Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Svetlana’s breath caught as Idris’ mouth pressed against hers in a soft kiss that might as well have been an electrical jolt the way it zinged through her entire body.
Her lips parted on a sigh as he embraced her, a gentle caress that came with an impressive erection pressing against her lower belly. Definitely not faked.
She leaned into him as they kissed, forgetting where they were, and why, until a door slammed and someone shouted in Russian, “I’ll be back after my cigarette.”
The disruption had them pulling apart.
His eyes crinkled. “Not exactly how I’d planned our first kiss.”
“So you’ve thought about it?”
“Too much, considering the stakes.”
“Speaking of which, while this alley is lovely, we can’t stay here forever. Not only would it look odd, but we won’t be able to see Yuri when he leaves the restaurant.”
“If they haven’t ambushed him yet, then he’s probably safe.”
“Unless they’re waiting in her room.”
“In that case, there’s nothing we can do. Hell, if they showed up now, we’d be hard-pressed to get away.” The tender man had disappeared, and Svetlana was to blame.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying, I’m just worried. It’s been me and Yuri for so long that the thought of losing him…” She trailed off, and he didn’t press, but rather, dropped a soft kiss on her lips.
“Honestly, I think he’ll be fine.”
“Unless Olga decides she’s sleeping alone. Then you’ll see Yuri huffing.” Svetlana rolled her eyes. “My brother is convinced he is God’s gift to women. I don’t think he could handle rejection.”
“I might have sulked, too, if you’d not kissed me back”—said with a wry smile.
She laughed. “The attraction is mutual, my big Canadian bear.”
Idris laced his fingers in hers. “Ready to take another stroll past the restaurant and head back to the hotel?”
“Yes.” Because Idris was right. If they planned to ambush Yuri, they most likely would have done it by now. The KGB didn’t care if they had an audience. Public displays just added to their ominous aura.
The smoker had gone back inside, leaving the alley empty as they retraced their steps.
They emerged from it as a pair of uniformed agents turned the corner.
Before she could even think of panicking, Idris spun her into him for a kiss.
A kiss meant to conceal their features, but the passion simmering between didn’t care.
The agents passed them and snickered, “Get a room.” They saw nothing suspicious in two people sharing a passionate embrace.
A kiss that lasted longer than their cover needed, but she didn’t mind.
They resumed walking, taking their time so they didn’t pass the restaurant too fast. This time, she managed a peek and saw her brother, sitting at a table, wine glass in hand, laughing at something the woman across from him said.
A petite and beautiful blonde, exactly his type.
Safe for the moment, and, by the looks of it, he’d be hours still.
As they kept walking, she murmured, “Looks like Yuri is fine, and it’s getting chilly. Time to return to the hotel.”
“Are you sure?”
“You suggested it.”
“I did, but I know how worried you are. We could stop somewhere to warm up.”
And risk being recognized? She shook her head. “Too risky. We might be recognized.” Time for her to stop fretting about her brother. Yuri made the choice to put himself in danger. She could only hope his gamble paid off.
They didn’t say much as they neared the rundown hotel. They avoided going through the main lobby in favor of the entrance at the back. Idris held open the door for her and followed her up the stairs.
Upon entering the room, a sudden awkward shyness took her. Given the kiss they’d shared, Idris must expect—
“Want to watch television?”
She almost blurted out, Seriously? What a rare gentleman. He didn’t push her. Didn’t cajole. It was almost annoying.
“I do not want to watch television.” She grabbed Idris by the jacket and tugged him close. “What I want is for you to show me how Canadians make love.”
“Are you sure?”
“Does this answer your question?” She mashed her mouth against his, and his arms wrapped around her tight.
Her lips parted for his questing tongue, and she pressed herself against him, only to get annoyed at all the layers.
“So much clothes,” she grumbled as her fingers undid those on his jacket so she could slide it off his broad shoulders. Both their hats went flying, shoes, shirts, and pants too, the pair of them eager.
When they stood only in undergarments, they came together again. The fur on his chest tickled her flesh, but she didn’t mind. It added to the sensations that rendered her breathless.
