as I pulled them on. "So that was Yuri? Your second-in-command?"
"Yes," Nicolai replied, making no move to cover himself as he watched me with undisguised amusement. The man clearly had no modesty whatsoever. Then again, if I looked like that, I'd probably wander around naked all the time too.
Focus, Mishka.
"He seems..." I searched for a diplomatic word as I snatched my pants from the floor. "Efficient."
"He's loyal," Nicolai said simply, as if that explained everything. Maybe in his world, it did.
I struggled into my pants, trying to maintain some dignity while keenly aware of Nicolai's eyes tracking my every movement. "Well, I'm just going to..." I gestured vaguely toward what I hoped was the guest bedroom. "Go die of embarrassment in private."
Nicolai smiled, the expression transforming his face from intimidating to devastatingly handsome. "Don't die. I have plans for you later."
The heat that raced through me at his words was ridiculous. I'd just had the most intense sexual experience of my life, and here I was, ready for round two at the mere suggestion.
"Right. Good talk," I muttered, gathering the rest of my clothes and backing toward the hallway. "I'll just... yeah."
I beat a hasty retreat, clutching my shirt to my chest like some kind of Victorian maiden protecting her virtue.
Too late for that.
As I fled, I caught sight of my reflection in a decorative mirror—flushed face, hair standing in every direction, eyes too bright, lips swollen from Nicolai's kisses. I looked thoroughly debauched and, oddly, more alive than I had in months.
Of course, I also looked like someone who'd just been caught having kitchen island sex by their lover's entire security team, so there was that.
I had barely made it through the guest room door when Nicolai's voice reached me, low and commanding with that hint of Russian accent that somehow got thicker when he was annoyed… or aroused… or both.
"Don't go far, malysh." The endearment rolled off his tongue like honey, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine despite my embarrassment. Whatever malysh meant, the possessive tone made the message crystal clear. I wasn't going anywhere.
I closed the door with a soft click, leaning against it as my heartbeat gradually slowed from "cardiac event imminent" to merely "mildly panicked."
The guest room was like everything else in Nicolai's domain—opulent, masculine, and intimidating in its perfection.
A king-sized bed dominated the space, draped with charcoal-colored linens that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent.
The walls were a deep navy, adorned with what looked like original artwork—not prints—of snow-covered landscapes and forest scenes.
Bear art. Of course.
A plush rug cushioned my bare feet as I padded further into the room, still clutching my shirt against my chest like it might shield me from the absurdity of my situation.