Kissing The Enemy (20 page)

The top of it was already over my head, trapping me in a cocoon of warmth, thin enough that it was translucent but thick enough that it mostly blindfolded me. I could see the brightness of the snow around us and the huge, dark shape of him in front of me, but not details. I didn’t need to see him to know where he was looking, though. I could feel his eyes eating me up, devouring my breasts as they gradually appeared. The icy air blew across my naked back and over my breasts, my nipples throbbing and ultra-sensitive, every little gust of wind magnified a thousand fold.

The dark shape in front of me leaned forward and I squealed as a hot mouth enveloped one breast. The heat of his tongue after the freezing air was shocking, oven-hot and slickly wet. I had to press my thighs hard together, my ass describing an “S” in the air as I swayed and ground, the heat rising and building inside me.

Then the sweater was tugged up and off me, falling to the ground with my bra tangled within it. My hair fell around my shoulders, strands tickling against my bare skin. I let out a long breath, forming a soft cloud of vapor in the air between us.

He put his hands on my waist and ran them up and down my sides, the heels of his hands just brushing the sides of my breasts—it was as if he was teasing himself, drawing out the moment before he’d take them in his hands again. Those brown and amber eyes were burning, now, his gaze a scalding trail across my skin. He let a long, shuddering gasp of lust, the white cloud it left mixing with mine. Finally, when he couldn’t bear it any longer, he filled his hands with my breasts and pulled me close, squeezing rhythmically, his thumbs brushing across my nipples as he kissed me hard and deep.

The wind picked up, freezing one side of my body. I pressed myself hard against him, letting the warmth of him soak into me through his clothes. My hands wound around his back and slid up under his jacket and sweater, tracing the hard lines of his muscles. I started to ease his jacket down his arms and off even as he unzipped my skirt. Both of us were frantic, now, needing to feel each other’s bodies. His jacket hit the snow and then, a second later, my skirt fell around my feet.

I lifted his sweater and t-shirt up and over his head, kissing my way up his exposed chest an inch behind the rising hem. The hardness of his abs against the softness of my lips made me crazy, the heat inside me twisting, becoming tight and frantic. I kissed up his centerline, over smooth tan skin and then up to the dark ink of the angel wings tattoo, lips tracing first one broad, curved pec and then the other, my hands sliding around his shoulders.

The heat of him blazed across the space that separated us, searing away the cold. I crushed my body to his, me soft and cold and him iron hard and throbbing with warmth, and it was the best thing I’d felt in my life. He wrapped his arms around my naked back and I knew I’d never want to be cold or numb again.

His hands slid under the waistband of my leggings and panties and palmed my ass, then started rolling the fabric down my thighs. I caught my breath as the wind whipped across my exposed sex, but the cold only made the heat inside pulse faster and hotter. My hands found the belt of his jeans and I tugged the buckle open. His cock strained against the heavy fabric and then tented his jockey shorts as his jeans fell. I ran the tips of my fingers over it and saw it twitch, thick and hard and fiercely hot. I was panting, now. I needed that heat inside me.

I kicked off my shoes, stepping back onto my coat and then stripping my leggings the rest of the way off. I was naked, except for the necklace he’d given me.

“I said I’d fuck you, with you wearing just that,” he murmured, brushing it with his fingers. He pushed down his jockey shorts and his cock sprang free, gorgeous and brutal, the silken head pointing at the sky. He drew it down so that it pointed right at the soft curls of blonde hair between my thighs. “Now I’m going to.”

I didn’t so much
lie down
as
sink
, my knees buckling at the thought of what we were going to do. He stood there naked, legs braced a little way apart, the cold wind whipping across his tattooed chest, his tan skin beautiful against the snow. I lay on my back, the outspread coat my only protection against the snow. And yet despite the freezing ground and the cold wind, I wasn’t shivering. The heat inside me was now furnace-bright and expanding fast. I lifted my knees and stepped my feet apart, welcoming him in, and saw his cock twitch in response.

He knelt between my thighs, retrieved a condom from his pants and rolled it on, and then his hips were spreading my legs. The thick head of him brushed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs once, twice...and then it kissed up against the lips of my sex. God, I hadn’t realized how wet I was. My breath started to come in quick little pants, the clouds of mist breaking against his chest as he lowered himself atop me, his hard body burning hot against mine.