He cupped her ass and held her close, his briefs doing little to hide the evidence of his erection. An impressive hard-on that she couldn’t wait to feel inside her.
He sucked her lower lip, tugging at it, and she uttered a soft sound of pleasure. She did the same to him, only she used her teeth to nip, and he drew in a sharp breath.
Those big paws of his skimmed her body, stroking down her back to the indent of her waist. Smoothed over the narrow flare of her hips before, once more, cupping her buttocks and lifting her so his erection might press against the apex of her thighs, thrilling pressure that had her gasping.
He hooked his thumbs in her panties and dragged them down, kneeling as he did so. Since she still stood, she braced her hands on his shoulders, a good thing since her knees buckled when he nuzzled her pubes.
“Put a leg over my shoulder,” he ordered.
She could have suggested they move to the bed, but she rather enjoyed having him on his knees.
Her left leg draped over him, anchoring but also exposing her.
He blew hotly on her sex, and she would have fallen if not for the hands holding her.
He licked her, his tongue parting her nether lips.
He groaned as he tasted her, the vibrating rumble of his compliment, “Sweetest honey ever,” just adding to her titillation.
He suckled and teased, his tongue alternating between flicking against her clit and slipping into her sex.
He stroked her with pause, building her need, making it coil tight.
His tongue and lips teased her clit, while a finger slid inside, giving her something to clench, but she wanted more.
“Now,” she ordered. One word, but he understood.
He managed to get her leg off his shoulder while keeping her upright. He stood and captured her lips in a kiss that had her clinging to him. His erection throbbed against her lower belly, still confined in his briefs.
She let her hands drop to grab the waistband and tug, pulling them down over his taut buttocks, releasing his cock. She grabbed it with two hands and hissed, “Jeezus, you’re big.”
“If it’s too much—”
She caught his lips and murmured, “It’s just right.” And to prove it, she climbed him, wrapping a leg around his hip, hoping he’d get the hint.
He palmed her ass and lifted her so she could wrap the other leg.
His cock pointed upwards, pinned between them.
Once more, she clasped it, this time to guide the head of it toward the mouth of her sex.
She rubbed it first, coating it in her honey, making it slick.
Then she began taking it into her pussy.
Slowly. Letting him stretch her. Fill her. It was the most delicious sensation.
She trembled as he went deep. She shuddered as she clenched him. So close to the brink.
She cupped his cheeks and drew him to her for a kiss, murmuring, “Fuck me.”
He groaned and began to move his hips, driving into her, short nudges that felt so good as they butted against her sweet spot.
Torture and bliss that had her on the edge and growling, “Harder.”
Immediately, his hips pulled back and thrust, pushing his thick cock deep, deep and hard enough she gasped each time he slammed in.
She held on as he pistoned, gasping for breath, tightening with each stroke, caught at that pleasurable edge before she crashed over it.
She cried out as she came, her head thrown back, her fingers digging. She tightened and undulated, clamping down on his cock, drawing his own climax, and the pulse of his release rolled her into a second, even more intense, breathtaking orgasm.
When she finally could think again—barely—she found herself cradled in his arms, her head tucked under his chin. He held her tight.
“Mmm. Canadians really do know how to please a woman,” she murmured.
“And Russians have the sweetest honey”—his reply.
A comment that had her tingling and naughtily saying, “How’s your stamina?”
Pretty damned good, as it turned out.
As they lay collapsed on the bed, basking in the afterglow, she sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“For the first time in my life, I actually wouldn’t have minded snuggling someone to sleep.”
“But you’re worried about Yuri’s reaction.”
She nodded.
“Guess we’ll have to talk to him about the fact we’re lovers.” Idris spoke as if it would happen again.
She didn’t protest because she knew it would. But first she’d have to talk to Yuri. After they dressed, Idris gave her a tender kiss before they climbed into separate beds.
He stared at her as he whispered, “Night, beautiful.”
Exhaustion took her more quickly than expected, and she didn’t wake until someone tapped at the door.
Before she could rouse enough to answer, Idris did, bounding from his bed to let in Yuri.
Her brother took one step inside, flared his nostrils, and immediately swung his fist.