Smoke and Shadows (22 page)

But he was beyond gentle right now as he grabbed both breasts and squeezed, plumping the perfect orbs to receive his mouth. He alternately sucked and licked each nipple slowly. Marissa began writhing beneath him.

“Mouth. I want your mouth.”

“Tell me where?” Viktor murmured against her lips even as he knew what she meant. She smiled languidly, her hands clutching his head and pushing it lower. Viktor chuckled. That’s his Marissa, never shy with what she wanted. If she wanted his mouth on her pussy, she demanded it. His fingers hooked on the waistband of her pajama bottoms and underwear, dragging them off in one fell swoop.

And in the cold light of dawn, he could see the glistening evidence of her desire, her feminine musk mixing headily with the clean scent of her fancy soap. She was also mostly bare. He couldn’t wait to taste her, to take all of her in his mouth. He buried his face in her molten heat and she cried out instantly. She bucked her hips while her fingers dug wildly into his hair. She was just as rough as he was and he loved it.

“Harder. Yes . . . there . . . God . . .” she screamed again as he tasted her addictive essence. He growled and sucked her clit as she shuddered against him. Her juices flooded his mouth, but he was ravenous for more, tunnelling his tongue into her entrance to seek the source of his hunger.

“Now, Viktor,” Marissa pleaded. “Fuck me now! Now!”

Sliding up her body and anchoring her leg, he sank into her by degrees, relishing the tightness gripping his cock. Pulling out, he repeated the process.
Fucking hell, she feels incredible
. No wonder he was drunk on her. The last vestiges of his control snapped when on his third withdrawal, he slammed back inside her and exponentially increased his thrusts, pounding inside her again and again and again.

Marissa had lost it, her head was shaking from side to side, moaning in abandon, her pussy sucking his cock in as she spasmed around him.

“That’s it, Marissa. Fuck, your pussy is tight,” Viktor groaned. His breathing serrated as he struggled to keep his release at bay to give her another one. Feral in his possession, grunting and pumping like a beast in rut, he planted a hand on the headboard as he adjusted his penetration so he could go deeper, harder. Her hips tilted up when he rammed into her at an angle, drilling into her.
Mine!

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Marissa gasped. Her nails were digging into his chest. She cried out incoherently in what sounded like a mixture of pain and ecstasy, but he was too far gone. Yet he denied his release for the reward of staying inside her longer.

“Feels so good, kitten,” he said raggedly as he thrust a couple of more times. His back bowed before it arched for his release, propelling him forward, he had to grip the headboard so tight, he thought he’d splintered it. He shuddered long and hard, choking on his roar. “Marissa . . . fuck . . . fuck . . .” His heart was still racing. His breathing was labored when the last of his climax left him. He lowered his hand from the headboard and braced his outstretched arms on either side of Marissa. Staring down at her beautiful green eyes, he stated matter-of-factly, “I do believe I’m in love with you.”

Her expression was guarded, and then her lips curved in a tender smile. She reached out to touch his cheek. “I know, big guy.”

Viktor collapsed on top of her, enfolding her securely into him, and rolled to his side. After five sleepless nights, he had his woman finally ensconced in his arms and the beast inside him was quiet and content.

Viktor woke up and was not pleased when Marissa was not beside him. How could he have slept so deeply? It was almost noon, he cursed himself as he got out of bed. He had not even heard Morgan come back from his run and that bothered him. He had fucked himself into a coma and left himself open. That almost never happened. He heard voices in the kitchen and stealthily made his way over there.

“Both at the same time?” Marissa’s incredulous voice asked. “Is that even possible? That sounds painful.”

“Pleasure from pain, babe,” Morgan’s voice was thick, and Viktor bristled. He recognized lust in his tone and he hated another man calling his woman ‘babe’.
 
And what the fuck were they talking about?

“Let me get this straight,” his woman squeaked. “One cock up the vagina, and another one in my . . . um in the ass. Wouldn’t that rip a woman apart?”

“No. You’d be surprised how stretchable—”

Viktor decided it was time to put an end to this conversation.

