Russian Heat (3 page)

“Reshitye.” You decide.

But she couldn’t. Sense warred with want and neither side would announce a truce.

Vlad
stroked her hip. “Poor Jane, such a decision to make. Slava, in the spirit of Glasnost we should help.”

Vlad
slid his palms down her body, bracketed her hips and pulled her closer against his hard chest and stiff cock. The hands around her pelvis drove an image like a spike through her brain of him gripping her hips as he pistoned into her from behind, balls slapping the back of her thighs.

She inhaled sharply and Slava cocked his dark head, one corner of his lips twisting up, waking the scar on his cheek. “Are her nipples hard under that top?”

She held her breath, anticipation coursing through her veins as Vlad’s hand slipped under her pullover, wandered up her ribs and sternum and then cupped her breast. Feather-light fingers, warm, bold and teasing, explored her peak through her bra.

“Like rivets,” Vlad said.

Slava
swallowed hard. “And her liha, is it wet?”

“Find out for yourself, friend.” The rumble of Vlad’s chuckle vibrated, smug against her back.

She sighed, the breathy echo whispering around the bathroom tiles a signal of soft assent.

 ~* * *~

Vlad
felt the change that shuddered through Jane as she sighed, her body coming to a decision her mind couldn’t make. Fisting her pullover and tee, he stripped them over her head, her muffled hiss as the cold hit her skin making his lips twitch.

Slava
stared at Jane’s slight form, expression rapt, and Vlad taunted him by cupping her breasts lightly through her thin bra, withholding removal of the fabric’s skimpy veil of white satin. He grinned as Slava growled, bear-like. But his grin faded as Jane arched her slight breasts into his hands, her response almost undoing him. A savage gratitude seized him, tinged with darkness. The hard edges at the brink of his persona announced their presence, sparking a burning need to make her scream, weep and moan with pleasure before the night was out, until she no longer connected sex with anything but what took place between the three of them.

“Tseliya
yeyo.” Kiss her, he told Slava.

When Slava didn’t speak or move, Vlad guessed demons from their army days had stopped by to remind Slava of his stint in Ingushetia, home of the girl who’d dumped him, claiming he was a sadist and a freak. The accusation sounded hollow to Vlad, considering the two long years she’d spent enjoying Slava’s cock, but Slava remained wary, afraid of hurting even the most willing of women. Vlad viewed it as a kind of sexual shell-shock.

Assuming command, he tugged the straps of Jane’s bra down her shoulders, the delicate material sandpaper compared to the satin of her skin. A burst of slaver welled in his mouth as her taut, upturned nipples crested over her bra cup, their full pink roundness exposed when her bra fell to the tiles in a sigh of fabric.

“Bozhe
moy, I could suck on those all day long.”

He made Slava watch, eyes hungry, as he pinched Jane’s fat nipples hard between his fingers. Her groan and the way she arched her back, grinding her ass against him, made his cock twitch with interest. That she liked a little rough handling confirmed her perfection, and his tongue thickened with need.

He cupped her jaw, turned her head to claim her mouth, taking in her hooded gaze, heavy and hungry. He would do anything to fan that hunger. Licking the seal of her lips, he rewarded her acceptance of his tongue with a hand between her thighs, hardening the kiss, the pressure edging towards punishment as she moaned in helpless capitulation, the sound getting him hard.

Her smothered mewl of pleasure had Vlad desperate to bury his face between her out-of-reach breasts, to lick the velvet skin covering her sternum, and mouth her pink nipples. Her small, firm breasts had stolen enough nights of sleep from him to deserve a little punishment, and he jammed hard fingers against the denim seam of her crotch in substitute revenge that had her begging for more.

With her breasts out of reach, he instead contented his mouth with the taste of her lips, neck and ears, her sweat and softness. Slava crept nearer, and Vlad released Jane from a deep kiss to watch the stealthy approach of Slava’s mouth, saw Jane peek down and hold her breath as a tongue reached for her plump, juicy nipple.

At the last moment Slava swerved away, a teasing smile on his lips, to bury his face between her breasts and take a deep draught of her skin. Vlad smiled. Slava was back. Bad as ever.

