her
crotch against the huge erection that throbbed against it.
“You must beg for me. Is a rule.”
She bit her lip. Beg for it? Coco Fiori did not beg anyone
for anything, not even this steaming hunk of enemy muscle. If she played his
little games and let him have his way with her in exchange for information,
then she was no better than some CIA tramp with GS-1 security clearance. But if
she gave in to her own desires—her keening need to feel those lips on hers
again, the hand on her breast and whatever monster he was concealing beneath
the ridiculous one-legged jeans deep inside her aching pussy—then she was ¼ what? A slut and a lousy agent besides. She
had already fouled up every single one of her precious rules on this case
except the not-dying part. What little power she had was the power to make him
desire her, and if it was strong enough, she might have the pleasure of firebombing
his to-do list as well.
“Never.”
“Little bird with the hard head,” he said. “Say that again.”
Oh god, he had begun to push her down with his loins and
rock his hips against her, each stroke of his bulging erection inflaming her
more. The tough denim rubbed against her clit, over and over, like a long,
rough lick. She opened her legs wider and brought up her knees to intensify the
pressure.
“Oh fuck ¼ ”
He took a fistful of her hair. “One more word,” he said
hoarsely. “Fuck plus one more word. Say it. Say ‘Fuck me’.”
She was so close to coming, her body felt as if it were made
of warm water, with a fierce wave cresting at its center. His hand drifted to
her crotch and a tumble of new sensations played across her pussy—his big
knuckles probing as he slid two fingers inside her slick opening, pulling the
panties aside. She let out a gasp of shock, but her traitorous body welcomed
the invasion, clenching around the invading digits. Her head thrashed from side
to side as she rocked with his thrusting fingers.
“Mmm, fuck ¼ Fuck
you!”
He did not stop, but rather chuckled in her ear, his breath
stirring her hair.
“Strong Amerikanski spy, yes? Modern woman. No man will own
you.”
“That’s right,” she gritted between her teeth. Oh god, he
pulled out and applied his wet fingers to her clit, rubbing it with a hard,
circular motion. Her plump, slick button pulsed under his talented fingers. The
wave rose, teetered at the top and when he lowered his lips to hers again, she
exploded in a shower of dizzying sparks, her cries muffled by his mouth.
Ripples of pleasure reverberated through her body, each a
little less strong than the one before. The room swam into focus—Alexi on top
of her, brushing a hair away from her eyes, the dark-gold wood of the walls, a
jovial painted rooster glinting from the mantelpiece as if nothing at all had
happened. As if she hadn’t just made the most foolish and dangerous mistake of
her career.
“Oh god,” she moaned. “What have I done?”
“ Nyet . I ask questions now.”
Chapter Seven
Cigarette smoke made her blink. Alexi had cuffed her by
wrist and ankle to the smooth wooden posts of the bed then loped into the dark
maw of the cabin. When he returned he wore only a towel wrapped around his
waist. He ran a hand through his wet hair and now sat on the edge of the bed, a
strip of fresh gauze around his thigh, smoking contemplatively. His body was
hard, bronzed and beautiful, every inch of it.
Alexi blew out a stream of smoke, squinting into the
firelight. He seemed to be a million miles away.
Think, she told herself. There has to be a way out
of this. Quickly but with precision, her mind scrolled through a list of
advantages and disadvantages to her situation. On the minus side—cuffed to a
bed, van keys, cell phone and weapons out of her control, miles from anyone,
unfamiliar landscape. On the plus side ¼
Well, that was a nonstarter. Alexi hadn’t moved except to
bring the cigarette to his mouth. He’d lit a fire and its colors danced over
his
crotch against the huge erection that throbbed against it.
“You must beg for me. Is a rule.”
She bit her lip. Beg for it? Coco Fiori did not beg anyone
for anything, not even this steaming hunk of enemy muscle. If she played his
little games and let him have his way with her in exchange for information,
then she was no better than some CIA tramp with GS-1 security clearance. But if
she gave in to her own desires—her keening need to feel those lips on hers
again, the hand on her breast and whatever monster he was concealing beneath
the ridiculous one-legged jeans deep inside her aching pussy—then she was ¼ what? A slut and a lousy agent besides. She
had already fouled up every single one of her precious rules on this case
except the not-dying part. What little power she had was the power to make him
desire her, and if it was strong enough, she might have the pleasure of firebombing
his to-do list as well.
“Never.”
“Little bird with the hard head,” he said. “Say that again.”
Oh god, he had begun to push her down with his loins and
rock his hips against her, each stroke of his bulging erection inflaming her
more. The tough denim rubbed against her clit, over and over, like a long,
rough lick. She opened her legs wider and brought up her knees to intensify the
pressure.
“Oh fuck ¼ ”
He took a fistful of her hair. “One more word,” he said
hoarsely. “Fuck plus one more word. Say it. Say ‘Fuck me’.”
She was so close to coming, her body felt as if it were made
of warm water, with a fierce wave cresting at its center. His hand drifted to
her crotch and a tumble of new sensations played across her pussy—his big
knuckles probing as he slid two fingers inside her slick opening, pulling the
panties aside. She let out a gasp of shock, but her traitorous body welcomed
the invasion, clenching around the invading digits. Her head thrashed from side
to side as she rocked with his thrusting fingers.
“Mmm, fuck ¼ Fuck
you!”
He did not stop, but rather chuckled in her ear, his breath
stirring her hair.
“Strong Amerikanski spy, yes? Modern woman. No man will own
you.”
“That’s right,” she gritted between her teeth. Oh god, he
pulled out and applied his wet fingers to her clit, rubbing it with a hard,
circular motion. Her plump, slick button pulsed under his talented fingers. The
wave rose, teetered at the top and when he lowered his lips to hers again, she
exploded in a shower of dizzying sparks, her cries muffled by his mouth.
Ripples of pleasure reverberated through her body, each a
little less strong than the one before. The room swam into focus—Alexi on top
of her, brushing a hair away from her eyes, the dark-gold wood of the walls, a
jovial painted rooster glinting from the mantelpiece as if nothing at all had
happened. As if she hadn’t just made the most foolish and dangerous mistake of
her career.
“Oh god,” she moaned. “What have I done?”
“ Nyet . I ask questions now.”
Chapter Seven
Cigarette smoke made her blink. Alexi had cuffed her by
wrist and ankle to the smooth wooden posts of the bed then loped into the dark
maw of the cabin. When he returned he wore only a towel wrapped around his
waist. He ran a hand through his wet hair and now sat on the edge of the bed, a
strip of fresh gauze around his thigh, smoking contemplatively. His body was
hard, bronzed and beautiful, every inch of it.
Alexi blew out a stream of smoke, squinting into the
firelight. He seemed to be a million miles away.
Think, she told herself. There has to be a way out
of this. Quickly but with precision, her mind scrolled through a list of
advantages and disadvantages to her situation. On the minus side—cuffed to a
bed, van keys, cell phone and weapons out of her control, miles from anyone,
unfamiliar landscape. On the plus side ¼
Well, that was a nonstarter. Alexi hadn’t moved except to
bring the cigarette to his mouth. He’d lit a fire and its colors danced over
his
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