Page 62

Dimitry

I wake from a dead sleep in late afternoon with a lurch of fear and a raging hard-on.

It takes a minute for the events of the previous days to reassert themselves, and another few for my heart to slow down.

My hard-on, however, isn’t going anywhere.

Unfortunately, I can also hear the low murmur of voices on the patio outside. Reluctantly I roll out of bed, trying to erase the lingering dream of Abby’s naked body from my mind as I head for the shower.

It doesn’t work.

I stand under the cascading water, one hand on the tiled wall, unable to think of anything but being inside her, and all too aware that without some kind of fucking miracle, our time here might be the last chance I ever get to lose myself in that paradise.

The door creaks tentatively open.

“Dimitry?” Abby says softly.

I turn my head. The sweet afternoon light silhouettes the long limbs beneath her sarong, turning her hair into spun gold. Longing grips me so hard it punches the air from my lungs.

I reach out and pull her beneath the water, taking her gurgle of laughter with my mouth, transforming it to the low, needy moan that drives me insane.

I tug at the knot holding the material up and toss the sodden sarong out onto the floor, followed quickly by her bikini.

I reach for the liquid soap and pump it into my hand, staring at the long, athletic limbs that look like they’ve been sculpted just for me, at the pink-topped breasts that make my mouth water.

“Turn around.”

Abby’s eyes glaze over. Her lips part slightly, and it’s all I can do not to push her to her knees and thrust my cock between them.

She turns, not altogether steadily, and I slowly lather the soap between my hands, my eyes locked to the soft curve of her ass.

I put my hands on her hips and she trembles, pushing back toward me.

“Part your legs.”

She moans, leaning against the glass wall that overlooks the bay as she widens her stance, trembling when I place my hands on the back of her thighs. I stroke slowly upward, and her ass pokes toward me, her back arching and legs slowly widening as my thumbs circle higher.

“Oh!” She gasps as my thumbs slide beneath the globes of her ass, then further, to glide along her outer lips and massage the swollen heat between them.

Fuck. My cock leaps savagely. I slide one hand up, along the length of her spine, and she turns her head to capture my fingers in her mouth, her tongue writhing around them until my eyes almost roll back in my head.

I take them from her mouth before I lose it completely and slip my hand around to scissor her nipple between two soapy fingers.

“Oh, God.” Her head goes back, and she quivers as I slowly work her puffy outer lips with one hand and her nipples with the other. She spreads her legs wider.

“Is there something you want, Skip?” I trail my tongue up her neck, and she tilts her head to the side to allow me better access, her hands sliding as she starts to sway back toward me.

“Keep your hands on the glass.”

She shudders and does as she’s told. Her legs are shaking, spread so wide I can see the glistening coral center of her, swollen and aching.

I glide my shaft against the crack of her ass, and she groans softly.

“You want my fingers.”

Her face nods against the glass, her eyes slitted with lust.

“You’re going to need to say it, Skip.”

The head of my cock is pulsing, my thumb so close to her hot opening it makes my mouth water.

“I want you to touch me.” Her voice is husky.

“Touch you where?” I slide my whole hand beneath her, cupping her silken heat.

She makes a small noise that vibrates all the way to my balls.

“Here?” I slide my fingers on either side of her lips again, and her whole body shakes.

“No!” She pushes her ass further back, and my cock slips up between her cheeks again. “You know what I want,” she pants, her nipple hard between my fingers.

“Say it.” I’m barely holding on.

“My clit.” The words are a gasp. “Touch my clit.”

I smile darkly. “All you had to do was ask, Skip.”

My fingers slip between the folds, and I almost lose my fucking mind.

I press my mouth against her ear. “You’re so fucking swollen.” I slip my thumb inside her and close my eyes at the ribbed, molten tightness. “Fuck, Abby. You’re so wet and tight... Christ.”

I roll her clit until her every breath is a moan and my cock is so hard I feel like it’s going to explode.

“Fuck me,” Abby groans, her hands pressing against the glass as she pushes back toward me.

“Not yet.” I peel her limp body away from the glass and turn her around to face me.

Christ.

Soap glistens on her breasts, dripping from the taut nipples. Her pulsing clit pokes through the blonde triangle, begging to be tasted, but I know if I put my mouth on it she’ll come in an instant. Her eyes are locked onto my cock, and she licks her lips unconsciously.

“On your knees.”

She sinks down with a soft moan that drives me fucking insane, staring up at me with her lips parted, waiting.

My hand twines in her hair, holding her there as I savor the moment. Her knees slide further apart, showing off her glistening need.

“Hands behind your back.”

She does as she’s told, her darkening nipples and hitched breath betraying her arousal.

“Open your mouth.”

Her lips open with a soft gasp, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes open slowly, glazed and dark, and I stare down at her as I feed my cock into her mouth, inch by inch, teeth gritted in the effort to stay in control.

She moans around my shaft, and it leaps in her mouth.

My hands tangle in her hair as she sinks onto me, her tongue swirling the ridge beneath the head of my cock until I can barely breathe, let alone stand.

Still I hold her there, savoring the delicious pressure of her mouth sliding up and down my pounding cock, poised right on the brink and riding the feeling as long as I can.

Abby squirms on the tiles, her hips gyrating in slow circles.

“Touch yourself.”

Her hand comes around her belly like she’s hypnotized, slides between her legs, and she gasps around me.

“Fuck this.” I lift her from the floor. “I need to be inside you.” Ignoring the soap and the running water, I virtually carry her out of the shower and lay her down on the bed. Lifting her leg, I plunge inside her in one smooth, hard stroke.

Oh, fuck.

There are no memories, no dreams, that can ever compare to this. To the silken, ribbed clench of her around my cock, the smooth walls that feel designed just for me.

