Chapter 9 #3
“Good,” I whisper back before running my hands through his hair and pulling him in for a kiss.
Our bodies find a rhythm as the rain falls down on us.
My nipples scrape along his wet chest, rain and blood from my scratches mix together, smearing across his pecs, and when he cups my ass, working me harder against him, I feel the beginnings of another orgasm start to build.
He fists my hair with one hand, kissing me harder as I explode from the inside out.
My back arches, and I clench around him even tighter, pushing him over the edge right along with me so we come together.
He lets out a feral-sounding growl, pulsing inside me and filling me with everything he has until we’re both completely spent.
I’m shaking and gasping for air, clinging to him like the lifeline he’s become.
He sits back on his heels and wraps his arms around me, making me feel safer than I’ve ever been.
With my face buried in his neck, I finally let the tears fall because the moment is just too goddamn much to contain.
I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. I’ve been completely laid bare, and there’s no going back.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup the back of my head while I sob against his neck like an absolute nut.
I try to stop it, but the entire experience we just had is too much for my body to contain.
The sexual tension between us, the chase through the woods, the rain and cold, the fact that I’m clinging to a killer and not even caring that he is one, and the amazing fucking sex that we just had—all of it is just too damn much.
He gently lifts me up, breaking the contact between our bodies as I hiss out a breath.
He was true to his word, there’s already a sore ache between my legs.
Standing up, he keeps an arm under my ass, holding me securely as he gathers his jeans and knife, not bothering with my clothes since they’re in shreds.
We’re both naked and filthy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
He carries me down a path that leads to the side of the house, tossing his jeans on the veranda before going inside.
The dogs lift their heads, and Volodya lets out a pained sigh when he sees they’re still sprawled on the couch.
“You’re going to get your house messy,” I whisper, knowing it’s got to be grating on his nerves to track muddy footprints all over the pristine floors.
“I have a very good maid.”
“That’s so not fucking funny,” I say, making him laugh.
He carries me to his bathroom and kisses the side of my face before setting his knife on the counter and then carefully putting me into his large, clawfoot tub.
His movements are so gentle, so at odds with the killer I’ve seen firsthand that he is.
Turning the water on, he grabs some bubble bath and squeezes it in as I arch a brow at him.
“You take bubble baths?”
His lip quirks up, but he refuses to meet my eyes. “On occasion. Don’t fucking judge.”
I bite back a laugh and scoot up so he can slip in behind me.
Leaning against his chest, I let out a sigh as my body relaxes in the hot water.
His arms wrap around me, and when he lazily strokes my skin with his thumb, I sink even deeper against him.
There are so many things I want to say to him, so many things I want to ask, but I’m afraid to do anything that might ruin this perfect moment.
If he’s going to tell me that this can never happen again, then I don’t want to hear it right now.
I’ve already made an ass of myself by crying after he gave me the greatest sexual experience of my life. I’m too exhausted to add to that.
When he grabs the handheld nozzle and starts to rinse my hair, I don’t say anything.
I just tilt my head back, letting out an appreciative moan when he reaches for the shampoo.
He washes my hair, taking his time and massaging my scalp until I’m so relaxed I know I could fall asleep in seconds.
After rinsing my hair, he drains the tub and fills it back up again with fresh water before working on my body, giving it the same slow treatment.
I hadn’t realized how sore the run through the woods had made me, but when he starts to rub my calves and feet, it becomes very obvious that I’m going to be feeling our nighttime fun for days.
Once he’s satisfied, I grab the nozzle and turn to face him. He lifts a brow at me. “My turn,” I say, but when he hesitates, I motion for him to turn around. “Please let me take care of you.”
His caramel eyes study me for several seconds before he scoots forward so I can get behind him.
The man is massive and if he had a regular-sized tub, this would never work.
Resting my hand against his forehead so I can tilt him back a bit and protect his eyes, I wet his hair and then take my time washing it.
His dark hair is long enough to fist but still short enough that this should only take a couple of minutes, but I draw it out because I’m not ready to stop touching him.
He groans when I massage his scalp, feeling his whole body start to relax.
After I rinse his hair, I give his head a kiss and grab the sponge.
Washing Volodya’s body feels like something I should have to pay good money to be able to do.
My breath hitches when I run my soapy hand over his chest, and when I meet his eyes, he gives me a wink.
“So not fair,” I mutter.
“What’s not fair?”
“No one should be allowed to be this damn gorgeous. It’s unfair to the rest of us mere mortals.”
