The blood. The way it soaked through the bandages I’d so carefully applied to save a man’s life that he’d been so quick to destroy. We were opposites. We had nothing in common except our compatibility in bed, and I knew damn well that didn’t make a relationship.
I’m in way over my head.He’ll kill me too.The second he finds out what I’ve been doing—the SD card I took this morning—he will silence me permanently.
“Leo!”
I flinched.
God, I hated that my body reacted to his voice like that. Hated that something in me still recognized it with affection, still responded to it, even now.
I shoved the door open and slipped inside, already pushing it closed behind me like I could shut him out along with everything else. Like I could put a barrier between me and what I’d just seen.
What I now knew for sure he was capable of. He might not have killed Brad himself, but if he’d been there, Morozov wouldn’t have had to do it himself. He was no better than his boss, and I felt ashamed I’d let good sex shadow that.
Sergei’s hand shot out to press against the panel beforethe door could slam shut, his grip firm enough that the wood stopped with a jar.
“Leo, wait.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended, breathless and edged with panic.
“We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now. Okay? Just go away. I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”
Like, forever.
“Leo, don’t shut me out again. I’m begging you.”
Close the door.Don’t respond to the hurt in his tone.He’s just pretending.
“Goodbye, Sergei.”
I shoved the door harder to close it. At the last second, I saw his hand shoot into the space between the edge of the door and the frame. I yanked the door back, but not before the door grazed him.
“What the fuck?”
I released the door and grabbed his wrist, yanking him inside with me. A couple of his fingers were already turning red.
“Does it hurt?”
With his good hand, Sergei reached for my chin and lowered his head. I struggled to push him away, but even with an injured hand, I was no match for him. His mouth settled over mine, and my back hit the wall. He ravaged my mouth, lips demanding, tongue hot and urgent against mine.
“You care about me,” he said softly. “Admit it, Leo.”
When I didn’t respond—mostly due to how dazed I was from the kiss—he dipped his head again. I reacted and squeezed the fingers I’d just smashed in the door. He hissed from the pain but still kept coming, his teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I threw my head back against the wall, but there was no escape. I couldn’t breathe. All the blood rushed intomy groin, and I was dangerously close to forgetting that those hands sliding under my shirt were the same ones that had just killed a man.
He’d died, and if I hadn’t acted swiftly…
“Sergei, please, don’t,” I begged even as my hips punched forward, and I grabbed his hips.
“I’d rather you want me than be mad at me.”
His lips came down on my cheek, my neck. His kisses were rough, the prickly growth of his beard rubbing against my flesh as he sucked his ownership into my skin. But it was my hands that reached for his belt buckle. It was my hands that got both of us out of our clothes and coaxed him closer so I could align our cocks together. It was my hands coating us in saliva as we ground against each other, thrusting desperately, moaning, groaning.
And all it took from him to obliterate everything else from my mind was his kisses. God, did he know how to kiss. It was unfair how he could use his mouth to make me irrational with need. That sexy mouth of his.
“Always feels so damn good, Leo,” he said on a grunt, his hips moving faster. One of his hands was in my hair, tugging my head back as he sucked on different areas of my neck. I should stop him since my skin bruised so easily and they would be hard to cover up later, but each time my skin pinched between his lips in a stinging bite, the sensation raced right down to my cock.
“You don’t deserve to come,” I said hoarsely, desperate to reclaim a sense of authority with him. “You did a very bad thing today, Sergei.”
