Oceans of Fire (40 page)

“DID you mean what you said to Jonas?” Abigail asked as she tossed her purse on the soft leather sofa and whirled to face him.

Aleksandr closed the door to his rented beach house and locked it. “I usually mean what I say,
baushki-bau
. What exactly are you referring to?”

“The part about when we get married you’ll need a job.”

“It isn’t as if I’m independently wealthy and I’m certainly not planning to live off of you. I like working,” he replied.

Her gaze was on him. Bright, half hopeful, half afraid. She looked so beautiful to him, standing there waiting. He could see the rise and fall of her chest, the way her breasts strained against her thin silk top. She looked an elegant lady, still in her clothes from the party. He wanted her the way he always did the moment they were alone. It always hit him that way, the need raw and intense and so strong it shook him. He never bothered to hide it from her, what would be the point? She held such power over him, over his body, over his heart.

She licked her lips, that little flick of her tongue making him groan. “Here? You’d be willing to come here and work?”

“I believe you’re persona non grata in my homeland,” he pointed out. “We can live anywhere you want, but I think this is where you’re happiest.”

Her lips curved, trembled, but she held back the smile, still too afraid to believe. “I travel a lot with my work.”

“I like to travel.”

Her mouth trembled and she pressed her fingers to it. “Are you serious?”

“
Ya lyublyu tibya
. I love you in any language, Abigail. Wherever you are is home to me.”

“But you love your country so much.”

“That will never change. Because I live here or on an island somewhere doesn’t change who I am or where I’m from. I’ll always love my country, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love another one as well. You’re the most important person in my life, Abbey. I tried living without you. I didn’t like it.“

“Are you certain, Sasha? Very, very certain?” The color washed out of her face. “I couldn’t go through losing you again. I mean it. Think about this before you answer. We’re so different. And you can be so ruthless sometimes. I’m not certain we’re capable of living together for any length of time.”

“I’m not capable of living without you, Abbey, so we’ll find a way to make it work. That’s all there is to it.”

She studied his face as if trying to see through his expression to what lay deeper. He’d spoken the simple truth and he was counting on the fact that she was a woman who knew the truth when she heard it. It took a few moments to believe. His heart jerked in his chest and he felt the familiar knots gathering in his gut. And then joy lit her face, her eyes, and he could breathe again.

Abigail launched herself at him, crossing the distance separating them with a couple of leaps. Aleksandr caught her, laughing, his mouth meeting hers, hands tearing at her clothes. He dragged the jacket over her arms and popped three buttons on her silk blouse. Abbey was worse, ripping his shirt even as all the buttons went scattering in every direction. He wanted to touch her, touch that soft satin skin that drove him so wild. She always made him hotter just by the way she was so eager for him, sliding her hands up his belly and chest, her mouth frantic on his, small little frenzied sounds escaping her throat.

Aleksandr stripped the classy pin-striped trousers from her hips, urging her to step out of them. She kicked off her heels and allowed him to move her away from the clothes. He whirled her around and backed her up to pin her body between his and the wall. Her white silk shirt gaped open, giving him tantalizing glimpses of her full breasts peeking through flesh-colored lace. A tiny black thong covered only a fraction of her red tight curls and three V-shaped straps cuddled the top of her buttocks.

Aleksandr’s mouth was rough and greedy with hunger on hers. She was giving herself to him, but it wasn’t enough. A part of him was angry with her, furious with her that four long years had gone by and she’d left him alone.
Forced
him to be without her. That she could just walk away and not look back. That he had been alone in a living hell without her, while she went around the world doing whatever it was she did. He tore the artfully placed combs from her red hair so that it tumbled down in wild disarray, just the way he loved it.

“Tell me you love me.” He ordered it gruffly as his mouth left hers to find her throat, licking and sucking at her soft skin. He trailed kisses lower until his teeth found her sensitive nipple and he had her arching against him, her head thrown back and her breath coming in small gasps.