He cups my face, running his thumb over my cheek. “I think you’re beautiful, kiska, so fucking beautiful.”
I can’t look away, and I know I’m in way over my head, because I never want to be anywhere other than right here with him.
I’ve fallen completely in love with a man who’s made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with love and relationships.
Before he can read every damn thought in my head, I scoot back around and start to massage his shoulders.
“Goddamn,” he groans, letting out a soft laugh.
I smile and press my thumbs in harder, working out all the tension in his neck and shoulders before drifting lower to get the rest of his back. When all the knots are worked out, and he’s looking more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, I pull him back against me and hook my legs over his.
“Thank you.” He grabs my hand and kisses the palm of it.
I kiss his shoulder and hug him tighter, memorizing every single detail of this moment because it’s perfect, and I know nothing else will ever compare to it.
When the water grows cold, he grabs a couple of towels and dries me off, surprising me yet again with how gentle he’s being.
In all honesty, I’d been prepared for him to just leave me in the woods after he’d fucked me.
I was not expecting the royal treatment of being carried back and bathed.
He runs a finger over the scratch marks the bark left on my chest, leaning closer to run his tongue up the one that’s started to bleed again, and I see a glimmer of something in his eyes that I don’t understand.
“What are you thinking?” I ask and then inwardly curse my own curiosity for not being able to leave well enough alone.
His finger traces the red line of the deepest scratch. “I was thinking that I should never be allowed to touch something as precious as you.”
I start to argue, but he cuts me off with his words.
“I’m not a good man, kiska, but you already know that.
What you don’t know is how much I enjoyed chasing you down tonight, how much I enjoyed seeing the fear in your eyes, and how much I really fucking enjoy seeing the marks on your body that I caused and tasting your blood on my tongue, knowing that I’m the reason you bled in the first place. ”
His hands slide down to grip my hips and pull me tighter against him. There’s a towel tied around his waist, but it does nothing to stop me from noticing that he’s getting hard again.
“I enjoyed it too,” I remind him. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I’m no good for you,” he whispers, cupping my face. “If you had any idea how many people I’ve killed with that knife I just used to cut your clothes off, you’d run from me, but this time it would be in horror and not because you wanted me to chase you.”
I think about what he’s said, and then I tell him the truth. “I think you’re forgetting how we first met. I knew what you were the second I first saw you, and if I run from you, it’s only because I want you to chase me.”
Gripping his wrists, I give him an apologetic smile when I yawn. “I’m sorry. I know this is important and that we have a lot to talk about, but the truth is that you really wore me out tonight, and I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Do you regret it?”
His words are barely more than a whisper, and the earnest way he’s looking at me is so unlike him it catches me off guard.
“Never,” I whisper. Even if it ends with my heart in shreds, I will never regret a single moment with him.
He smiles, a genuine, full smile, the first he’s ever given me, and he’s so beautiful that all I can do is gawk like a love-struck teenager.
“Wow,” I murmur, reaching up to run my fingers over his stubbled cheek. “I’d almost convinced myself that you weren’t capable of a full smile.”
He gives a small shrug and picks me up. “I reserve them for special occasions.”
I wrap my arms around him and kiss his neck. When he pulls back the covers and sets me down on his bed, I try to tamp down my huge smile. I’d been worried it was going to be some embarrassing moment where he pats my ass and sends me down to my room, and I’m relieved to not have to endure that.
Tossing both our towels aside, he gets in next to me and pulls the covers up. There’s an awkward moment where I’m not sure what to do, but then he gives a soft laugh and wraps an arm around me, pulling me up against him. I rest my head on his shoulder and hike my leg over his.
“What’s with the giant bear on your chest? Is that to represent your inner beast?”
He laughs and runs a hand through my hair. “Medvedev comes from the Russian word for bear, so this is the symbol for our Bratva. Vasily and Valeri have the same one.”
I run my finger up his left inner forearm where he has a similar bear tattooed, but this one has writing beneath it. It’s in Cyrillic, so I have no clue what it says. “What does this mean?”
“It’s my name in Russian.”
“Speak to me in Russian.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “Why?”
“Because I want to fall asleep to it, and it sounds sexy as fuck when you speak it.” When he hesitates, I say, “Please, Volodya. Just tell me whatever you’re thinking. Plus, you owe me. My pussy is really, really sore right now.”
He kisses the top of my head and laughs. “I’m not going to apologize for that, kiska. That felt too fucking amazing for me to feel regret about it.”
I smile and close my eyes as he switches to Russian. His voice is low and steady, and I quickly fall asleep to the sound of his beautiful language.