~* * *~

Pulling his face from between her breasts, Slava licked an obscene trail from sternum to nipple, letting his tongue glide over her torso until she was slick with his spit, applying wet lips to slide them around the globes of her breasts. She was better than ice cream on a hot summer day. Her breath hitched as his hand snaked up to feed more of her tiny breast into his hot mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the stiff, wet peak until she groaned, then nuzzling the other breast to start all over again. An alluring scent of arousal drifted up from between her thighs and he could almost picture her cunt clenching with need. Almost.

“Hold her firm,” he told Vlad, the unfulfilled need to taste her making him hoarse.

He waited while Vlad’s strong arms hooked around her, watched her expression closely but detected nothing more than mild surprise and curious arousal on her lovely, flushed face. Resting a hand on the top button of her jeans, he leaned in and flicked it undone as he tasted her mouth, giving himself something to compare the taste of her pussy with when that moment came.

His hand slid from the undone button to her zipper. Pulling back to look into her eyes, he cleared his throat. “Give me a taste, Jane.”

Her eyes grew big.

Unzipping her jeans, he let her fly teeth pop apart one by one, keeping her unveiling deliberate and slow as Vlad peered over her shoulder with avid interest. He froze as she pulled back with a small sound of protest. Vlad responded by sinking his teeth into the flesh where the soft curve between neck and shoulder met, the bite demanding she yield any and all resistance at once.

She stilled, grew passive under Vlad’s teeth, and Slava’s icy control gave way to a sea of fire. He yanked her jeans open wide, jerked them down, hands made rough by impatience. Dropping a hand to her panties, his gaze never faltered from hers as he burrowed his rough, scarred knuckles under the scrap of elastic and nylon hiding her hot mound. Finger resting on the seam of her lightly-haired lips, he stilled. “Yes?”

A hectic flush reddened her cheeks which deepened as he searched her gaze, but her blue eyes smouldered from beneath heavy lids. “Yes.”

Her husky tone was a fist in his guts sending hot lust licking along his spine down to his balls. If she’d looked or spoken to him like that even once during the past month, no matter where they’d been or how alone, she would have found herself flat on her back, his prick buried in her in a frenzy without finesse. Which would have been a pity. Just as well Vlad was here to restrain him, to take the edge off his barbarian urges so that everything could be savoured as it should—slow and thorough.

Curling his trigger finger to penetrate her pussy’s swollen lips, he leaned into her, mashing her breasts with his chest and grinding her hard against Vlad as he nuzzled her mouth, nipping her bottom lip when she wasn’t quick enough to open for him.

The hot channel of her mouth tasted of submission. His finger breached her soft folds and he groaned at the slick heat there, the way her thighs clenched together and her hips bucked. Scooping a serve of her pussy’s cream with his hooked fingers, he brought hand to mouth, fed his pussy-coated fingers between his lips and sucked the gleaming wetness.

“Bladodatyen.” Heaven-sent. At his words, Vlad’s nostrils flared, a riot of impatience flooding his face as the rutting urge took him hard.

But Slava needed to see her first.

Peeling her jeans lower he made a dark noise of satisfaction as her pale belly met his stare. The grubby denim jeans hid skin that was delicate perfection, almost translucent. Obviously her body hadn’t seen the Australian sun for quite some time.

Discarding her jeans, he ran a hand over the graceful sweep of her thighs, found her upper thigh fit perfectly into his palm. Handy to know. An angry pale blue scar marred one knee and he traced a finger over it. “Mad sheep?”

“Bike threw me.” Her voice was unsteady.

“Bad bike.” He kissed the scar, and then licked it.

She sucked in a breath, let it out in a sigh as he put the tip of one long finger on her navel and slowly ran it down her centre until it met the band of her cream panties. He hooked a finger over the elastic and let it hover there. He and Vlad had been thinking about this for so long, had replayed this moment of discovery almost a thousand times in their minds, in a hundred different ways.

But nothing compared to the real thing. With exquisite slowness he tugged, dropped to his knees and refused to look up from his hands as the fabric stretched and then descended over firm thighs, caught a little at the curve of her knees, then slid down effortlessly over small calves and ankles. Not until her panties rested in a pool of nylon at her feet did he look up.

Fine, reddish-gold curls feathered her mound, the coverage sparser over her lips where a small glistening trail of arousal clung to the slit of her labia. Having tasted her, he struggled not to bury his head between her legs there and then to gorge on the cream leaking through her folds.