It wasn’t enough, her surrender, her offering. She had been his, her body given to him and then mercilessly taken from him. He licked and sucked at her nipples, his hand sliding over her stomach to the thatch of red hair. Tiny beads of moisture welcomed him. “Damn it, Abbey, tell me. Say it out loud and you’d better mean it this time.”

She cried out when his mouth took possession of her breast, suckling, teeth scraping her nipple gently, little nips and teasing bites. His fingers sank into her waist as he held her pinned against the wall. She tried to tear at his clothes; her hands at the zipper of his trousers and the feel of her fingers brushing against him, her throaty cries, and moist sheath nearly drove him mad. Only Abbey could destroy his control this way. It was only
her
body that made him crazy with need.

He was desperate for her, desperate to bury himself in her hot, tight sheath, to feel her so wet and ready for him. To
know
she needed him every bit as much as he needed her. He wanted to see her eyes glaze over with lust as he drove her body to the point of release over and over again. He wanted to know her little desperate cries were for him alone.

“Hurry, Sasha.” She could barely get the words out, panting as she tried to drag his clothes from his body. “I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.”

He loved the little thong, but it had to go. He yanked the thin strip of material from her body and dropped it carelessly aside as he dropped to his knees and shoved her thighs apart. “Damn it, Abbey, do you have any idea how much I missed you? Missed the taste of you? The feel of you wrapped around me? The other night wasn’t enough. A lifetime will never be enough.”

Her fingers tunneled in his hair, tried to yank him up where she could get to him, but his hands caught the soft curves of her bottom and his tongue swept over and into her. She screamed, her body jerking in his hands, but he held her firmly, fingers massaging while he lapped at her heat and fire. He had dreamt of this night after night, waking with his body raging at him and the taste of her still in his mouth. She came, her orgasm rocking her, so that her legs buckled.

Aleksandr caught her around the waist and lifted her in his strong arms, bracing her against the wall, and drove into her hard, without preamble, burying himself deep inside her throbbing, pulsing sheath. She was fiery hot. Hotter than he’d ever felt her before. His hands were rough, his demands rough, but Abbey took him into her, panting, crying for more, her nails digging deep, head thrown back and breasts swaying with each hard thrust of his hips.

There it was, the glazed look of complete surrender, of ecstasy that captivated him. She burned for him, matching his ferocious needs with her own, offering him her body as a refuge, as a playground, as an instrument of intense love. She gave him everything and no one would ever match that for him.

The walls of her sheath pulsed and gripped tightly, as greedy for him as he was for her. He bent forward, taking her mouth, his kiss as hungry as his shaft, his need so great he was brutal in his thrusts. She screamed again, flooding him with hot cream, the walls of her sheath milking and gripping, but he refused to come.

He took her to the floor, buried deep inside her body, riding her hard and fast and deep, his face etched with lines of strain, with excitement and pleasure.

“
Sasha
.” She panted his name, rose to meet each thrust with one of her own. She couldn’t get her breath as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. The sensation tore through her body, through her vagina, her womb, and up through her belly to her breasts. Her entire body seemed to pulse and throb and fracture.

“More. I need more from you.” He bit the words out between his teeth. He had no idea what would assuage the terrible ache in his heart. But he wanted her coming completely apart in his arms, submitting to his every demand, screaming his name over and over and admitting she loved him.

Coming up on his knees between her thighs, he thrust her legs wider, watching the way they came together, watching his body moving in and out of hers. She was so wet, so hot, her breasts heaving and her nipples incredibly erect. He drew her knees even higher so he could angle himself to press tighter against her clit.

Her body shuddered with pleasure, nearly taking his with it as she went over the edge again, the orgasm was so strong, but he held back, stilling his body, holding her against him so he could feel the tightness in his balls as they lay up against the curve of her buttocks. He stroked with his fingers, felt her jump in response. Her fists tried to dig into the floor, desperate to find something to hang on to. She writhed under him, moaning softly, pleading with him.

