The Taming of the Thief (19 page)

 
   
 
Pietr
shrugged, taking advantage of the nearness to nuzzle at her cheek and then down
to the juncture of her shoulder and throat. Sophie closed her eyes, savoring
the nearness.

 
   
 
“You
can ask,” he murmured, softly, teasing. “I promise I won't break if you want to
know.”

 
   
 
“It
seems rude to want to ask.”

 
   
 
“Does
it?” Pietr leaned his head back, looking up at her face where it hovered near
his. “I want to know everything about you, I don't mind if you want the same.”

 
   
 
Sophie studied his expression. Open sincerity
lined the grooves around his mouth. His eyes were liquid, warm and inviting,
despite the shadows that drifted behind his gaze.

 
   
 
“Do
you want to talk about it?” She nibbled at her lip, placing the ball firmly
back in his court.

 
   
 
His
fingers teased her sides, tugging the shirt loose from her pants so he could
skim beneath the hem to the warm flesh below. Sophie swallowed a small sound.
Tense shivers radiating out from the caress of his fingertips gliding over her
skin.

 
   
 
“Is
that a trick question?” The light rebounded in his gaze, his nose wrinkling in
almost playful delight as his full lips spread into a devil-may-care grin.

 
   
 
“No,”
Sophie laughed. “I just mean if you want to talk about it, I'll listen and if
you don't, I won't press.” She couldn't imagine a world without her parents in
it, the Kingstons were a close-knit bunch and they still ate Sunday brunch
together every week.

 
   
 
Sophie's abdominal muscles jumped as Pietr's
hand glided across it. She found it curiously comforting and erotic to be
straddling his lap, gazing down at the lazy expression on his face as he
explored the contours of her stomach. She'd never thought of her belly button
as an erogeneous zone, yet it was the epicenter of quaking awareness as his
fingers returned to trace it time and again.

 
   
 
“I
should be a gentleman and assure you that you may have the second bedroom again
with no expectations or demands.” A low, almost earthy, growl prowled along the
underside of his words.

 
   
 
Her
pulse quivered, her body rising as he tugged the buttons on her shirt open one
at a time, leaving only two to strain over the rise and fall of her breasts.
Her gaze followed his to where his hand rested against the flat of her stomach.
A fine feathering of dark hair painted the backs of his fingers where they
splayed, his thumb moving in slow sensuous circles.

 
   
 
“Are
you going to be a gentleman?” She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

 
   
 
“Do
you want me to be a gentleman?” His thumb traced up, brushing the underside of
her bra, as though testing the fabric.

 
   
 
“Is
that a trick question?” Looking down into his intelligent eyes, she knew she
was lost.

 
   
 
“Only if you want it to be.”

 
   
 
Tempted beyond measure, she leaned down
testing her lips on his cheek. The rough stubble prickled the tender flesh and
tasted intensely masculine. Closing her eyes, she filled her lungs with his
scent. Pietr's roaming hands stilled, bracing her hips where they pressed into
him.

 
   
 
“I've
never met anyone like you,” she murmured, giving into the urge to explore his
jawline, nibbling kisses that tested the limits of her own restraint.

 
   
 
“Sophie.” His voice strained, fraying at the
edges of her name. “I want to rip these clothes off.”

 
   
 
The
declaration filled her with unexpected boldness. Her tongue quested down to his
throat where his shirt peeked open. She wondered what the rest of him would
taste of, drunk on the aroma of spice, musk and man.

 
   
 
The
pulsing heat of him pressed against her core, leaving her damp and wanting.

 
   
 
She
wanted him.

 
   
 
Sophie lifted her head, dazed by the belated
realization she'd been battling all day. She wanted him and to hell with the
consequences.

 
   
 
“
Bien-aimee
?”
He
whispered as his fingers dug into her hips. She studied the hard planes of his
face, the way his jaw clenched, his throat jerked with a convulsive swallow.
Her nearness affected him as much as his did her.

 
   
 
“You
bought the clothes didn't you?”

 
   
 
Buttons flew on the heels of her last
breathless word. He splayed her shirt open and surged upwards at the same time.
Her legs barely had time to lock around his hips before he strode towards the
bedroom, every step rubbing his thick cock against her, his desire evident
despite the clothes.

 
   
 
He
shoved open the door with one hand, sending it bouncing against the wall. Light
from the sitting room spilled across the king sized bed, but Sophie barely had
time to take it in before he dropped her lightly on the mattress, coming down
on top of her and claiming her mouth.

 
   
 
The
kiss savaged her, demanding and giving in the same breath. His hands braced the
bed on either side of her, his weight pressing her down. His mouth left hers
and before she could utter a protest, closed over her bra, teasing the turgid
nipple beneath. Sophie reared up, her hands coming to his shoulders.

 
   
 
He
released her and seized her hands, lifting up to look at her, a relief of
intensely masculine shadow. “Stay,” he ordered, pushing her hands up to the
pillows over her head.

