Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,132
twisted to hunch over her. His hands held her arms, his feet locking her legs down to the mattress. In a sense, he’d restrained her again. She couldn’t touch, tease, torment, or fight him this way.
“Sergei,” she warned, a little apprehension coming through in her tone.
He was beyond speech, overcome with need. He kissed her neck in a vain attempt to express regret for not taking this slower like he’d intended. Next time. Or the time after that. His teeth raked her skin, his mouth trailed down her back, all the while keeping her imprisoned within his dark embrace.
Spreading her legs, he pushed himself heavy between them and penetrated her from behind in one hard, deep thrust.
Air escaped her in a gasp while he growled with the intense pleasure, tightness, and heat as he sheathed himself deeply within her. His hips drove into hers, the power and weight of his body keeping her captive beneath him. He released her hands and burrowed his under her, one banding her chest, his hand holding her breast, the other snaked down her stomach to find and stroke her clitoris.
She screamed as she came, and he still rode her. Not giving any quarter as he took her, forcing one climax after another from her until he could no longer withhold his own.
A guttural sound escaped his lips as he gave himself over to the pleasure that had the power to bind him to her forever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kate woke up...alone.
Memories of how devastated she’d felt the last time this had happened sank into her consciousness. Quickly followed by the heavy guilt of Perry’s death later that same morning. Her shame and culpabilities had been hard to explain to her superiors and herself. She’d promised herself that this wouldn’t happen again. And here she was.
Alone.
Sunshine sliced through the windows. The blizzard had blown itself silent much like the fervor she’d had for Sergei’s blood. By her calculations, since the sun didn’t rise early in Alaska this time of year, it was around noon. The aches and tenderness in her body bore testimony that she hadn’t dreamt last night or early this morning. She’d been well used. And had done an equal amount of using herself.
She tossed her hair out of her face and rubbed her eyes. How much ground had she lost? Each time they’d come together, she’d lost more of her heart to him until she didn’t know how much of it was actually hers anymore.
The door suddenly opened, and Sergei entered. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder and he held coffee mugs in each hand.
He paused in the doorway. “Dobriy den’,” he murmured, his tone gritty, slumberous.
“Afternoon,” she returned, understanding at least that much Russian. She didn’t want to think about how she looked as his eyes drank her in. She’d never cared about her appearance before. Just because this bear of a man stood there all hot and sexy didn’t mean she needed to add a bit of make up, though she suddenly felt compelled to do so. Sergei had dressed in another flannel shirt, this one a dark gray. His jeans had been black at one time but were worn more charcoal in color with a small tear above the knee.
How observant was she that she’d slept through his rising, showering, and dressing? She never let her guard down like this. It had only happened one other time, and that had been with him also. What kind of power did he have over her?
She sat up and curled her legs into her chest under the blankets.
He walked around to the side of the bed and handed her a cup of coffee. The dark, bitterness drifted toward her, awakening her muddled senses.
Sergei dropped her backpack onto the bed. “Time to make plan. Company is coming for dinner.” He seemed all business this afternoon and less the demanding lover of a few hours ago.
“How do you know?”
“No vay to really explain. I just know.”
She wasn’t about to question his sixth sense. He’d known she was behind him when she’d snuck up on him yesterday. Had that really only been yesterday? In a mere twenty-four hours her whole life had changed, changed so much she didn’t know what was up or down...or who to trust. So instead, she took a sip of coffee and swallowed.
Not only could he make love to a woman until she was ready to reveal state secrets, his coffee was sinfully addictive.