So close . . . So close . . . She was almost there. Tears of frustration clouded her eyes as she suddenly feared she might never climax again.
“You are mine, forever, kiska. Bound to me always,” Dimitri growled.
It was that possessive promise that sent her over the edge. She gasped, too overcome to scream as a tidal wave of ecstasy ripped through her, devastating her. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed against the glass of the window. Dimitri held her up, his fingers still inside her, but gentle now as he drew out her orgasm, encouraging little aftershocks that made her body twitch with pleasure until she sagged in his hold. Then she was lifted up in his arms and carried to the bed. Dazed, she lay still as he unbound her hands and massaged her wrists.
He pulled back the comforter and tucked her beneath the blankets. She was cocooned in heat and decadent softness, and suddenly it was too much. She began to cry in great, choking sobs. He joined her in the bed, curling her body into his, holding her as she rode the roller coaster of emotions until she was too tired to do anything more than peek up a few times and nuzzle her face against his chest.
“You’ve been very brave tonight, kiska. Those are tears of joy. You have regained your desire and pleasure tonight. You did that. Do you understand?”
She nodded, too tired to speak, but he was right. Her tears were ones of relief and joy. She was no longer Vadym’s captive. Her body was becoming her own again.
Viktor Ivanoff checked the zippers of his black wet suit. He sat on the edge of a small motorboat that was anchored half a mile out to sea from the shore that faced a row of expensive Malibu beach houses. He checked his watch. It was nearly midnight. He would wait a little longer and then go ashore.
His burner phone vibrated on the seat beside him. He picked it up.
“Yes?”
“The photo you sent didn’t come back with any matches.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. The woman must have met him in Moscow. She was one of Vadym Andreikiv’s little whores. You know how those women are. She probably moved on to the next man after Vadym was killed.”
Viktor was familiar with Vadym’s file. After his mysterious poisoning, the Kremlin had wondered if it might be related to a string of disappearances of several Russian mob bosses in the last six months. The only thing that set Vadym apart was the public nature of his death. The other men had simply vanished, leaving their operations in disarray. His right-hand man, Jov Tomenko, had gone mad and shot at some Americans as they fled toward the US embassy in Mongolia, which had in turn gotten him shot by US Marines. But Vadym had other underlings who would have taken Elena Allen and killed her when they were done with her. Yet somehow, she had escaped and left the country. Was this why she was Viktor’s new target? Had she seen or heard something she shouldn’t have while sleeping with Vadym?
Viktor had been trained never to ask questions, but this mission bothered him. He had no qualms about killing the woman, but he didn’t like it when he sensed a bigger issue was at play and he wasn’t informed about it.
“Finish her and send a report, then return to Moscow.”
Viktor hung up, placed the phone inside his wet suit in a waterproof pocket, then picked up his air tank, scuba mask, and fins. When he was ready, he fell backward over the side of his boat and sank into the dark water and headed for shore.
Dimitri held Elena in his arms for a long while. She slept as though she would rest for a thousand years, and for that, he was glad. Tonight she had proven she had a soul that darkness could not conquer. The small flame had grown to a healthy fire, but there was still a long road ahead to bring back her inferno.
Yet he had hope. She had come so far in only a few days, farther than he’d imagined. However, he would have to be careful not to push her too hard or too fast. Any misstep had the possibility of sending her crashing back down. That was the last thing either of them wanted.
He pressed his lips to her cheek and closed his eyes. He tried not to think about his own reaction tonight. He had claimed her, she was his forever, but could she handle forever with a man like him? Playing these games to become comfortable in her own skin again was one thing, but sharing her life with a man who had dark desires and a darker future . . . that would be too much for any woman. It was why he had never settled down. If he dared to love a woman enough to marry her, to build a life with her, he would only ever subject her to a life of lies and danger. She would never truly be safe. This life had killed his parents. He couldn’t let it claim the life of a woman he loved. Yet, even knowing that, he couldn’t help but crave a different life, one he could share with Elena.
It was well past midnight when he felt the urge to relieve himself. He kissed Elena on the forehead and slipped out of bed. After using the restroom, he walked back into the room and stared for a moment at the moonlit sea. He couldn’t shake the restless feeling inside him. Was he being paranoid? Maybe it was only because someone like Viktor Ivanoff was here. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Too much had happened in his life to make believe that things like this just happened.
He turned back toward the bed where Elena slept, and his heart clenched in his chest. It was madness to want her, to crave
