Page 43 of The Russian Retribution

I study the sharp angles of his face, which soften in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. His eyes sparkle, and when he glances at me, his smile widens a fraction.

My heart skips another beat and a bubble of giddiness flutters under my ribs.

Then I make a move.

When he leans back into the seat, I curl my fingers into the silk creases of his shirt and kiss him.

17

ERIK

She’s kissing me.

Again.

All thoughts of keeping my distance out of respect for her while working to get Viktor the answers he needs fly right out of my mind, just like every other time she’s this close to me. She’s intoxicating, and I throw myself down willingly at the mercy of her poison because I’m addicted.

I shouldn’t be.

But I am.

Everything about her utterly captures me, and the more I learn about her, the harder I fall.

It might have started as curiosity and lust, but something more profound is forming inside me. I find myself eager to make her flash that small, hidden smile. I want to find the softness in her eyes and warm myself with the knowledge that she’s fed and watered because of me. I want to stare at her while the wind drifts through her hair and the sun warms her cheeks. I want tohear her voice in my ear like my own inner thoughts. I want to hear her talk about the things she enjoys, which seem so few in her current life.

All of that collides fiercely with my loyalty to Viktor and his own desires.

How do I make peace with my feelings for Anastasia while trying to bring satisfaction to the man who’s been like a father to me?

Right now, she’s winning.

The soft press of her lips against my own makes me float. I breathe in, and her slightly creamy, fruity scent nestles into my lungs like some kind of aphrodisiac. My temperature immediately shoots up, and warmth curls across the surface of my skin, mainly radiating from where her hand curls into my shirt and grips like some kind of lifeline.

I close my eyes and touch her cheek. Her skin is soft underneath my fingertips and warm to the touch. Strands of her hair brush against the back of my knuckles as I cup her face and slide my fingers into her hairline in order to firmly clasp her jaw. Sliding my hand down until the edge of my palm rests against her neck, I thread my fingers around her ear and tilt my head to deepen the kiss.

She doesn’t let me go. She kisses me harder and then her lips part, inviting me in.

I can’t resist. I don’t want to.

My tongue slides past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth, chasing the lingering heat left from the tea she was drinking. The cup clinks slightly to my right as she sets it down somewhere, and then her body melts against mine while our tongues weaveand dance together. She presses up so I press down. She goes left, I go right. We curl together, massaging and tasting the depths of one another until the desperate, small breaths through my nose aren’t enough.

We part quickly, gasping for air. I open my eyes.

Anastasia’s cheeks are flushed red and saliva shines against her lower lip. With her lips parted and her eyes slightly glazed over, she appears stunned and happy. Then her lips press together and as I slide my thumb down the length of her throat, I feel her swallow.

“I…” She tries to speak, but her voice is already throaty, so I lean forward and kiss her, hushing her.

“Let me take care of you.”

She meets my eyes and nods.

I kiss her again, but this time I use pressure and my own body to press her down onto the couch and into the pile of cushions she’s been resting against. A soft gasp escapes her when our lips part and I move my mouth to the sharp line of her jaw. Her head falls back, and her hands move from my shirt to my shoulders. When her fingers dig into my muscles, I graze my teeth lightly against her throat and draw another gasp from her parted lips.

I take my time. Each kiss is soft and tender. Each nibble against her jaw and throat is gentle enough to leave a subtle mark but bring no pain. I map her out, from jaw to collarbone, until I’m certain I can redraw her from memory. She’s panting and gasping by the time I reach the juncture of her shoulder and neck. Bracing my bodyweight on one arm planted next to her shoulder, my other hand caresses her breasts and then followsthe rumpled lines of her T-shirt down to the soft hem of her leggings.

I’m about to ask her if she wants more, but just as I part my lips and take a breath, her hips suddenly jerk up into my touch and it’s all the answer I need. Dipping beneath the waistband of her leggings, my fingers slide into the warmth built between fabric and skin. Anastasia’s hands cup my face and she pulls my head up to press a kiss to my lips just as my fingers reach her panties.

A subtle flash of pain throbs across my lower lip as she bites down just enough to get my attention. My revenge comes in sliding my hand deeper into her underwear until my fingers press between her soaked outer lips and I’m lost to the searing heat of her pussy. Anastasia arches up against me and a deeper, more sultry moan rolls from her lips as I press my fingers between her soaked folds and stroke across her clit.

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