Chapter 26 Tony
Tony
Adrian’s name on my phone screen is the last thing I want to see right now.
Sasha and I are sprawled across her bed with surveillance reports and financial documents spread between us.
She’s wearing leggings and an oversized sweater, with her hair piled in a messy bun, and she looks more relaxed than I’ve seen her in weeks.
We’ve been reviewing the Luxembourg trap for the past hour, cross-referencing Ivan’s access logs with the timeline of Adrian’s questions.
“You should answer that,” she prompts without looking up from the file in her hands.
I grab it and swipe to answer, then tap the speaker button. Dmitri wants all Adrian communications monitored, and Sasha might as well hear this firsthand.
“What can I do for you, Adrian?”
“I was starting to think you’d forgotten who signs your paychecks.” His voice fills the room, dripping with that particular brand of condescension that makes me want to reach through the phone and throttle him. “We need to discuss timelines.”
“I’m listening.”
Sasha glances up from her documents. I give her a slight nod to confirm she should stay quiet.
“The Luxembourg expansion you mentioned,” Adrian continues. “I need more details. Transfer schedules. Names of the contacts Dmitri’s using to—”
“I’m working on it. These things take time.”
“Time is something we’re running short on. I’ve been patient, Tony. More patient than you deserve considering how long this operation has dragged on.”
Sasha sets down her file. She’s watching me now with an odd look I can’t quite read. Something playful lurks behind her eyes.
“The Kozlovs don’t trust easily,” I explain to Adrian. “If I push too hard, they’ll—”
Adrian cuts me off. “I’m paying you for results, not excuses. What I need is actionable intelligence that I can use to—”
Sasha stands up from the bed.
“Adrian, I understand your frustration, but—”
She reaches for the hem of her sweater and toys with the fabric for a moment. Then she pulls it over her head.
My brain short-circuits.
She’s not wearing a bra, so she’s just standing there in nothing but those leggings, watching me with a smirk that says she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“—rushing this will only compromise the entire operation,” I finish, though I have no idea if those are the words that actually come out.
“What’s the hold up, Tony? From everything I heard during your little romantic getaway, you and the little Kozlov princess seem quite cozy.”
Sasha hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her leggings and starts pushing them down. She takes her time with it, letting the fabric slide inch by inch while I struggle to remember how breathing works.
“That’s the job,” I manage. “Making her trust me.”
“Why do I get the impression you’re enjoying yourself a bit too much?” he questions just as the leggings hit the floor, and Sasha steps out of them wearing nothing but a scrap of black lace that barely qualifies as underwear.
I swallow hard and reply, “I’m a professional.”
“You’d better be,” Adrian barks. “Because if I find out you’ve developed feelings for—”
Sasha drops to her knees in front of me.
Jesus Christ.
“—her, I’ll make sure you both suffer in ways you can’t imagine. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly.” I force the word through a throat that’s gone completely dry.
Sasha reaches for my belt buckle.
I grab her wrist with my free hand. She looks up at me, and those green eyes are glittering with challenge. She’s testing me, seeing what I’ll choose.
The mission or her.
I loosen my grip on her wrist.
She takes that as permission and works my belt open while Adrian drones on about potential extraction and documentation requirements. I hear maybe one word in ten because the rest of my attention is fixed on Sasha’s fingers working my zipper down.
“—need copies of all financial records related to the Geneva operation by next week. Can you manage that, or do I need to send someone more competent?”
“I can manage it.”
Sasha frees me from my boxers, and her fingers wrap around my length. I’m already hard because I’ve been half-gone since she pulled that sweater off.
“Good. Now about Sasha. I want more detailed updates on her emotional state. Is she vulnerable? Does she—”
Sasha’s mouth closes around me.
I slam my thumb against the mute button.
“Fuck.” The word rips out of me as she takes me deeper. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock before she hollows her cheeks and sucks hard enough to make my vision go white at the edges. I fist my hand in her hair, unsure if I’m trying to stop her or pull her closer.
She looks up at me through her lashes with her lips stretched around my shaft, and the sight nearly undoes me right there.
Adrian’s voice continues through the speaker, oblivious. He’s saying something about psychological warfare and points of leverage.
I force myself to breathe and unmute the call.
“Sorry, bad connection. Could you repeat that?”