“Not another word, Morgan,” Viktor warned, stepping into the kitchen and became doubly furious when he saw Marissa’s guilty expression while Stan Morgan had a triumphant look on his face. The man must have a death wish because Viktor was this close to slitting his throat.

“Good of you to join us, Baran,” Morgan said.

“Fuck off!” Viktor shot back. Turning to Marissa, he snapped, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

She raised a sardonic brow, which irked him more. “You looked like you needed some rest.”

“In all the time you’ve known me, has rest been a problem?” He was unravelling and he knew it. He’d come to the unsettling realization of his feelings for Marissa, told her, shown her by worshipping her body, and all she said was “I know.” That fucking stung. Wasn’t the standard reply,
I love you, too
? Fuck him! He was turning into a pussy.

“Do you need coffee, Viktor?” Marissa asked dryly.

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was asking for another hard fucking. Oh yes, she was.

Morgan sighed. “Should I have run a marathon? Would that have given you guys enough time to get this sexual tension out of the way?”

Marissa blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Don’t be silly, Stan.”

Stan? Stan? She’s on first name basis with this prick?

“Would anyone care to explain how you two happen to be discussing—if I’m not mistaken—three-way sex,” Viktor said.

Marissa visibly gulped. She looked helplessly at Morgan.

“I was teasing Ms. Cole.” Morgan shrugged. “And she blasted me for my dig at you yesterday regarding the ménage. I suggested you looked like a man who was into that stuff.”

Fucking Stan Morgan
.
 

Viktor kept his mouth shut.
 

Morgan’s lips twitched.
 

Marissa waited patiently for him to say something. Probably a denial. But he couldn’t lie.
 

“Viktor?” his woman prompted.

“I’m fucking going to gut you, Morgan,” Viktor repeated his threat to the man yesterday.

“Oh, my God? You’re into that?” Marissa asked. “Two women, one man or two men, one woman?”

“Both,” Viktor said. “And I’m
not
into that. Just occasionally. If the woman wants to.” He cut a sharp glance at Marissa. “But don’t get any ideas because I’m not sharing you with any man or woman.”

“So the um, two men, one woman.” Marissa was beet red and her voice trailed off. “Do you and the other guy—”

Jesus. Fuck. Shit.
 

“No,” Viktor roared.

Morgan burst out laughing and backed out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave you two to sort it out. I’ve got errands to run.” To Marissa, he asked, “You sure I can use this crib while I’m stateside, Ms. Cole?” Viktor wondered what those ‘errands’ were, but he’d guess it was some kind of job.

“I’m sure,” Marissa replied. “I need to get back to DC, anyway. Keep your nose clean.”

“Right,” Morgan nodded. “Call me if you need anything. And thanks for loaning me your car.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the kitchen after Morgan left the house. Viktor broke it first. “So you’re returning to DC with me then?”
 

“Do I have a choice?” Marissa asked warily.

“Not really.”

More silence. Viktor knew better than to act all jealous and possessive over Marissa now that he’d had the time to calm down. He still didn’t like it that his woman was sharing such an intimate conversation with another man. But there were just too many strikes against him yesterday that he was probably bordering on psycho territory—Marissa just brought out that tendency in him. He was keeping an eye on Stan Morgan. That man was a troublemaker.
 

This time it was Marissa who spoke first. “Am I enough for you, Viktor? Sexually?”

His chest clenched from the crushing uncertainty that clouded her face, and he cursed Stan Morgan once more for opening that can of worms. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, kitten.” He pulled her close, pressing their hips together, his eyes gazing into hers intently.
 

She pursed her lips. “It’s just that I’ve heard so many rumors about your lifestyle from different quarters and yet you’ve never suggested anything deviant for us.”

“Are you suggesting I’m too vanilla?” Viktor’s mouth brushed the tip of her ear. “Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, sweetheart?”

“Um…no.”

“Nipple clamps?”

“What?”

“They’re exactly that, something to pinch your nipples—”

“No!”

“Then I won’t,” Viktor murmured. “I get what I need from you, Marissa. I had those kinks all those years because the sex was never satisfying.” And that was the undeniable truth. Though he wasn’t about to tell her it was his way of coping from losing her that first time. A form of control. With her, it was more than a physical connection. It was on a primal emotional level that shot straight to his very soul.
 

