Red Alpha: A BWWM Russian Alpha Billionaire Romance (20 page)

Demyan didn’t hesitate. He sheathed himself in her clenching warmth so she gasped, bracing one hand against the mirror at her back as the other arm wound around his neck. Her eyes started to slide closed as she relished the way he filled her – the
rightness
of his throbbing heat within her.

“
Nyet, kukla
.” She gasped as the man’s thumb found the small bud of pleasure above where they were joined to circle torturously, and her eyes flew open. She found Demyan staring at her intently, his expression enraptured. “Look here.
Look at me
.”

He withdrew briefly to thrust back into her, his gaze never leaving hers, and she cried out, her voice trembling. “Yes.
Yes…like that
.” Cupping her face in a large palm, Demyan braced her hip with his other hand as he worked himself into her. Unlike their usual frenzied coupling, this was slower –
deeper
. Every thrust felt as if it would be her undoing and Cadence wanted to beg him to go faster and never to stop all at once.

Her lips parted in wordless sounds of pleasure as Demyan took her leisurely. It was too much…
too good
. “
Demyan!
” He caught her cry against his own mouth as he pressed her hips firmly against the tile counter each time he penetrated her. “
God, Demyan…”

“Cadence...” Her name rumbled low in his throat. “
My
Cadence…
Come for me
.” His fingers found her clit once more and she gasped, arching into his delicious caress. “Right
there…
just like that…”

When the Russian man lifted one of her legs over an elbow to change the angle of his thrusts, hitting a spot that had her all but delirious, Cadence came apart in a thousand glorious pieces, each one emblazoned with her lover’s name.

Demyan released inside her in a warm gush, his throaty groan making her shudder as his hips jerked against hers.

In that moment, Cadence found herself wildly, covetously, hoping that his seed took root so that she’d have some memory of his when they were separated.

But she knew that could never be.

She would have to take this moment, and every precious one they could steal thereafter, and hope it was enough.

**

This was going to be more difficult than he had imagined.

They were finally on the train to Berlin, and Demyan found himself lamenting that he and Cadence would almost certainly be parting ways in less than seventy two hours.

She slept slumped against his shoulder, the tension eased from her body for what had to be the first time in days. Clutching her close to him, Demyan wondered if telling her about her sister had been the right thing to do. The moment she said something about an American killed years before in Kiev, he’d known.

To this day, he wasn’t sure how Osip had been able to cover that one up. The US government had been livid - and, to Demyan’s reckoning, it was blatantly obvious that the woman hadn’t died in a car accident. Her body had been far too badly mangled.

The fury in Cadence’s eyes when he told her...he had fully believed that she might fly from the room in an attempt to confront Roksana had he not restrained her. In his lifetime, Demyan had seen the powerful figures around him fly into blind rages at the drop of a hat, but what Cadence displayed had been something else entirely. Her anger mingled with grief – soul deep and jarring. It was something he himself knew well. An emotion that led people to take idiotic action.

For her sake, he hoped they didn’t encounter Lichakov again. As much faith as he had in Cadence’s fighting abilities, he didn’t know how much good they’d do her if she was running on pure adrenaline.

It was funny, he considered, watching the deep, even rhythm of Cadence’s breath, how similar they were. Brought up worlds apart in completely different environments and still fighting the same demons.

She was just as human as he himself…a detail that forced him to remember that beneath the outer shell he’d built around himself, there was still someone very vulnerable inside.

A large part of him wanted to grieve for what he’d lost – to sequester himself and release years of guilt and pain. But that, he knew, would do him no good at this juncture. He’d been strong for years. What was a few more days?

For now, perhaps he could pretend that Cadence and he were on holiday together –that ultimately, they would reach a breathtaking destination and spend their days in bed dining on delicacies and one another.

It was a lovely fantasy. One that might carry him through the rest of his days, if he clung to it tightly enough.

