Page 133 of Between Us

The taste of her, the warmth of her skin beneath his touch went straight to his cock. In an instant, he was hard and aching for her.

Alessandra moaned into his mouth, her fingers finding refuge in his hair. He shifted, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap over the center console. Her slippers tumbled to the floor noisily. With a yelp of surprise, she straddled his hips then laughed quietlybefore resuming their kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered between kisses. “So much.”

Despite having heard those words before, something in his chest tightened. The way he felt about her was more than he could express through a simple declaration. So he showed her instead.

He slowed his pace, caressing her sides as he peppered reverent kisses along her throat and collarbones.

Alessandra let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She was so beautiful, sometimes he still couldn’t believe she was all his. Her long hair was loose, cascading down her back in gentle waves. Roman ran his fingers through the locks and a whiff of her shampoo mixed with her favorite perfume hit him like a dose of pheromones injected straight into his bloodstream.

“Fuck,” he cursed, pulling her closer. “I need you.”

“Then take me,” she said, looking down at him with the same want he felt in every cell of his body.

Roman's hands felt unsteady as they grabbed the waistband of her leggings and tugged them down her hips. She lifted herself up to help him take them off then reached for his belt.

He let out a hiss between clenched teeth, watching as she unzipped his pants and cupped him through his boxer briefs. He grabbed the outer side of her thighs, squeezing the flesh greedily as he dragged her hips closer to his aching cock.

Alessandra met his gaze, an impish twinkle playing in her brown eyes. Bracing one hand on his shoulder, she used the other to pull him out. Then, withouthesitation, she pushed her thong to the side and sank down on him until he was buried to the hilt inside of her.

Roman had to hold back a groan at the feel of her wrapped so tightly around him. He caressed her thighs, his head falling back against the seat's headrest as he watched her through heavy lids.

She took the lead, rising up and down at a slow pace that drove him wild. He felt her, deep under his skin where no woman before her had ever reached. It was thrilling and it was terrifying all the same.

But he knew it in that moment. He would gladly accept that weakness because she was everything to him.

For her, he was going to make everything right again.

Intermission II

It was a regular Sunday night toward the end of autumn.

Or, at least Davit thought so.

The first sign of something being off was the sound of the commotion happening down the hall from his office.

Rising from his chair, he gave his son a sharp look, telling him to be quiet. From the floor where he lay with a coloring book, Zgon’s little face twisted with confusion as he watched his father reach into the top drawer of his desk for the gun he had stashed behind a pile of papers.

Davit's hand felt unsteady on the gun. He thought it could be from the four glasses of whiskey he had indulged in for the past two hours. But a nagging part of his brain knew better and it told him so. He hadn't touched a gun in far too long. Hadn't needed to. His men always did the dirty work for him.

Checking the chamber, he was relieved to see it wasfully loaded.

No matter what happened tonight, he wasn't going to go down like a coward. Especially not in front of his son.

The commotion grew louder as it came closer to his office.

Since Tigran, Hovak and some others had met their gruesome end the night before, Davit knew exactly who had now come for him.

The secret door in the basement pulled at his mind, beckoning him from its location farther down the hall. It was too far away and there was no time to reach it. Alas, he had to think fast and work with what he had.

A frown pulled on his eyebrows. Despite his anger, he had to give it to Roman. The boy was smarter than Davit had given him credit for.

His gaze moved from the closed office door to the child in the room. Even if things didn’t turn out the way he wanted, his conscience was free of regrets. There was no room for them in his life. So, what was some last-minute scheming to a mind that couldn't be bothered with the weight of guilt?

“Yekek' aystegh,”he told his son in a firm voice, his outstretched hand urging him to come.

The young boy stood from his spot on the floor and walked to his father, something close to panic dancing in his dark eyes.

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