Page 112 of Lethal Abduction

He smells achingly familiar, like smoke and spice, his chest rising and falling beneath my face in slightly hitched breaths that betray how hard he’s fighting for control.

Desire rips through me like lightning.

I move again. It’s the merest shift of my hips, the slightest parting of my legs, but it’s enough to make Dimitry inhale sharply, his hand stilling on my head.

Then his hand twines in my hair, turning my head up to face him. His eyes are the deep gray of a late afternoon storm, the golden sunlight lending them a glittering edge that sends a shudder through me. He makes a noise low in his chest that sets the blood racing through my veins. His hand tightens in my hair, and then his mouth takes mine.

Oh, fuck.

It’s both savage and slow, a mind-altering assault that is utterly consuming. His kiss holds the inherent danger of a great cat prowling behind bars, lethal power concealed behind a languorous exterior.

Dimitry’s kiss steals through my body like the slow dream he woke me from, breathing life into the parts of me I’ve forcibly shut down over the past months. It takes the raw sensuality of my waking arousal and turns it to an urgent, molten desire that pulls me like a magnet until I’m sprawled completely over him, moving slowly against his rock-hard shaft.

His hands slide down my body and close over my ass,angling me so his cock slides between my outer lips. He holds still, rocking my ass just enough to massage my impossibly swollen clit as he kisses my mind out, his tongue in my mouth as devastating as his fierce cock pulsing against me. I want him inside me, but I don’t dare move. I don’t dare do anything that might break the sensual half-waking state, might somehow bring the outside world into the magical golden-hued world of this bed.

Dimitry’s hands close about my hips, and suddenly I’m on my back and he’s sprawled across me, one large thigh pinning me to the bed as he kisses me on and on. One hand holds both of mine over my head. The other begins a slow, deliberate exploration of my body, from the hollow in my neck that makes me breathless on down to my breast. He pauses kissing me long enough to dampen his thumb, then works it over my nipple until I’m gasping into his mouth and straining toward him. His hand continues its lazy journey downward. He uses his knee to nudge my legs apart, the fierce heat of his cock like an iron brand on my thigh as his hand splays over my throbbing center. He groans into my mouth as his finger slips through the swollen folds and dips inside the liquid heat, feeling the undeniable evidence of my arousal.

I want his cock, but he keeps my hands locked over my head in an iron grip, even as his fingers move with a masterful dexterity that has me moaning into his mouth and squirming with need. He takes his mouth from mine, and I cry out, my spine arching as his fingers stroke me so close to the edge I’m losing my mind.

Dimitry sucks in a ragged breath, and I turn my head to find him staring at me, his eyes gleaming dangerously, face as still and grim as marble. His fingers move and I arch upward again, my lips parting as I stare at him. His powerful thigh still holds down one of my legs, but my other is drawn up andspread wide, opening as far as I can for him. His fingers move with devastating skill as his eyes hold mine, the late-afternoon sun lighting fires in their hollow darkness that burn straight through to my soul. His thumb slowly rotates my clit, and I cry out, writhing helplessly, my eyes still locked on his, the fire raging between us.

Dimitry holds me there on the edge, his eyes pinning me and his hard expression unchanging, until I’m riding an endless plateau of slow ripples that spread but don’t burst, the exquisite swell of slow sensation only he can prolong indefinitely.

Then he adjusts his touch. It’s the smallest movement, a crook of his finger, the stroke of something inside me that only he can ever find. This time when I cry out it’s half gasp, half shriek, my hands clutching helplessly against the large one holding them.

A muscle tics beneath the white scar cutting down Dimitry’s jaw, and suddenly he looms over me, nudging my legs apart. Positioning himself, he enters me in a silent, powerful thrust that knocks the breath from my body and sends my eyes rolling back in my head, my lids fluttering closed.

My hands are suddenly freed as he moves to lifts my leg, opening me for better access, and plunges into me with slow, strong strokes, holding himself at the hilt every time to make the swell inside me build into a raging storm. His hand slides under my ass, angling me upward, and suddenly his other hand is in my hair, pulling my head back.

“Look at me.” His voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the fierce edge behind it, the raw savagery he’s only barely keeping in check.

I open my eyes to find Dimitry’s on mine like a dark inferno, the gleaming sun making the fire a living thing which burns away the secrets and lies, the months of loneliness, andthe shadows that existed long before that, until nothing is left but the primitive elemental force that first drew us together.

He drives himself deep inside me, and the storm breaks, ripping me apart in its intensity. Dimitry’s mouth captures my scream, kissing me into oblivion as we both crash onto the shore together.

20

Dimitry

When I wake again, Abby is still tangled around me, our naked bodies cool with the night breeze. For a time I lie there, savoring her nearness, the soft rise and fall of her breasts against my side.

This is everything.

I’ve spent months trying to convince myself to let Abby go. But now that we’re here, I know with a deep, unshakable certainty that I can’t.

That Iwon’t.

I don’t give a fuck who’s chasing her or what the unholy bargain is that she made with that fucker back in the Bangkok hotel. I don’t care about the war that is undoubtedly coming, not even if I have to fight it alone.

And not even if fighting that war means leaving Roman behind forever.

It’s a prospect that’s been hanging over my head ever since the plane touched down on Thai soil and I went into action without the protection of the Stevanovsky clan and our local allies. Sooner or later, Roman and I are going to have to talk. He’s going to order me home.

And I’m going to tell him to go to hell.

Because no matter what it takes, who I have to betray or kill, nothing is ever getting between Abby and me again.

My hand strokes slowly over the sickening bruises marking her ribs. Some are old, others clearly fresh. Her face looks like one of her discarded paint palettes back in Malaga, the colors smeared into one another in a chaotic mess, evidence of a deliberate sadism that makes my stomach churn.

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