The Blood Code (22 page)

“Wait,” he breathed, drawing back. “This isn’t the right time or place for this. You deserve better, Anya. You deserve…”

She pressed a finger to his lips to shush him. “I don’t deserve any more than you, or anyone else does. I’m not a princess who needs fancy things. This may not be the optimal time and place, but let’s be honest. We may never have another chance. Do you really want to throw this away?”

Of course he didn’t. He wasn’t a fool. “You sure you don’t want to use that princess angle? I’ve got this fantasy about being your eager and enthusiastic servant. Pleasing you and making you happy.”

Anya laughed, full belly, head back. “Well, when you put it that way.”

She kissed him again, and this time her hands got in on the action, unbuttoning his shirt and touching him everywhere. One hand slipped lower, and
hello
, she cupped him through his jeans, then stopped. Her head snapped back, and she looked him straight in the eye. “Now
that’s
impressive.”

There was a touch of awe in her voice, and Ryan felt heat creep up his neck. He opened his mouth to reply, but really, what could he say? Thank you? Glad you noticed? Even if he was able to string two words together, there was no right way to respond.

So he grabbed her ass and brought her closer, forcing her to straddle his hardness. She didn’t seem to mind, pressing down on him and shucking off his sweater at the same time.

There they were. Breasts, glorious breasts. The bra she wore was utilitarian, but oh, so good at molding her porcelain skin into perfect mounds that just begged to be kissed, licked, and sucked.

As she wiggled on top of him, her breasts jiggled. No way could he ignore all that beautiful skin. Ryan lowered his mouth and traced the line of cleavage between her breasts with his tongue. She urged his head down, eager for more.

He was happy to oblige. All the things he’d imagined doing to her, he did. He kissed the nipples inside the bra cups, drawing them one at a time into his mouth and sucking lightly. Anya moaned and ground her hips against his lap. She tossed her head back and ran a hand through his hair, egging him on. He released the clasp of the bra at the back, and several papers fell out into his lap, his business card among them.

Ah, yes. Her hiding place. Anya giggled as she shrugged off the bra, nipples hard and straining toward his mouth. “The contraband I stole from Ivanov’s office. There’s more in my pants and socks.”

He tossed the papers next to the gun. “You’d definitely make a good spy.”

A smile split her face, and she hugged him, pressing her breasts close to his face. He took advantage, lowering his lips.

He gave each breast his full attention before kissing his way up Anya’s neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this much, and if she didn’t stop grinding into his lap, she was going to push him over the edge.

He nipped her earlobe with his teeth and whispered, “Are you sure?”

Her eyes were half lidded, lips parted when she looked at him. “I’m scared.”

All the adrenaline pouring through his system came to a screeching halt. She was scared. Of him? Of having sex with him?

Jesus, God, what am I doing
?

It took every ounce of willpower, but he called up his no-nonsense director of operations face, and said the words he needed to say, even though he wanted to shoot himself for even thinking them. “We can stop.”

“No.” She looked stricken for a second. Then laid her head on his shoulder. Her hair tickled his nose, but he didn’t care. Anything to be near her was worth the price. “I don’t want to stop. It’s just…I…”

Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her. “It’s okay. We don’t have to go any further. Like I said before, wrong time, wrong place. A military bunker is not exactly the most romantic place in the world.”

She drew in one of those breaths that seemed to come from her toes, sat up, and met his gaze. “I don’t want to stop.”

There is a God
, and somewhere along the line, Ryan had done something to earn the big guy’s approval. “Tell me what you do want, Anya.”

“Everything. All of it.” She gave him that imploring look. “You. I want you. But there’s something you need to know first.”

His shit meter jumped into the red zone. Here it came. She had a boyfriend back in the States. She really was a Russian spy, double-crossing him. “Anya, just so you know, I’ve never felt like this about a woman. Whatever it is, tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

Silence hung between them for a few seconds. She swallowed visibly. “I’m a…virgin.”

Whoa.

He managed to shut his gaping mouth. For a second anyway. “Excuse me?”

