Natalya’s surprised one. Her small hands were suddenly tugging at Natalya’s boy shorts, pulling them down, but Natalya did not, could not, break the gaze. Alison’s fingers gave one final, sharp tug, and Natalya was naked, exposed. Her arousal on display.
“I see your eyes too,” Alison repeated quietly.
Natalya watched her uncertainly, even as she felt a hand dusting her source, tracing her quivers. Finding the telltale wetness betraying her sharp need.
“And I remind myself that your fans can want you all they like, and you can appreciate them admiring you, but they’re not who you chose, are they?” Alison studied her.
“No.” Natalya looked at her directly.
With a nod of approval, Alison made her way down Natalya’s body. She breathed hotly over her intimate flesh that was trembling to be touched, straining for attention.
Natalya closed her eyes, waiting, her breathing harsh and fast.
She felt Alison pause her inspection and heard her almost idle question. “Did you kill her? The masseuse who hurt your scar today? Because I know masseuses. Especially the expensive kind at that fancy salon you like. Unless specifically asked, they leave scars well alone. So I’m guessing that was no masseuse. I’m almost afraid to ask who she really was.”
Natalya’s eyes sprang open. She glanced down to find Alison watching her closely, her look hard to decipher. Natalya should have known better. It was something they both had in common—a sharp eye for details. She usually appreciated that quality in her lover.
“It was touch and go. But no. Still alive.” Natalya left her tone deliberately light. Alison could take it any way she liked.
“Did you have her then?” Again there was the strange expression.
The harsh, unspoken awareness hung between them—that this was what Requiem did. Requiem fucked anyone who fucked with her, one way or another. Of course Alison knew that better than anyone. But in some twisted way, this topic usually fell under the category of things from Requiem’s past they never discussed.
But today the past was the present. It was a reasonable question.
Natalya licked her lips. “No.” She added conviction to her voice. “No.”
Alison’s eyes glowed, and their faint glint of possessiveness, fear, and tension slipped away. Desire and warmth took their place. “Good,” she said lightly, as though Natalya had merely confirmed she’d picked up milk on the way home. “And now I’m going to make you forget anyone but me.”
Natalya shivered. Alison’s tongue was suddenly driving between her legs, and Natalya cried out at the sensation. Her fingers spasmed and clutched at the sheets as her body was plundered by Alison’s nimble tongue.
Natalya hovered between states of being as those demanding lips blew on her, pulled, licked, nibbled, and claimed her. Natalya gasped as the wetness flowed from her. Inside, it felt as if a wolf was howling, as though Requiem was crying out in abandonment, as Natalya twisted, moaned, shuddered, and finally came hard against the feverish mouth of the woman she had claimed as hers.
Hers.
“I feel.” Natalya exhaled the words so softly, unaware she’d even said them until the blue eyes halfway down the bed blinked up at her.
“Mmm,” Alison whispered against her flesh. “I know that. You pretend it’s only ever with a cello in your hands, but I know better. I’ve seen it. Especially fear.”
An objection flew to Natalya’s lips at this outrage. It died at Alison’s next words.
“When I told you my sister was coming for a visit.” Alison’s eyes danced with mirth. “Who knew even the scariest assassins have in-law anxieties?” Her look dared Natalya to deny it.
Natalya felt no desire to confirm that unsavoury little factoid. Her breath was still unsteady when she replied, “I meant that I feel love.”
It was something else they never talked about. Not since that night, two years ago in the rain, when she’d gone back for her and explained she was terrible at this, that she didn’t do love, but they should be together anyway.
She might not do love, but she’d felt it that night. A hint of it, a wisp, swirling around her senses, edging in, like a whisper demanding to be heard. The feeling had almost swallowed her whole when they’d kissed. The knowledge of what this thing between them might be had scared the daylights out of her. Not enough to run, though. She was no coward.
Natalya waited for Alison’s reaction, a lip caught between her teeth.
The stillness between them seemed to swallow all the oxygen. The intensity stripped any amusement from Alison’s eyes.
Natalya wondered if she’d made