He bent forward to whisper to her, hot passionate words, all the things he’d missed doing with her, all the things he intended to do to her. All the ways he would take her. How he wanted her mouth, so beautiful, so hot and tight on him. Each erotic word sent shudders of anticipation through her body so that her muscles clamped all the tighter around him, so that the walls of her sheath pulsed with fire and hot liquid.

“Tell me you love me, Abbey,“ he said again.

She wanted to hold out. She knew what he would do, exactly how he would react to her stubborn refusal. He was very demanding in his lovemaking, and she loved it the most when he was like this, rough and insistent and inventive. He was thick and long and so damned hard she felt stretched and full. He was hitting every nerve ending she had. His fingers were busy, stroking juices over her body, delving deep, teasing and tormenting even as he occasionally bent over her to use his teeth to deliver a series of small bites, his tongue following to ease the tiny pinpoints of pain.

He thrust into her so deep she could feel the large thick head of him bumping against her womb. His face was lined with intent, with desire, his powerful body thrusting hard and deep, over and over, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

“Tell me,” he bit out, his expression turning savage.

She couldn’t stand the pain in his eyes. His face was rough and dark and his eyes were twin storms. He needed her. It was raw and plain and so intense she couldn’t deny him anything. Not even the truth. “It terrifies me how much I love you,” she admitted.

He stilled. Buried deep inside her, her silken sheath a tight fist gripping him, her body soft in surrender beneath him, he stared down into her eyes. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her breasts rose-colored, the nipples hard peaks, and her eyes were half dazed with desire, but he saw beyond the wild frenzy of heat and lust they shared. He saw it clearly in the depths of her eyes.

“Abbey,” he whispered her name.

She shook her head. “I want you so much sometimes I can’t breathe, or think properly. I don’t care what’s right or wrong. I forget about the future, the past, about everything because I want you. I want you buried so deep inside of me you’ll never get out. I want to be stretched and full and fall asleep with you kissing and holding me and wake up to you eating me like candy, like you’ll never get enough of me. It’s the most terrifying thing in the world to love you, Sasha, because I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He bent his head and found her mouth, kissing her over and over, trying to take the pain out of her voice and the fear out of her heart. Her tongue tangled with his, a dance of love that quickly grew hot with need. His hips began a slow, seductive rhythm again. He straightened up and pulled her ankles over his shoulders. “You’re safe with me.”

Abigail closed her eyes as his body slid almost out of hers and then slammed deep again in one hard stroke. Heat began to build, spreading like wildfire, her body winding tighter and tighter as his hips drove downward and he angled her body to stroke her most sensitive spot. Pleasure mounted until she thought she would have to scream for release. It built and built, higher and higher, tighter and tighter, and her body was no longer her own, but his, completely under his command.

“I can’t come again, it’s too much,” she gasped, her head tossing from side to side. But she
had
to, she needed release more than she needed anything at that moment.

“You’ll come for me,” he decreed. “Again and again. It’s never too much to bring you pleasure. Feel us,
lyubof maya
.” He was harder and thicker than he’d ever been, swelling within the hot glove surrounding him. She was like a fist, holding him tight, rubbing and milking and demanding more. Always more. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want her breathless, eager pleas to stop.

She whimpered, a soft little sound he’d been waiting for, knew would come when he pushed her past the point she thought she could take. She was mindless with pleasure now, writhing beneath him, lifting up to meet the hard surge of his body into hers. He reveled in the feel of her muscles rippling and gripping, so desperate for him. He began to drive into her, clamping her ankles to his shoulders so he had that perfect angle and he could piston into her faster and faster.

He felt her body shudder, shatter, implode around him, taking him with her, her vaginal walls clamping around him like a tight fist, so hot he thought he’d go up in flames. His hoarse cry mingled with hers and he felt his knees go as he emptied himself deep inside of her. Letting go of her ankles, he helped her legs to the floor and allowed his own body to settle over the soft cushion of hers.

He held her pinned to the floor, his body deep in hers feeling every ripple, every electric shock. He loved that, the aftermath when the slightest touch to her nipples or neck, cupping her buttocks or flicking his tongue over her skin, sent another shudder of pleasure through her so that her muscles convulsed around him.