Chapter 16
Vivian
I’d be damned if the son of a bitch didn’t pull me into the shower.
With my clothes on.
Yes, he’d caught me red-handed. I’d thought escaping would be quick and easy.
I’d been wrong.
I stood in the middle of the oversized shower, gritting my teeth while some crazy sound slipped past my pursed lips.
“What are you doing?” I managed, completely stunned by what Kirill had done.
He stood just under one of two showerheads, so tall he barely fit under the oversize piece. I was forced to watch him as he raked his hands through his already damp hair, thinking about when he’d been wet the night before from the rain.
This was entirely different and sensual as hell.
Especially since I was being given an incredible show starring his physique. I’d seen men naked before. Of course I had, but this man, this godlike creature was perfect. Utterly perfect.
At least physically. When we added in his profession, his mannerisms, and his arrogance, he was… still perfect.
The shock had only started to wear off when he took one long stride toward me.
With the shower coming from both directions, I was soaked, the jeans sticking to my skin.
I started to object once again when he cupped both sides of my face, his fingers flexed open.
He couldn’t care less about his injury, especially when he captured my mouth, pulling me even closer.
Every time we were physical, I was pulled into a terrible feeling that everything that was happening was the product of some curse that had been placed on me. I’d felt that way since I was a teenager, the boy I’d loved from afar taken away even before I’d had my first kiss.
Then years later, my boyfriend in college had awakened one day, telling me that I just wasn’t right for him. He’d even switched schools, which had been a dead giveaway as to the truth about what had occurred to make him change his mind.
My father.
Maybe that’s why the man I’d given my heart to had been someone I was certain my father would never approve of. While to date I couldn’t prove either my dad or my uncle had been involved in the fiery crash, my gut told me I was right.
Now, this.
Kirill’s weakness. He’d told me the truth, as he had with sharing why hunting down the Ghost was so important. I was thrilled the sexy Russian hungered for me in a way he should consider dangerous, but I wasn’t entirely certain I would recover if my heart was shattered again.
I also wasn’t certain what this was, but I knew how my body was responding to Kirill’s touch. Every cell in my body was on fire, desire replacing the need to break free of him. I was blindsided by the raw emotions where everything up to this point had been completely physical.
We were too much alike, fate acting as if we were unfinished business when we were nothing but strangers.
Other than in the biblical sense.
What would happen when he discovered that I could be considered his enemy? Would he shove me aside? Trembling in his hold, I longed for his touch more now than I had before. Maybe for the reassurance that what we felt was real, even at its most basic level.
His actions were gentle at first, opening my mouth with his, darting his tongue inside. But I could feel the buildup, the hunger building to an intense precipice. There was no shoving aside this man. There was no telling him no.
The kiss was as passionate if not more so than before.
Even the way his fingertips were digging into my skin was incredible.
I could easily push aside all the reasoning why this wasn’t a good idea.
He swept his tongue back and forth as he pulled me even closer.
The rush of heat became exacerbated by the steam and our internal body temperature.
Everything became rougher, needier. To the point I couldn’t see straight.
He wasn’t satisfied with the sweet moment of intimacy or the closeness. He wanted more. He wanted everything.
As he ripped at my shirt, I thought about fighting him, but what was the point? He had no intention of letting me go and I doubted he’d make the mistake of turning his back on me. Not after what I’d done.
Even with an injured shoulder, he was quite adept at unfastening my jeans.
But with them being soaked, he was required to be rough with me in getting them off.
I wasn’t helping nor was I hindering, enjoying the view.
When I was finally free of my clothes, he shook his head so slowly that unless I was paying close attention, I wouldn’t be able to detect any movement.
“Nemnogiye zhenshchiny stol’ zhe obvorozhitel’ny i uvereny v sebe, skol’ i krasivy. Eto delayet tebya ochen’ opasnoy.” His voice was so deep, the baritone vibrating in the shower.
“What did you say to me?” I gripped his wrists, cognizant of his injury. What did it say about me that instead of wanting to hurt him that I couldn’t stand the thought of creating any additional pain?