Instead, gently insistent, he pushed her legs wider apart, licking his lips at the swollen pink flesh peeking between her folds, begging for his fingers, mouth and tongue. A potent waft of her sex teased him as he brought his face to her thigh, rubbed his cheek against its velvety softness, heart pounding as he struggled for control.

A million dark needs pulled at him. Her pussy on his face, wriggling her juices all over his chin as she moaned. Her hands tied, thighs slung over his shoulders as he pumped into her until froth covered her pussy and his balls. Her breasts, her thighs, her belly slathered in his come, his seed marking her as his, branding his ownership. Mine. His eyes shifted to Vlad’s arms around her. Ours. He wanted both his and Vlad’s sperm lashing her.

Burrowing his fingers deep into her channel, he gave a hiss of appreciation at her fierce heat, her tightness, and pressed his hand snug against her mound to plunge his fingers deeper inside her, his thumb butting her clit as his fingers filled the mouth of her pussy.

She was tight with need.

Tight, perfect, irresistible and all theirs.

~* * *~

Jane drew in a ragged breath as Slava’s fingers fucked her and Vlad’s greedy hands crept around to claim the abandoned territory of her breasts, his fingers torturing her nipples with their mean frolic. She swallowed a moan, caught between bit and spur as one man’s stroking fingers worked her nipples while the other man’s kneaded her sensitive nub.

Slava’s
bronzed hand on her pale belly drew her eye, her gaze wandering up the estuary of engorged veins roping up from his forearm to the bicep bracketing his scarred chest. Insanely powerful, arms like that could do anything they wanted with her, and her resistance would mean little. She shuddered at her own recklessness.

Her cheek still tingled from the rasping stubble of Slava’s earlier kiss and her mouth remained throbbing and tender from the slick warmth of Vlad’s tongue and teeth clashing with hers. How had she ever lived without this? Slava’s thumb bumped her clit hard and swallowing a choked cry, she sagged against Vlad, burying her face in his neck. She breathed a whiff of metallic gunpowder and grease, the smells of civilisation and order.

Their little bathroom party went well beyond the boundaries of what most considered decent—hell, what she considered decent—but the term was meaningless confronted with the hot fist of arousal gripping her. She wanted them both, both of them plunging into her and filling her to the point of exquisite pain and beyond. Whatever happened afterward, she would deal with.

Over the tender lash of Slava’s finger on her clit and Vlad’s hands on her breasts, she registered a cool nose tip skate along her nape. Vlad. He took a long, deep drag of her skin before retracing his path with soft, playful lips. A frisson of craving slid along her nerves and pricked her from nipples to mound, heating her belly and lust-laden legs. Her ascending need made it all the more unbearable when Slava’s hands pulled away, leaving her with a stupid ache of loss despite Vlad’s torso warming her back.

Raising her head from Vlad’s shoulder, she looked up, eyes rounding as she found Slava drilling her with a look, eyes branding her with their intensity. He looked vulnerable in a way she’d never dreamed possible as the big man searched her face, his gaze hungry and naked. “Have you decided?”

Her chest tightened at the spectacle of a man like Viacheslav
Alexandrovich
Vlasov, a human pit-bull vaccinated against pain and suffering, exposing his jugular for her, Jane Ransom. She registered that the network of silver scars he bore extended all the way up from his lower chest to lick at the base of his throat. Had the carnage extended any higher he would not be here.

Awe at the fragility binding his powerful form to the world scraped away the last barnacle of her reserve.

Life was too short to guard the heart.

She slapped a hand on Slava’s brawny shoulder, touched his warmth and life. “Condoms,” she said, “in my first-aid kit.”

Slava’s
lust-shrouded gaze met hers blankly, as though she’d spoken Swahili.

She repeated it in Russian, and comprehension dawned, along with dismay on his face. His eyes went to Vlad’s and she tensed. Dear God, don’t let her be holed up with two horny Russian soldier-types who didn’t believe in the use of rubbers.

Vlad’s
hands slipped from her breasts. “Yevo
Smazki
?”

She let out a sigh. Thank god, all they wanted to know was whether she had lubricant to go with the condoms. “In the same kit,” she said.

Slava
shook himself out of his fog to take command. “You shower, Jane, while Vlad gets them.” His voice was low as he added, “And you better be quick with that shower.”