Brilliant, dipshit. The woman tells you she’s a virgin and all you can say is
excuse me
?

She bit her bottom lip, hung her head, and started to slide off his lap.

He grabbed her by the hips and held her in place. “Where are you going?”

Avoiding his eyes, she shrugged. “I’m twenty-six years old and a virgin. It’s understandable you think I’m a freak.”

“A freak?” He tilted her chin up so she had to look at him. “I think you’re amazing.”

Her brows came together. “I’ve never had a relationship, never had a boyfriend. That’s not normal.”

“Screw normal.”

Something flashed in her eyes. “I’d rather screw you.”

Bright pink patches appeared on her cheeks. She laughed self-consciously. “I mean, I’d like—I want—to make love. With you. Right here. If you’re not turned off by my…” She patted her bandaged side. “All my defects.”

Defects. Freak. That’s how she saw herself.

Time to change her self-image. Ryan had a good idea how to do that.

He traced his fingers up her spine, stopping at the back of her neck. Drawing her face close to his, he kissed her left eyelid, then her right. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He continued his assault, pushing hair behind her ears, and nuzzling her neck. “You’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.”

Down to her shoulders, sides, rib cage, and once again, those marvelous breasts. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to be in the same room with you, much less touching you. Kissing you.”

She might have been a virgin, but she wasn’t shy when it came to using her hands and mouth. While he unzipped her pants, she did the same to his. He burst out of the opening and into her hand like a heat-seeking missile. She stroked him with finesse.

All the usual platitudes swam through his testosterone-fueled brain. He should take it slow. Make it last. Her first time should be special. They needed a condom…

Birth control. Damn.

Her hand was smooth, stroking, stroking, stroking, and he was so gone, but he managed to step back from the edge. The only way to slow this down was to disconnect her hand, disconnect her body.

And why the hell would he do that?

“Anya.” He lifted her off his lap and stood her up in front of him. Took a deep breath. “I don’t have a condom.”

Trying to shift gears, she gave him a perplexed look. “That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. While I’d love to throw caution to the wind one more time, I won’t risk getting you pregnant on top of everything else.”

She stepped toward him, but he held up a hand to stop her from climbing back in his lap. She laughed and grabbed his hand, moving it out of her way. “I’m on the pill. Have been for years.”

Now it was his turn to look perplexed.

Realizing he needed an explanation, she looked slightly chagrined. “Because of my blood abnormality, I have really heavy periods. The hormones in the pills help control the bleeding.”

After the longest, shittiest day of his life, his luck had turned around. Behind Anya’s back, the antiquated computer beeped, signaling him it had finally located, and hooked up with, the satellite dish floating miles above the earth.

Yes, sir, lady luck was his.

“As your humble servant, Grand Duchess Anya, let me send out an SOS to Langley, and then I’ll strip those jeans off you, and we’ll do anything your heart desires.”

Already shimmying out of the jeans, she smiled big and Ryan’s heart thudded hard with happiness. “Make it quick.” She kicked the legs of the jeans off her ankles and hopped up on the metal desktop. “A princess doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Taking his eyes off her long, glorious legs should have earned him a star on the wall at Langley because it nearly killed him. His message to Conrad was short and to the point:

Package and president are in trouble. Send help ASAP.

Before he was even done typing, Anya’s hands were on him, pushing down his pants, removing his shirt. There was no way he could have written a longer message if his life depended on it. Which it sort of did. But he’d played his wildcard by including Pennington in the missive, and now all he could do was forget about it. If the Agency came to help, fine, but he wouldn’t sit around waiting for them.

First, he had a princess to please. Then he had to get her the hell out of Moscow.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ryan was amazing.

Anya sat on the metal desk, her naked butt freezing on the cold, hard surface. She didn’t care. Ryan stood before her, leaning over the keyboard, and concentrating on the computer screen next to her. She couldn’t stop touching him. The muscles in his arms, the scant bit of blond chest hair that tickled her fingers, his flat stomach…she wanted it all.