Marissa nodded. “I don’t mind the cuffs and spanking though.”

And just like that, he was ready to take her again. “Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I don’t mind either. Not at all.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The drive back to the city was uneventful. However, observing how Viktor morphed back into the cold, calculating leader of AGS was fascinating. He was on the phone the majority of the time, just as she was on her laptop. Satellite service was spotty so she would take the occasion to ruminate about what had happened in the last twelve hours.

She.

Was.

Conflicted.

Viktor had fucked her over the kitchen counter. Like the previous evening, there was an urgency in his touch, in the way he drove inside her. He was always the dominant one during sex. She could count the few times he’d allowed her to be on top. And she was fine with it. But was she really enough for him? She didn’t think she would be the type to go deviant. She was thankful that Viktor didn’t want to share her. She didn’t like to share or be shared. And though Morgan painted an interesting picture of two men inside her at the same time, her stomach churned, not because she thought it was revolting, but at that moment, she couldn’t imagine another man’s touch except Viktor’s. It was an all-consuming need. She craved his touch, and only his.
 

But therein lay the conflict for her. Her independent nature was rebelling. She could take his dominance in bed, but somehow the control was spilling into their relationship. She was more stubborn than most women, she’d admit to that, but it was only because her overbearing father made her that way. One had to be strong not to be trampled by one Trenton Cole III. He was a ruthless businessman, and a cold domineering father. In the end, he couldn’t control those closest to him because his children had inherited his own dominant streak. That side of Marissa was now screaming at her relationship with Viktor. She was falling in love with him, probably already was in love with him, and that was suppressing her own controlling nature. But how long before they would clash and end up hurting each other?

“Don’t think about it.” He was off the phone and had glanced briefly at her.

Marissa huffed and looked out the window.

“Iz.” The tone quiet, but commanding.

She gave up on the scenery and turned her gaze to take in his strong profile. What was she so scared of?
 

“I know I dumped some serious shit on you back there at the safe house,” Viktor said, keeping his eyes on the road. “With our jobs at our respective organizations, our relationship dynamics could be quite complicated.”

No shit, Sherlock
, Marissa thought snidely.

“We can’t overthink this, Marissa,” Viktor said, a rough-edge honed his voice. “Duty and responsibility versus what we feel for each other, there’s bound to be conflicting interests.” He cut her another brief look. “I can feel the resentment sliding off you. We’re facing a challenge ahead with the nerve gas. We’re going to disagree. I’m not going to want you to take risks, and if I have my way, you’re going to feel diminished because I want to protect you. I get that. It’s a delicate balance. Hell, I see that fight between Maia and Jack all the time.”

“What are you trying to say then?”
 

“You’re a strong woman—”

“Don’t patronize me, Viktor—”

“I’m not. It’s the truth because that’s one of the things I love about you,” Viktor paused. Marissa suspected he wasn’t quite ready to say the L word again, but he added, “You have no idea how much I admire your intelligence and your courage even if the danger you put yourself in makes my teeth hurt. I’ve accepted that’s who you are and it’s your job. But I can’t turn off my instinct to protect you or be worried about you.”

“Or be pissed at me.”

Viktor chuckled. “Or be pissed at you.”

“You seem to be in control where your agents are concerned. I wish you’d show more faith in me to take care of myself like you do with Maia. I know I’m not in her caliber, but I do manage,” Marissa said quietly.

There was a pronounced silence before Viktor finally spoke. His voice was flat and cautious. “Maia and I have a complicated understanding. I trained her when she was very young. I think with as many missions that have gone south where either of us thought the other was dead, we’ve accepted we’re living on borrowed time. We’ve kind of accepted that sooner or later one of us is going to bite the dust.”

“That. Is. Sick!” Marissa exclaimed.

“Things have changed,” Viktor qualified. “Maia has something she wants to live for more than her job.”

“Jack.”

“Yes.”

Marissa didn’t want to ask the next obvious question. She feigned a yawn, rested her head back, closed her eyes and mumbled, “Happy for them.”