 
   
 
“I
want to…” He swallowed the rest of her words with another dark, searing kiss
that demanded everything. Liquid fire raced through her blood.

 
   
 
“Stay.” He ordered again, lifting his head as
though waiting for her acquiescence. At her slow nod, he bit her lower lip, a
gentle, stinging nip and then laved it with his tongue before returning to her
bra.

 
   
 
She
fisted the pillows into her hands as he tormented her nipple, soaking the bra
over it. Sophie's back arched, offering her breasts up to him. His smoky gaze
met her over the line of her body, his eyes warning her hands to stay still.

 
   
 
“Pietr,” she whispered, not quite trusting
herself to speak. He closed a hand over her untended breast, fingers massaging
it through the fabric. His mouth sucked at her breast hard and her fingers
clenched and unclenched convulsively, her entire body twisting as if seeking an
escape. She cried out with aching loss as his mouth abandoned her breasts to
travel down the line of her belly, laving his tongue over
he
belly button as he snapped the buttons of her trousers one at a time.

 
   
 
In
one move, he hooked his thumbs into the trousers and tugged, peeling them away
along with her satin panties, leaving her lower half naked and vulnerable.

 
   
 
Sophie gazed up at him and clenched the
pillows harder. Warm hands stroked her thighs, gently parting them. She bit her
lip, legs tensing. She was nearly nude and he was still fully dressed.

 
   
 
“What
is it
petite amor
?”

 
   
 
So
she told him. “I'm scared.”

 
   
 
“Of me?”
He went still, his hand resting on her thigh, as
though letting her get used to the weight, the pressure.

 
   
 
“I
don't do this...I don't go to bed with men I've just met.” She lifted her
hands, fighting the urge to cover herself up. She couldn't see his face in the
near dark of the room, especially with the backlight provided by the open door
to the sitting room.

 
   
 
Pietr's soft chuckle struck sparks with her
embarassment. His fingers caressed the inner length of her thigh, coming
dangerously close to the feminine heat of her core. Her muscles clenched,
anticipation kneading at her like a hungry cat.

 
   
 
“As
much as it would kill me,
cheri
,
I will leave you to sleep. You are safe here.” He blew out a long, hard breath
and she knew that offer cost him.
“Even from me.”

 
   
 
“It's
not that, I just – I just don't know what to do, how to be, what you want. I'm
not sophisticated about these things. Intimacy means something to me. It means
more than just pleasure in the moment.”

 
   
 
Pietr's hand slipped away from her thigh, and
he lowered himself onto the bed next to her, his length framing her side, not
quite close enough to touch.

 
   
 
She
bit her lip at the length of his silence; terrified she'd offended him or
worse, turned him off the whole idea. The fickleness of her thoughts burned the
back of her throat. Did she want him or not?

 
   
 
“Pietr?”

 
   
 
“
Oui
cheri
?”

 
   
 
“Are
you mad?”

 
   
 
“
Non
.
A little frustrated, perhaps.”
He traced the line of her
face with a gentle finger.

 
   
 
Sophie rolled onto her side, drawing her knees
together. The light revealed an almost sympathetic expression on his face, an
almost tender smile on his lips. “What are you thinking?”

 
   
 
“Hmm, that I am a fortunate man to have met such a remarkable
woman, particularly one not afraid to speak her mind.
And you
cheri
, what
thoughts are you torturing yourself with?”

 
   
 
“That
it's not fair that I am laying here nearly naked and you're so dressed, you
still have your shoes on.” She had no idea where that sass came from, but
Pietr's face creased into a merry smile.

 
   
 
“You
know, I think you're right.” He rolled off the bed to stand, shedding his
clothes, all of his clothes, before pointing at her. “Now I believe you are the
one overdressed.”

 
   
 
He
was magnificent. She drank in the vision of him standing at the bedside, every
muscle clearly cut and defined. His broad chest tapered into a flat, six-pack
of well-toned abdominals. Her gaze riveted on the juncture to his thighs and
the blood-flushed cock throbbing in her direction.

 
   
 
Sophie laughed, struggling to sit up. Heat
suffused her face, but she stripped off the shirt and met his gaze, an
unexpected boldness running rampant through her. If someone had told her three
days ago she would be sitting in a hotel room staring at the most gorgeous man
she'd ever met, nude and stripping off her clothes, she would have laughed.

 
   
 
The
bra straps slipped down her arms and she held out the scrap of fabric, dangling
it from two fingers. Pietr took the garment and dropped it on the floor without
taking his eyes off of her.

 
   
 
“
Magnifique
.”
He
murmured and the heat in her face rushed over her and she crossed her arms,
kneeling on the bed. Pietr edged forward, the bed depressing under his weight
until he
laid
down.
His skin’s rich
golden tone a stark contrast to the white comforter.