Berlin would be their last opportunity to rest for a while. From there, they would travel straight through the Netherlands and across the English Channel to the U.K. The American Embassy in London would then shelter them for long enough to arrange their transport back to the US.

And then their adventure would be over.

Dimly, he wondered how far behind them Osip was. It couldn’t have taken long for the man to discover what happened to Veta. The penthouse staff would be in an uproar over a dead body, and then there might have been only a few hours before Lichakov arrived.

She was vicious and she was crafty. Demyan only hoped that they had enough of a head start that she wouldn’t be able to thwart them. As of that particular moment, all they had on their side was luck.

In increments, the train began to slow as a voice announced first in German and then in English that they were a mere thirty minutes from their destination. On a whim, Demyan wondered how much of the cash he’d brought it would take to book a lavish hotel suite for the single night they had left. To enjoy their last remaining hours.

He had never been a romantic, but then again, he’d never met a woman quite as unique as Cadence Freedman. While he might have originally doubted her abilities, now, he was forced to admit that her government had chosen well when they’d given her this particular assignment. The decisions she made might save both of their lives, as well as thousands of innocents besides.

Not bad…for an American.

When they arrived at their destination, he woke her gently. To her merit, Cadence returned to alertness quickly, her hand immediately going to the concealed Glock at her hip. When she realized it was just Demyan, however, a lazy smile spread across her full mouth. “Have you been awake this whole time?”

He chuckled lowly, rising to help her up as well. “Someone has to keep watch. You were the first to fall asleep.”

Cadence reddened slightly. “I blame you for keeping me up half the night.”

He smirked, his body stirring at the mere memory. “I haven’t a single regret.” He grabbed each of their bags from the overhead compartments where they’d been stored, wondering how quickly they could make it to the nearest decent hotel.

“Demyan.” He paused when she called his name, glancing over his shoulder to meet her gaze. Cadence seemed to hesitate for a brief moment before speaking again. “When all of this is over with…maybe we could…I don’t know…” She struggled visibly to find the words and his stomach twisted at her implication.

The smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe.”

After all of this was over, Demyan planned to get as far away from Cadence as he possibly could. Certainly, the US would protect him to the best of their ability. He might be granted US citizenship and, if they saw their way to it, he could be exonerated for the crimes he had committed.

But Osip would never forget…and he certainly wouldn’t forgive.

Cadence’s profession provided quite enough danger for her without a furious and very well-connected Prime Minister out for her blood. The further from him she was, the less danger she would be in.

And that, after years of suffering, would truly make Demyan happy.

They disembarked the train where he left Cadence sitting on a bench with their bags while he made his way to an information desk to make arrangements for them. He bought tickets to Amsterdam and greased a few palms to ensure that the clerks forgot their faces and where they were headed.

When he slid the documents into his pocket, he touched the concealed shape of the little black book – Osip’s demise and his salvation.

It would soon be where it belonged.

With a small smile, he made his way back through the crowds of the station to search for Cadence. Her dark, curly hair would be unmistakable, he knew, even among the more diverse crowds in Berlin. He swallowed his anticipation to get her alone so he could run his fingers through it…thoroughly memorizing the way she felt against him.

For the last time.

When he reached the bench where he’d left her, however, the Russian man froze.

Cadence was nowhere to be found.

Instead, sitting in her place, was a stunningly attractive blonde. At his arrival, she raised her head and coldly victorious blue eyes locked with his.

Demyan’s blood ran cold as Roksana Lichakov smiled.

“
Zdravstvuyte,
comrade. I’ve missed you.”

“What have you done with her?” When Demyan spoke, his tone was low and dangerous, his hands curled into tight fists.

Lichakov’s nauseating smile only widened. She was dressed very poshly – in a white fur hat, expensive leather pants and a fur coat that probably cost Osip a small fortune. She always like to travel in style. “Come now, Demyan. Give me a little credit. Twenty minutes is pittance for what I’d
like
to do to the little bitch.” Her smile remained saccharine sweet as she continued. “And for you…you, Demyan, darling we’re going to have
days
of fun together.”

