Sergei stepped closer, boots heavy.“I told you I was former Kryvaya Stal.What’d you think that meant?”
The organization trafficking kids through Coastal Futures, her audit’s target.His coded tattoos had hinted, but his brutality confirmed it.“You were an enforcer,” she said, pieces clicking.
“Yes.”His eyes held hers, unflinching.
Her stomach tightened, not all fear.His honesty, damning, stirred her.“And now?”Her tremor crept into her voice.
“Now I’m keeping you and Tiana alive.”He touched her arm, gentle above the elbow, burning through her sleeve.Her breasts tightened, heat flaring between her legs.“My past’s ugly, Keisha.It’s what protects you now.”
Earlier, his hands had inked some of her scars, gentle despite his strength.She’d felt this jolt then, dismissed it.“I’ve managed fine without you,” she said, not pulling away.
“Have you?”His gaze hit her tremor.“When’d you last sleep?Eat real food?Take your meds right?”
The questions hit hard.She’d skipped meals, cut doses to stretch pills.“My health’s not your business,” she said, stepping into the hallway, needing distance from his heat.
“She matters to you,” Sergei said, watching her watch Tiana.“So she matters to me.”
His guard cracked, showing the man who’d inked her.“Why?”she asked.“Why risk this for us?”
His eyes darkened, raw.“My sister.Kryvaya Stal took her.I did nothing.”
Her anger faltered.“I need to know what we’re facing,” she said, softer.“To protect her.”
“Mikalai won’t stop.”Sergei closed the gap, floor creaking.“He will send the best trackers they’ve got.They’ll report to Dmitri, bring more men.”
“Dmitri?”
“Miami’s boss.”His jaw clenched.“Runs Coastal’s pipeline.Your audit affects what he does.”
Her pulse spiked.Her suspicions now real.“How long do we have?”
“A few hours.Maybe till morning.”His hand touched her waist, steadying, possessive.Her body leaned in, traitor to her mind.“I’ll keep you both safe,” he said, voice rumbling.
Promises usually broke her after a lifetime of system failures and kids lost.But Sergei’s carried weight.“I don’t need—” she started, heat rushing, thighs pressing together.
He was too close, warmth radiating.Her cunt throbbed, aching.Not the time, yet her body craved him, his strength, his danger.
Sergei’s hand cupped Keisha’s face, his callused palm rough against her cheek.She froze, caught between pulling away and leaning in.His touch wasn’t gentle, it was certain, possessive even, and her body responded with a rush of heat that momentarily drowned out the persistent tremor in her arm.His eyes locked on hers, asking a question she wasn’t ready to answer.Then he closed the last inches between them, and his mouth claimed hers.
The kiss wasn’t tentative.Sergei kissed like he did everything else with absolute commitment, taking control while giving her space to retreat.But retreat was the last thing on her mind as his lips moved against hers, firm and warm.His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, and she opened for him without thinking, a soft moan catching in her throat.
Keisha’s hands found his jacket, fingers curling into the worn leather.She pulled him closer, her body making decisions her brain was still arguing with.His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting faintly of coffee and something uniquely him.Her cunt throbbed in response, an ache building between her thighs that made her press them together for relief.
He growled low in his chest, swallowing her moan as he backed her up until her spine hit the wall.The sudden contact made her gasp, and Sergei took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue plunging inside her mouth in slow, possessive strokes.He kissed like he was already inside her, like every sweep of his tongue was a promise of what he’d do when she let him all the way in.
His hands were no longer content with just her face and waist.One slid down to her thigh, dragging her leg up until it hooked around his hip.The heat of his body pressed against her core, and she gasped into his mouth as her clit throbbed hard enough to make her knees shake.He pinned her there, grinding once—slow, brutal—letting her feel how hard he was.Letting her know exactly what she did to him.
“Fuck,” she whispered into his mouth.“Sergei—”
He bit her bottom lip, not enough to hurt, just enough to make her whimper.“You are mine.Have been from the moment I saw you at the clinic.The sooner you admit it, the better.”
She arched into him, hips moving of their own accord, needing friction, pressure, anything to ease the tension knotting low in her belly.His mouth moved down her neck, stubble scraping a path that made her thighs tremble.He licked just beneath her ear, and she almost came right there, her body tightening, so close.
Her pussy clenched around nothing, wet and aching.Her fingers clawed at his back through his shirt, grounding herself with the feel of hard muscle and heat.
But then a spike of something wrong.A familiar metallic taste crept into her mouth, distinct from Sergei’s taste.Her right arm jerked against his back, misfiring nerves she knew too well.
No.
