open and her eyes still closed. My hands reached the
backs of her shoulders, strong fingers pressing firmly
into her aching muscles, and it turned into a groan.
My hands carried on down, following the arch of her
spine, and reached the gorgeous, upthrust curve at the
top of her rump and she held her breath, biting her lip
in a way that made my cock surge. I held her like that
for a second...and then my hands were on her ass,
squeezing hard, working the firm flesh with my fingers,
and she moaned. That did it. I had to kiss her again so I
covered her lips with mine, absorbing her cries as I
pulled her groin tight against mine and let her feel how
hard she’d made me.
When we broke the kiss again, both of us were hazy-
eyed, almost drunk with it. I’d never wanted a woman
so goddamn much. And I’d never wanted it like this,
wanted her as well as her body.
This wasn’t just about sex anymore. And that was going
to make the sex even better.
“Where do we go?” I muttered. I had to keep my voice
low because my face was so close to hers and I couldn’t
bear to move back.
She writhed against me. She knew what I meant: not
my place or yours, but here in the building. Neither of
us could wait.
“There’s a store cupboard,” she gasped, her eyes heavy-
lidded. “Where they store all the old musical
instruments. But it’s full of spiders.” Then she blinked
and gave me one of those icy, imperious glares I loved
so much. “Which I’m not scared of.”
I felt myself grin. “Uh-huh.” I loved that she had a fear.
She was normally so tough. “How about here?” I looked
around the room: big and airy and not at all dark or
private. But the building was pretty much empty.
She glanced at the door. “Someone might come in.”
“Someone might come in,” I agreed.
I watched her carefully as she thought about it, loving
the battle between her fears and her lust. She kept
looking from the door to me, her eyes focused on my
chest. And then, suddenly, she said, “Kakogo chyorta.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the hell with it,” she said. And pressed herself
hard against me, her head tilting up for my kiss.
24
Irina
I heard him growl deep in his throat and then his whole
body was pressed to mine from shoulder to thighs, the
heat of him throbbing into me. His lips were savage but
they teased as much as they demanded—they’d ravish
me hard and then pull back just a little, making me rise
up en pointe to keep contact. Every time he did it, I felt
him smile against my lips: he wanted me to be active,
wanted a partner, not a passive doll. He was so
different to the Russians Vasiliy had tried to pair me
with in the past. Oh, they’d say that they wanted a
woman to enjoy sex, but to them that meant she smiled
before sucking their cock. If you actually showed what
you wanted, they made you feel like a freak.
Not Angelo. Sex with him was like a dance and, as new
partners, we were feeling each other out. His hands slid
down my back, cupping my ass through the Lycra, and I
could feel his chest swell against me as he drew in a
breath, reveling in the feel of me. That sent a deep, hot
twist of pleasure straight down to my groin—no one had
ever touched me with such obvious bliss. I could feel
him noting my responses, using my moans to guide him
in exactly how I liked to be handled.
His hands explored my whole body through my leotard,
the material thin enough that the warmth of his hands
soaked straight through to my skin as he palmed my
breasts and made slow circles over them. I moved in
rhythm with him, feeling my nipples harden, pressing
my breasts wantonly to him and groaning to let him
know when he was going at just the right speed.
He moved his head beside mine, laying a string of tiny
kisses down my ear before he spoke. “I’m taking that
thing off you, now.”
I glanced at the door and tried to figure out how much
time we had before the janitor made his rounds. But
then he kissed down the length of my throat and every
touch of his lips sent a pulse of heat expanding out
across my skin, merging and multiplying like ripples on a
pond, until I was squirming and panting, eyes closed
and hands grabbing at his shoulders for support.
His hands followed behind his lips, smoothing down the
length of my bare neck and throat. There’s no feeling in
the world like being caressed by a really big, strong set
of hands that you trust to never, ever hurt you. His
thumbs traced my collarbones and then, without
hesitation, his fingers hooked under the shoulder straps
of my leotard...and hooked them down and off. I caught
my breath as my shoulders were bared. Even that tiny
bit of nudity felt scandalous in the huge, light room.
But before I could get too nervous, his lips came down
on my bare shoulder, kissing it gently and then working
inward to my throat. I didn’t protest—I forgot how to
protest. He started to peel the leotard lower, rolling it
down over itself. I could hear his breathing quicken as
the upper slopes of my breasts were revealed, the Lycra
stretching tighter and tighter as it neared their peaks.
He must have realized, by now, that I wasn’t wearing a
separate bra.
Something else was happening, too: as he rolled the
fabric down, the shoulder straps were trapping my arms
against my body. Already, my hands had had to slide
from Angelo’s shoulders to his hips. Soon, my arms
would be pinned and I’d be helpless. The idea only
added to the building heat.
I could feel him looking at me. I opened my eyes,
heavy-lidded and slow, and saw him staring with
wonder at my chest—I’d never seen a more intense look
of lust. His powerful hands rolled the fabric lower,
lower...and with a sudden rush, my breasts spilled free,
the skin throbbing in the chill air.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “You’re fucking perfect. I’ve been
trying to guess how you’d look but...you’re even better.”
My chest went tight. “Thank you,” I breathed.
He hooked the leotard an inch lower, so my breasts
were completely free, and leaned in close. I felt his hot
breath on me an instant before his tongue bathed my
nipple—God! I’d been dreaming of that mouth on me,
imagining what that hard upper lip and the soft,
sensuous lower would feel like on my body, but my
fantasies hadn’t come close.
I let out a high little cry of need and that seemed to set
him off. He grabbed me by the upper arms and tugged
me against him, opening his mouth wide so that he
could lick and suck as much of me as possible, not just
the stiffening nipple and areola but the soft skin around
it. He started gently and grew rougher, spurred on by
my moans. He covered his teeth with his lips and gave
me soft little bites that made me shudder and gasp. He
twisted his tongue around the base of each nipple and
spiraled upward to the tip. When his mouth wasn’t
enough, he used one hand to work my shining breast
and moved his lips to the other.
I wanted to grab at him, to undress him, but by now the
shoulder straps of the leotard were down around my
elbows, trapping my arms to my sides. I clutched at his
ass instead, delighting at the hardness of him. Then he
was rolling the leotard lower and lower, eager to reveal