WILD MEN OF ALASKA

chapter FOURTEEN

The action of the quilt pooling at her feet, knocked the air out of him, and his heart thumped hard enough in his chest to fell a lesser man. She was glorious, standing proud and naked before him.

Strong, curved, and battle-bruised.

Some of those bruises came from fighting with him. How many—seen and unseen—would there be by the time things were resolved between them?

“I vant more than tonight,” he said.

“How much do you want?”

If he said everything, she’d run. She was like a skittish wolf venturing carefully into uncharted territory.

“I have vaited a long time for you to come for me, Katja.” He stepped close enough to touch her, his voice lowering with intent. “I vant you for as long as you are villing to let me keep you.” He had to give her the choice to stay...or go. But if she chose to leave, he didn’t know if he had it in him to let her.

“We aren’t the best fit, you and I.”

His brow cocked. “I disagree. Ve fit very vell together.” His fingertips grazed the tips of her breasts, the nipples pebble-hard, and then traced the faint lines marring her body. Many knife scars criss-crossed her arms, and a bullet wound creased her shoulder. He wanted to hear each and every battle. Wanted to kill every person who had caused her pain.

She shivered under his hands. “Not what I meant. Two spies? How would that work?”

“One retired spy and one soon to be retired, I hope. Ve understand each other. And you can hold your own against me. I find that extremely attractive.”

He took her hand in his, kissed her fingers. “Come to bed vith me, Katja. Let me show you just how vell ve fit together.”

She let him lead her to the bed. He turned down the covers. It wasn’t lost on him the difference between having her on his bed like this from just a few hours ago fighting with her, tying her up. Leaving her. He wasn’t leaving her tonight. They were snowed in. No one could get in or out of The Edge of Reason.

Finally, they had time.

She lay on the bed.

“Stay.” He turned and stoked the fire, lit the candles on the mantle, and snuffed the lights. The glow from the snow, along with the fire, illuminated her ivory skin and turned her hair a darker red. She was stunning, lying on his bed, waiting for him. He had a moment wondering if he’d conjured her. So many nights he’d dreamt of having her here with him. It was hard to believe she was real. Their coming together downstairs, while it had rocked him, it had been frantic and over much too soon.

Tonight would not be the same.

He stripped bare in front of her, loving the way her eyes followed his movements, her breath quickening in the silent room. Only the moaning of the wind and flickering of the greedy flames added a wildness that complimented her the way no other music could.

He crawled onto the bed, up her body and settled his weight on top of her. The pleasure of her bare skin against his caused bliss to settle in his bones. The feeling was one so foreign, emotion thickened his vocal cords. Afraid of what declarations might come from his mouth—declarations she wasn’t ready to hear—he kissed her, expressing physically how he felt.

She groaned under him, her hands grasping his hips. He shifted his lower body away from her. The woman had a way of taking him in hand and getting him to lose control, like she had downstairs. That was not happening here.

Here, he was in charge.

She raked her nails up his back and then down to his buttocks, and his whole body hardened under her hands.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t in charge.

His mouth turned greedier even though he did his best to slow things down. He deepened the kiss, while his hands stroked her, trying to be careful, his touch tender, exploring. She arched under him, her leg anchoring over his hip as she pressed against him.

Bozhe moi. How did she fire his blood like this?

His hands rougher than he intended, yanked her hips against his, his shaft riding between her thighs along her slick folds, rubbing the sensitive area that had her wrenching her mouth free on a cry, and sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

He refused to enter her. Not yet.

“Sergei.”

How he loved a demanding woman.

His mouth captured the nipple of one breast, his fingers the other as he continued to grind against her.

She growled, losing patience with him, and tossed him over onto his back. The strength it took for her to be able to move a man like him, one who had expected her to make the move, so astonished him that he lay there on his back stunned for a moment.

A moment that was his undoing.

She straddled his thighs. He could see where they would have control issues. They both liked dominant positions. This was going to be fun.

And torture.

Retribution shined in her eyes as her hands teased their way down his body, her mouth following in their wake as she licked and nipped at his chest, his nipples, down the contours of his stomach, to grasp the base of his shaft in her hand.

Her tongue circled the tip.

He snarled, watching her as she took him in her mouth. Heat infused him, and colors painted the room. She knew what he liked, how to run her teeth, her tongue, enclose her lips over his flesh to where if he didn’t get her to stop he’d lose himself right then and there.

He had more planned for them.

He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her off him. She gave a startled cry as he tossed her onto her stomach, and 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 *oris.

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.