“Ohhh!” Abby cries against my ear, her soap-slick legs wrapping around me in a wet, hot cocoon. “Fuck, Dimitry...”

I lift her ass and thrust deeper, groaning as I hit balls deep and stay there for a minute, rocking against her. I withdraw slowly, the head of my cock nudging the sweet, spongy part of her that makes Abby cry and shudder against me.

“I’m so close,” she whispers against my ear. “So fucking close, Dimitry.”

“I want to feel you come.” I thrust home hard, and she gasps. I take her mouth, groaning at the sweet taste of her, lost in the magic I thought I might never feel again. I duck my head down to take her nipple, and Abby cries out softly, arching beneath me.

Her hips buck, and I feel the first ripple of her coming orgasm.

Pulling back, I stare down at her swollen mouth, the peaks of her breasts, her dark eyes locked onto mine.

“I love you, Abby,” I say roughly. “Fuck, I love you.”

I gather her close and surge into her, feeling it come from the base of my fucking spine like a runaway train, the sensation too intense to think of stopping.

Abby clenches around me fiercely as her climax hits, her hands clutching at my back, the intense richness erasing everything but this moment of sheer sensation.

I thrust home deep, roaring at the mind-bending torrent of release, holding on to that sublime, ecstatic escape until the very last of the tremors fade from us both.

“I need to get moving.” I rub a hand across my face and pull Abby closer, closing my eyes as I inhale the soft scent of her shampoo, feel the delicious length of her against me.

“This is night three since we took you from that hotel. Everyone knows you’re missing by now.

If we’re going in, it needs to be tonight or tomorrow—and even then, we might be too late. ”

Abby shifts against me, her lips pressed to my neck. “You need to eat something first.”

I quirk my eyebrows down at her, and she rolls her eyes, though she’s smiling.

“You already did that.” She punches my shoulder lightly. “For someone who’s supposedly exhausted, you put on a pretty good show, muscle boy.”

“Oh, believe me, Skip, I’m just getting started.” I take a pretend bite out of her breast, and she giggles, pushing me away.

I’m not joking. Despite a very long and satisfying afternoon siesta, of which the shower was just the prelude, I’m still half hard and more than a little tempted to get food sent to the room and then eat it off Abby’s body, piece by piece.

I’m also extremely conscious of the fuckers I need to kill, and the fact that time is already running short.

Despite the overwhelming odds, I feel remarkably relaxed. Exhilarated, even. Roman’s absence might feel like I’m missing a fucking limb, but it’s not going to stop me from getting this done.

Having Abby back at my side, and underneath my body, has set me more alight than a drug ever could. I feel like I could storm a fucking castle single-handed.

Which is good, because that’s pretty much what I’m planning to do.

“Dimitry.” Abby traces a finger over my chest. Her eyes are turned away from me, but the wary tone in her voice is enough to set off alarm bells.

“Hm?” I stroke her hair, hoping to hell it’s not more bad news.

“I spoke to Darya.”

My hand stills.

Night has fallen. Through the open glass doors floats the whirr of cicadas and the scent of incense from a nearby prayer offering.

It’s so peaceful it’s hard to believe that death is stalking us—or that Abby might have done something that could bring that darkness to the people we both care about the most.

Equally, I don’t want to fuck this up.

I clear my throat. “Why?” My voice is remarkably calm, given how pissed off I am.

“She called me. Or rather, Zinaida did.” Briefly she explains the background to the call, and I slowly relax, then become increasingly curious.

What did she say about Roman?

I’m desperate to ask, but I also don’t want to know. I walked away, and I have to live with that choice.

And besides, the fucker isn’t here, is he? It’s not like he’s picked up a phone, even though Darya’s no doubt told him by now that she spoke to Abby.

Of course he hasn’t.

That’s not Roman Stevanovsky’s style. Apologies are like getting blood out of a stone on a good day. But after I’ve basically told him we’re done?

Yeah—the only way that gets fixed is by me crawling back.

And there’s no fucking way that’s happening. Definitely not to ask for his help.

“Darya said he misses you,” Abby says softly. Her head is still lying on my chest. I realize that my hand twined in her hair is gripping just a little too hard, my heartbeat thudding just a little too fast, for the lazy situation we’re in.

“Yeah, well.” I clear my throat again and carefully untangle my hand, slowly edging out from her side. “Roman is Roman, you know that as well as I do. And right now, he doesn’t matter, anyway. We need to get on with this, Abs.”

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. My stomach rumbles. I turn back and grin at her. “You weren’t wrong, by the way. I’m starving. Let’s get fed and get on with planning.”

“Wait.” She props herself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping, and my eyes drift down to the candy-pink nipples I’ve just had my mouth around. My cock leaps.

“You need to pull that sheet up, Skip, or we’re never getting out of this bedroom.”

I’m only half joking.

Abby doesn’t smile. “We do need to plan, you’re right. And I need to tell you about the man we’re going after.”

We?

I appreciate the support, but there’s something about the way she says the word that makes me think she’s talking about more than fucking cheering me on.

That said, I’m not about to stop her from telling me the one part of this little tale she’s been holding back.

I’m also fucking relieved. We’ve been skirting around this issue from the moment I walked into that hotel room. I respect Abby’s choices, but it’s also a tough call to try to kill a man when you don’t have either a name or a face.

So I touch her leg lightly and smile. “I appreciate that, Skip. For a while there I was worried I’d just have to kill everyone in the place and hope I hit the right target.”

Abby gives a silent huff of humorless laughter. “You’d have fucking done it, too, wouldn’t you?”

My smile fades at her tense expression. “Yeah, Skip.” My hand tightens briefly on her leg, and I don’t look away. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I would have done.”

She takes a deep breath. Then her hand covers mine, and she nods slowly.

“Then it’s definitely time we talked.”