“Or… I could just shoot you between the eyes.” Demyan returned dryly, his heart in his throat. He hadn’t been gone for long. What on earth could Lichakov had gotten up to in such a short period of time?

“You could.” The blonde nodded, feigning thoughtfulness. “Then, of course, you’ll never find out what I did with the American…and I very much doubt that whatever deal you’ve made with
their
government would stand if she died like a dog in the dirt.”

The Russian man’s stomach twisted with nausea.

He was trapped.

Certainly, the best course of action would be to kill Lichakov and take his chances. Such an action would, of course, alert the entire station to his presence and brand him a German criminal. Even with all his skill, he doubted that he’d last a day.

And Cadence would almost certainly perish. In fact, there was no evidence that Lichakov hadn’t already killed her; none except that notion that the woman would far rather relish in the slow death of a victim than grant them any sort of mercy.

“We can’t do this here.” He finally replied slowly.

There were hundreds of people around them, each and every one going about their own lives, heedless of the danger in their midst. Demyan very much doubted that Lichakov had come alone. If he had to guess, he would suppose that Osip had lent her the Yenotovs – which only made his situation all the grimmer.

“Are you sure?” Casually, Roksana pulled a compact from the small leather bag she carried to powder her face ostentatiously. “It could be fun.”

“
Not here
.” Demyan repeated firmly.

“Hm.” The blonde woman’s compact snapped shut a moment before she stood, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her massive coat. “Lead the way, then.”

And where the hell was
he
supposed to go? He hadn’t even booked any accommodations for Cadence and himself. Now he was going to have to find somewhere to conduct this unsavory business with Lichakov. No doubt she wanted to gloat and break a few fingers before catching the next train back east.

Osip would be impatient.

As Demyan turned to lead the bloodthirsty Russian through the station, his mind whirled. He needed to find out what had happened to Cadence and some way to dispose of Roksana. She would hardly make things easy, he knew. For the time being, she held all the cards.

If he were the monster everyone thought he was, he would simply strangle her once they were alone and be done with it. It might give him a decent chance at escape.

But he didn’t plan on leaving without Cadence. Not after all she had risked to get him out. She deserved better than that.

“Come,” he barked, striding towards the station exit. He’d only been in Berlin a handful of times before, and then, of course, he had only stayed at the highest rated five star establishments. Lichakov wouldn’t want to be noticed to such an extent. Whatever she wanted to do would be low profile.

Clutching his coat tightly to his throat, Demyan strode down the main road for about half a mile. He didn’t have to look back to make sure Roksana was following him. Losing her now would be harder than losing a dog when one was carrying a raw steak.

He passed a number of hotels with vacancies but didn’t stop until he found one that didn’t look like many tourists frequented it. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, noting lamely that it wasn’t much warmer than the frosty winter air outside.

The single woman manning the desk looked ancient and didn’t speak a single word of English. Between his meager German and Russian, they somehow managed to settle on a fourth floor room for the night for he and his
wife –
that particular title made him bristle – before she handed over the key and he paid a ridiculous sum of cash.

The establishment was dingy and unkempt – making Lichakov’s rich accoutrement look terribly out of place. She, however, didn’t seem to mind. Her brilliant smile never faded – and for it, Demyan knew that his situation had to be pretty dire. Roksana shone brightest when she was hurting people. It was her one great passion in life.

The room was small, and a layer of dust on the furnishing proved there hadn’t been a tenant in a long while. Regardless, Roksana tossed her hat onto the dresser before sinking into a creaking armchair. Demyan merely stood before her, his expression sour. “Where is Cadence?”

Lichakov chuckled. “Single minded, aren’t you?” She slipped out of her coat to lay it over the back of the armchair. “I don’t think you’ve ever been obvious in your life, Boykov. Did you wait until
after
you found out what she was to start fucking her, or was she in your bed from the very beginning?”