“I said few women are as beguiling and confident as they are beautiful. That makes you very dangerous.”
“Why dangerous?”
He pressed our foreheads together. “Because as it is, I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”
His admittance was different than what I’d expected and where I should feel fear or anger with him for making such a bold statement, I didn’t. What in the world did that say about me?
As he shoved me against the shower wall, I felt more than a wave of longing. Something was burning deep within, a sense of being that I’d never expect with him or with being held captive. He yanked one arm over my head then the other, capturing both easily.
This time as he claimed my mouth, I moaned breathlessly into his, wiggling in his hold. But I wasn’t trying to escape. Not this time. I’d never wanted any man as much as I did him.
Maybe every other time of sharing intimacy had been all about foreplay.
His tongue assaulted mine as he pressed the full weight of his body against me.
My pussy was already throbbing, my inner core heated to a thousand degrees.
There was a sense of utter control with his actions as he swept his other hand down my side.
The light brush of his fingers was stimulating, ticklish in a way that made me quiver more than I’d been. With stars floating in front of my eyes, I cinched them closed to no avail. That’s how powerful his dominance over me was.
While the kiss was rough, the man taking what he wanted, there was also a sense of gentleness about him. I was torn with wanting and needing while longing to find the courage to push him away.
When he finally pulled his lips free, we were both exasperated, struggling to catch our next breath. He growled, the low-slung sound reverberating across my skin. He shoved his hand between us and my legs while nudging my thighs further apart with his knee.
There were so many things racing through my mind even as he dragged his tongue from one side of my jaw to the other.
All while finding my clit, flicking a single finger back and forth.
I was wet, so much so my thighs were slickened.
He took a deep whiff, holding the air in his lungs before plunging his fingers deep inside.
I was shocked by the almost instant climax, my body responding more violently to his touch.
How could I feel so incredible when he’d clearly threatened me.
Or had he? I couldn’t be sure and the thought was fading away as he teased my pussy, pumping in even, slow actions that would ultimately drive me crazy.
With my breath labored, my pulse skipping beats, I couldn’t move and didn’t want to. His fingers worked magic, keeping me in a sweet lull while he explored my face and neck with his tongue.
I was so hot, panting while the steam continued to rise.
This was amazing and insane, keeping me right on the edge before he pulled back, relentless in his need for me to orgasm.
He nipped my earlobe, holding the tender tissue in his mouth. Did he have any idea what he was doing to me?
His thumb rolled around my clit as he finger-fucked me, pushing me harder until I couldn’t take it any longer. The orgasm was wild, so powerful that I rose onto my toes.
Even the shrill scream echoed while I tossed my head from side to side.
“Mmm… You’re so wet. So fucking tight. I can’t wait to have my cock buried deep inside. Is that what you want?”
I heard the question. I knew what he was asking, but I was riding the high as I’d never done before. “Uh-huh.”
“Then tell me. Tell me what you want me to do just like you did before.”
“Fuck me.” The command was easy to say, so much so I laughed. I couldn’t believe I was giving into his demands.
His fingers continued assaulting my pussy, once again taking me to incredible highs while I panted and writhed in his hold. I was flying, reaching sheer rapture while he was staring at me, watching my every reaction.
When I started to come down from the high, he took a deep breath while removing his fingers. I could barely focus, taking gasping breaths. He rolled the tips of his slickened fingers across my lips before thrusting them inside.
“Suck for me, sweet Vivian. Suck on my fingers. Show me how hungry you are for me.”
I did as I was told, darting my tongue back and forth as he remained closer. The heat of our bodies was explosive, everything about him and the moment pushing so many boundaries of decency and sanity.
But I was beginning not to care.
I licked his fingers clean, tasting myself on him.
He leaned his mouth down, crushing his lips over mine as he let go of my arms. I eased both around his massive shoulders, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair while rubbing my fingers up and down his uninjured arm.
Not that I believed he’d care if I touched the other one.
He was too far gone, the passion taking us both to new heights, incredible moments.
And desperate needs.