He kissed me on the lips once, then started to kiss down my neck and across my shoulder, his tongue quick and expert on my collarbone. He kissed me with that perfect blend of care and roughness. I was a princess to be worshipped...but a princess he was going to damn well ravish and make
his.
I moved beneath him, flexing and twisting, rubbing my body against his like a cat. The hard ridges of his abs stroked along my stomach, the deep diagonal lines of his Adonis belt stroking at the tops of my thighs. With every breath I took, my chest touched his: soft, sinful breast and nipple grazing sculpted pec and heavenly angel feathers. And then I felt the head of his cock stroking, pushing, spreading me wide….

My eyes fluttered open and I stared up into a white sky as he slid into me, my arms coming up to clasp around his shoulders. My ass come up off the coat, my back arching as he stretched me just right...and then my head tilted back, chin pointed at the sky, as he filled me in a hot rush. The heat of him met my own twisting, aching need and we combined and blazed even hotter. I heard him groan in satisfaction. “Jesus,” he whispered, his lips at my ear. “Jesus, Irina, you feel so good.”

He began to move, stroking slowly out of me, and the feel of him against my satiny walls made me dig my toes hard into the smooth lining of my coat, the snow scrunching beneath it. I missed the heat and hardness of him inside me but I wanted that sweet friction, knew that in a second it would—

God!
He slammed back into me, even deeper than before, and my head came up, eyes locking with his. We kissed, hard and hot, as my hands explored his back.  He began to thrust, breaking the kiss and dipping his head to lick at my breasts, shoulders hunched like a beast, and I went wild, thrashing and gasping under him as his tongue lashed over my nipples.

The heat inside me was taking control of me, spreading out to my fingers and toes. I wrapped my legs around him, loving the feeling of his solid, muscled thighs against my heels. I grabbed his ass and immediately went weak as my fingers found the hot, solid power of him there, the tight muscles that would let him pound me for hours. The heat was folding in on itself, tightening, beginning to thrash and seek escape. And with Angelo, I didn’t have to keep it under control: I could let it out.

He raised himself up on his arms, biceps bulging, and I couldn’t stop myself running my hands all the way up his naked back and down his arms, melting inside as I swept my fingertips over the hard swells. The size of him made me feel small; the strength of him made me feel weak. For someone like me who’d been trying to be strong her whole life, there was no better feeling in the world.

He began to move faster and the heat inside grew too much to bear. I lifted my ass and began to shamelessly grind my hips in circles, both of us groaning as the liquid friction grew and changed. I felt Angelo’s body tense, a wicked smile teasing the corners of his lips: he loved to see me like this, loved to see me lose control for him.

My head began to toss from side to side, strands of hair falling across my face as I sucked in air through my nose, jaw set and teeth gritted. I was notching higher and higher, my toes dancing against my coat, my whole world narrowing down to the hard, hot thrust of him inside me. “
A—Angelo,”
I gasped, his name floating upward in a desperate little puff of mist.

He lowered his head and kissed my chin. “Irina,” he growled. My hands clawed at his back, my heels digging into his ass….

I felt it on my breasts first: an angel’s kiss, so soft I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. An instant of cold that only made the heat more real. I opened my eyes and saw my breast shining wetly, a drop of water running down my side.

Another soft kiss, this time on my other breast, and this time I was in time to see the snowflake melt against my heated skin. I looked around: snow was falling all around us, flakes hitting Angelo’s muscled back and turning instantly to jewels of water. Even when the wind whipped across our bodies and flakes dusted our sides, it didn’t stop us. The cold only made the heat inside more intense. The orgasm was building and tightening inside me. I was bucking and twisting under him, the sweat standing out on my forehead. We were both so close—

He suddenly leaned back and stared right into my eyes and the look I saw there sent me over the edge. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust, drinking in the sight of me. I was his ice princess and he’d reduced me from imperious and frozen to a melted, gasping wreck. He was my hot-headed, black-hearted gangster, driven by blood and fire, and yet I’d put him under my spell.

He owned me. And I owned him.