And lower…

Heat rose in her cheeks from the sight of all that masculinity standing at full attention. She’d read romance books. She knew what was supposed to happen, but really? All of
that
was going inside her?

Reaching out, she skimmed his erection with her fingers, and Ryan sucked in a breath. He hit a final button, grabbed her wrist, and turned all that focused concentration on her. “Easy, princess.”

Oops. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to touch him like that. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Your touch drives me a little crazy. I want to take this slow and easy and when you do that? Touch me like that? Well, that’s going to get you fast and hard.”

Fast and hard didn’t sound so bad, especially when the spot between her legs ached for release. His gaze was so intense, she nearly exploded right there. “Please, Ryan,” was all she could say.

Leaning over her, he placed his hands on the desktop on each side of her thighs, and caught her mouth with his. He kicked off his socks and shoes, and the jeans around his ankles, while he kissed her, then broke the kiss for a second while he shoved several computer monitors out of the way, stretched the blanket out on the desktop, and kissed her down onto her back.

Their bodies connected in a long line of hot skin, her legs spreading to welcome him in. Shifting slightly to one hip, she felt him, hard and needy, land in just the right spot. Her body arched against his as a wild clash of emotions and craving crashed through her.

He must have felt it, too. His hips jerked against hers, pinning all that hardness even closer against the sensitive area between her legs. Looking down at her, he drew a sharp breath. “Don’t you want to take this slow?”

How could she know when she’d never done this before? She was only reacting to her body’s need, its impulses. She wrapped her legs around his waist and his erection nudged past her slick folds, making her gasp at the sensation. Her hips moved on their own accord, rocking against him. “I don’t think so.”

He moaned low in his throat, vibrating his chest and hers. She rocked again, wanting him to lose control like she was. Willing him to stop thinking and let his body do what it wanted to her.

Running her hands down his back, she cupped his butt cheeks and pressed them down. At the same time, she arched her lower body once more into his.

“Anya—”

To silence him, she grabbed him hard and brought their mouths together. Ground her pelvis against his, taking him in. The fit was tight for a second, but only a second. Another shift and he slid deeply inside, filling her up.

Oh, God
.

But then he stopped, not moving except to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she focused on his lips and met his tongue with her own, he fondled one of her breasts, massaging it, and tweaking her nipple.

It was her turn to moan.

A new pressure filled her. Ryan, plus her desire, building again at his ministrations. He nuzzled her neck, stroked her thighs, and soon she was moving her hips again. Small rocking motions that began to build. She needed more of him, needed him moving with her.

He said nothing, just looked into her eyes as he drew himself partially out, and slowly pushed himself back inside. There was a light stinging sensation, but pleasure, too. Pleasure she’d never felt before. Meeting his strokes, she held his intense gaze. He filled her up. Not just her body, but her heart. Her mind. Her very soul. This was what it felt like to fall in love.

A new urgency registered down below and Anya met Ryan’s strokes with determination. Something was building inside her. She needed him in a whole new way.

He shifted his hips, one hand moving into the space between their lower bodies.

“What are you…”

“Trust me.” His thumb slid between her folds and hit an extremely sensitive spot.

Anya gasped. Once, twice, three times, his thumb built its own rhythm, working in time with his long strokes. But before it made a fourth caress, she exploded in a flood of sensation, digging her heels into his butt and her nails into his back. “Ryan!”

He continued to move, taking her to the brink, and over it. Continuing to move inside her until her nerve endings were raw. Whispering in her ear. “Are you all right?”

In the height of the orgasm, all she could do was whisper back, “I love you.”

Ryan hardened even more inside her, his whole body tensing. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, and his breathing was fast. “Anya, I…”

He detonated, his whole body freezing for a second. Eyes closed, his face a fierce mask of both concentration and sheer joy. Anya’s heart swelled.

For long seconds afterwards, they held each other. Seconds turned to minutes. Ryan’s deadweight on top of her pressed her into the hard metal beneath the blanket, but when he tried to shift off of her, Anya held him still. “Don’t leave me.”

His breath was warm on her ear. “Never.”