“I said I want weekly reports on her mental state. What makes her afraid. What would break her. The usual—”
Sasha takes me all the way to the back of her throat.
I choke back a groan and hit mute again.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I grit out.
She pulls back just enough to drag her tongue along the underside of my cock, tracing the vein from base to tip. Then she swirls around the head again before taking me deep once more. Her rhythm is slow and torturous because she’s not trying to make me finish. She’s trying to make me lose control.
It’s working.
Adrian keeps talking. I unmute long enough to grunt what I hope sounds like agreement, then mute again as Sasha adds her hand to the equation. She strokes what her mouth can’t reach, twisting on the upstroke while her tongue does something sinful against the sensitive spot just below the head.
“Tony? Are you even listening?”
Unmute. “Yes. Weekly reports. Got it.”
“You sound distracted. Is someone there with you?”
Sasha increases her pace, bobbing her head faster while her hand works in rhythm. The wet sounds of her mouth on me fill the room, and I pray to God the phone doesn’t pick them up.
“No. Just tired.” I mute the call and let my head fall back. “Sasha—”
She releases me with a wet pop and looks up. Saliva glistens on her swollen lips before she licks her lips and wraps her hand around me again, stroking slowly.
Adrian’s voice sounds through the speaker. “—expecting results, Tony. I won’t be put off much longer. If you can’t deliver what I’m paying for—”
I unmute. “Adrian. Something’s come up. I’ll call you back.”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me. We’re not finished discussing—”
I end the call and toss the phone across the room.
Sasha barely has time to smile before I haul her up off her knees and flip her onto the bed. The documents scatter everywhere.
“You think that was funny?” I pin her wrists above her head with one hand.
She’s breathless, and her pupils are blown wide. “I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“If you’d choose me. Even when it costs you.”
I crush my mouth against hers hard enough to bruise. She arches up against me and wraps her legs around my waist, grinding against the length of me trapped between us.
“Every time.” I pull back just enough to look at her. “I’d choose you every time.”
“Prove it.”
I release her wrists and yank off my shirt. She reaches for my pants and shoves them down my hips while I tear that scrap of lace off her body. The fabric rips, and she lets out the sweetest, most erotic squeal I’ve ever heard.
I reach between her thighs and find her soaked. My fingers slide through her folds, and she gasps against my mouth.
“So wet already.” I circle her clit with my thumb while pushing two fingers inside her. “All from sucking my cock?”
“Don’t be smug.” She bites my bottom lip hard enough to sting.
I curl my fingers and find that spot that makes her back arch off the bed. “You started this game, Solnyshko. Now you get to finish it.”
I work her with my hand until she’s writhing beneath me, her hips rocking against my palm. She’s close already. I can feel her walls starting to flutter around my fingers.
“Tony, please—”
“Please what?” I add a third finger and increase my pace. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. Inside me. Now.”
I withdraw my hand and position myself at her entrance. One thrust, and I’m buried to the hilt.
I pull almost all the way out and slam back in. She cries out, and the sound goes straight to my spine. I set a pace that’s punishing, driving into her with enough force to rock the headboard against the wall.
Sasha matches me thrust for thrust, rising to meet every stroke. Her nails rake down my back as she demands, “Harder!”
I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, changing the angle, and she screams. The new position lets me hit deeper, and I feel her starting to clench around me.
“That’s it.” I reach between us and find her clit. “Come for me.”
“Don’t stop—”
“Never.”
I circle her clit while driving into her, and she shatters.
Her whole body goes rigid beneath me, then convulses as she comes with my name on her lips.
The feeling of her pulsing around my cock destroys what’s left of my control.
I bury myself inside her and let go, emptying into her with a groan that comes from somewhere deep in my chest.
We lie there tangled together, both breathing hard. The surveillance reports are crumpled beneath us. My phone is somewhere across the room, probably already filling with angry messages from Adrian.
I don’t give a damn about any of it.
“I’d blow my cover a thousand times,” I mumble against her hair, “for moments like this.”
Sasha props herself up on one elbow and looks at me. Her hair is a disaster. Her lips are swollen. Hickeys are already blooming on her neck.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Don’t.” She puts a finger over my lips. “Don’t ruin it with words. Just let me have this.”
So I pull her against my chest and hold her while afternoon light spills across the bed. The mission can wait. Adrian can wait. Everything can wait.