He thrust into me,
deep
and I saw his ass clench as I felt the first hot explosion inside me. My own climax tightened into a blazing, white-hot ball...and detonated, making me bury my face against his shoulder and shout in Russian, my lips moving against his skin. I was clenching and spasming around him, shouting and shouting—

He bit at my earlobe, nuzzling there.
“Don’t stop,”
I repeated in English, all shyness gone.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop—”

He didn’t, burying himself in me again and again as he shot and shot, and my orgasm stretched out and out, waves of it crashing through me, until I finally wrapped him in my arms and legs and lay still, chest heaving. We lay there for long minutes, the snow covering his muscled back first with a sheen of water and then, as he cooled, with a dusting of white.

We dressed, stopping every few garments to kiss. When I lifted my coat, the snow beneath it was gone—our heat had melted it, right down to the grass below. Even now, I didn’t feel cold. We were both warmed from the inside out, by what we’d done and by the possibilities ahead. It didn’t matter that the odds were against us. The odds had been against us right from the start. What mattered was that we were going to face them together and head on.

Angelo called Rico, who said he’d come and pick us up. The plan was for him and Angelo to drop me back in the city, a good distance from my house, and then I’d get a cab home. I’d find Mikhail and Yuri and explain that I’d attempted to run away, but had decided my place was with my family. I wouldn’t mention Angelo. Then I’d start trying to talk Vasiliy into agreeing a ceasefire. Meanwhile, Angelo would try to calm things with the
Cosa Nostra
.

Angelo pushed my hair back from my face and kissed me again as we waited. “I don’t want to do this,” he muttered. “I just got you again. I don’t want to give you up.”

“We’ll be together soon,” I promised him.

Moments later, Rico came over the top of the rise. He stood there for a second staring down at us...at
me. Does he hate me?
In his eyes, I’d taken his best friend from him….

He started down the slope towards us, shaking his head softly. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asked Angelo as he drew close. Then he nodded to me, polite but cautious.

I grabbed his hand. “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t just mean for picking us up. Angelo was going to need his help if we were going to pull this off.

Rico shrugged. “Yeah,” he muttered, “Well—”

There was a metallic
click
and we all turned to look.

Yuri was marching down the slope, his gun leveled right at us.

I
figured
it out pretty fast. Yuri was a master at tracking people down and he’d do anything to protect me. When I hadn’t come down for my room, he would have come upstairs and found me gone. And with no way to follow
me,
he’d done the next best thing. Realizing that I’d be meeting Angelo, he’d hunted him...and when he too couldn’t be found, he’d hunted down his right-hand man, Rico, then followed him here.

Yuri was almost at the bottom of the slope, now, maybe twenty feet from us. “Irina,” he said sadly, “move away from him.”

Instead, I moved around in front of Angelo. I wasn’t sure what orders Yuri had been given—was he just here to get me back, or would he kill Angelo as soon as he had a clear shot? I wasn’t taking the chance. “No!”

At that moment, Rico yelled and threw himself at Yuri. The two of them crashed down into the snow, Yuri’s gun flying out of his hand. They tumbled over and over, battling for dominance. I could see Rico had the youth and strength, but Yuri had decades of training, some of it with Russia’s
Spetsnaz
special forces. He slammed his fist into Rico’s kidneys, then headbutted him and threw him off. Before Rico could get to his feet, Yuri was standing over him drawing a vicious-looking knife.

That launched Angelo into action. He charged Yuri from the side and knocked him to the ground again, the two of them sending up showers of snow as they landed. My chest went tight: I didn’t want anything to happen to Angelo but Yuri was like a brother to me. “
Stop!”
I yelled.

But they didn’t. Yuri got to his feet, crouched over in a fighting pose. Angelo ran at him again and Yuri was forced back, slashing with the knife to keep Angelo at bay, the blade flashing in the painfully-bright sunlight. By now, Rico was back on his feet and the two of them moved in together, inching Yuri back towards the slope.

“
Stop!”
I yelled again. Angelo glanced quickly back at me and Yuri used the distraction to spring at him. Angelo barely jumped back in time and then, with a growl, he charged Yuri and grabbed his knife hand, forcing it up and away from him. Yuri staggered back, hit the bottom of the slope and fell, dragging Angelo down with him—

And suddenly everything was still and silent. Yuri lay on his back on the slope. Angelo straddled him, panting hard.

I ran over. Yuri seemed to have given up: he was staring up at Angelo in dismay, his face pale. Angelo had gone almost as white, looking down at his hands in horror.

Then I followed Angelo’s gaze and saw the knife, buried to the hilt in Yuri’s heart.