Dark, Dangerous, & Mine

Chapter 4

4

Yulia

My mind in turmoil, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch Lucas undress.

First, he pulls off his sweater, revealing a tight T-shirt stretched across his muscular chest. Next, he takes off his shoes and pushes down his jeans and black briefs. His legs are as powerful as they’d appeared through his clothes, thick with muscle and as darkly tanned as his face. His c**k, already hard again, is jutting out from a nest of brownish-blond hair at his groin, and as he pulls off his T-shirt, I see sharply defined abs and sculpted chest.

Lucas Kent has the body of an athlete, beautiful in its uncompromising strength.

As I watch him, I become aware of a strange urge to touch him. Not in an effort to please him or because it’s expected of me, but because I want to. I want to know how his muscles feel under my fingertips, whether his bronzed skin is smooth or rough. I want to lick his neck, tongue the hollow above his collarbone, and find out how that warm-looking skin tastes.

It makes no sense, but I want him. I want him even though I’m sore from his rough f*****g, even though he should be an assignment, nothing more.

He steps out of his jeans and briefs and kicks them aside, then comes toward me. I don’t move as he approaches me. I hardly even breathe. When he’s next to me, he stops and sinks to his haunches. “Lie back,” he murmurs, grasping my calves, and before I have a chance to realize what he’s doing, he pulls me toward him, not stopping until my ass is partially hanging off the mattress.

“What are you—” I begin to say, but he ignores me, using one strong hand to push me down on the mattress. I fall onto my back, my heart hammering, and then I feel it.

His warm breath on my s*x as he pulls my thighs apart.

My breathing quickens again, heat surging through my body as he presses a kiss to my closed folds, his lips soft and gentle. There’s barely any pressure on my c**t, but I’m so sensitive from my earlier orgasms that even that light touch sends my nerves zinging. I gasp, arching toward him, and he laughs softly, the low, masculine sound creating vibrations that travel through my flesh, adding to the growing ache within me.

“Lucas, wait.” My voice is breathless, panicked from the need he’s invoking within me. The ceiling blurs in front of my eyes. “Wait, don’t—”

He ignores me once again, his tongue sweeping over my slit and delving into my opening. As he begins to f**k me with his tongue, I forget what I was going to say. I forget everything. My eyes squeeze shut, and the world around me disappears, leaving only darkness and the feel of his tongue dipping in and out of my soaked p***y. The fire burning within me is white-hot, my flesh so swollen and sensitized that his tongue feels as big as a c**k. Except it’s softer, more flexible—and as he moves that tongue higher, circling my c**t, I tense, feeling like a string being wound tighter and tighter.

“Lucas, please...” The words come out in a begging moan. I don’t know what I’m asking for, but he seems to—because he closes his lips around my throbbing c**t and sucks on it. Lightly, gently, using only his lips as his tongue laves the underside of it. And it’s enough. It’s more than enough. My toes curl, the tension gathering into a pulsing ball in my s*x as I arch up—and then I come with a choked cry, the orgasm blasting through me with stunning force. Every cell in my body fills with the pulsing pleasure of release, and my heart gallops in my chest.

Before I can recover, he flips me onto my stomach, bending me over the edge of the bed. Then I hear another foil packet ripping and a second later, he drives into me, his thick c**k spearing me, stretching me once more. I gasp, my hands fisting the sheets as he takes me with a hard, fast rhythm, pounding into me so hard it should hurt—except my body is beyond that now. All I feel is need. I’m awash in it, drunk on the sensations he’s wringing from my flesh. As he thrusts into me, his movements force my s*x against the edge of the mattress, putting rhythmic pressure on my c**t, and I explode again, screaming his name. But he doesn’t stop.

He just keeps f*****g me, his fingers digging into my hips as he drives into me, again and again.

I wake up tangled with him, our bodies glued together with sticky sweat. I don’t remember falling asleep in his embrace, but it must’ve happened, because that’s where I am now, surrounded by his powerful body.

It’s dark, and he’s asleep. I can hear his even breathing and feel the rise and fall of his chest as my head rests on his shoulder. My mouth is dry and my bladder is full, so I try to wiggle out from under his heavy arm—which immediately tightens around me.

“Where are you going?” Lucas’s voice is hoarse, roughened with sleep.

“To the bathroom,” I explain cautiously. “I have to pee.”

He lifts his arm and moves his leg off my calves. “All right. Go.”

I scoot away from him and sit up, wincing at the soreness I feel deep inside. I don’t know how long he f****d me that second time, but it could’ve easily been an hour or more. I lost count of how many times I came, the orgasms melding together into one never-ending wave of peaks and valleys.

My legs are unsteady as I stand up, my inner thighs aching from being stretched wide. After f*****g me from behind, he turned me over and grabbed my ankles, holding my legs open as he drove into me, thrusting so deeply that I begged him to stop. He didn’t, of course. He just shifted his hips, changing the angle of his strokes to hit that sensitive spot within me, and I forgot all about the pain, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of his hard possession.

Inhaling deeply, I force myself back to the present, my bladder reminding me of another overwhelming need. Shakily, I walk to the bathroom and relieve myself. Then I wash my hands, brush my teeth, and splash cold water on my face, trying to regain my equilibrium.

Everything is fine, I tell myself as I stare at my pale face in the mirror. Everything is going according to plan. Great s*x is a bonus, not a problem. So what if this ruthless stranger can make me respond this way? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just f*****g, a meaningless physical act.

Except with him it isn’t meaningless.

No. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force that voice away and splash more water on my face, washing away the doubts. I have a job to do, and there’s nothing wrong with treating this night as a perk of that job.

There’s nothing wrong with letting myself feel pleasure—as long as I don’t let it mean anything.

Feeling marginally more like myself, I make my way back to the bed, where Lucas is waiting for me. As soon as I lie down next to him, he pulls me against him, curving his body around me from the back and covering us both with a blanket. I let out a sigh of enjoyment as his warmth surrounds me. The man is like a furnace, generating so much heat that I instantly feel toasty, the ever-present chill inside my apartment forgotten.

“When are you leaving?” I ask softly as he arranges me more comfortably, settling my head on his outstretched arm and draping his other arm over my hip. This is what I need to know from him, what I owe Obenko for my failure, yet something tightens within me as I wait for Lucas’s answer.

That pang of emotion—it can’t be regret at the thought of him leaving.

That wouldn’t make sense.

Lucas nuzzles my ear. “In the morning,” he whispers, his teeth grazing over my earlobe. His breath sends a warm shiver through me. “I have to be out of here in a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Ignoring the irrational twinge of sadness, I do quick mental math. According to the digital clock on my nightstand, it’s a little after four a.m. If he has to leave my apartment around six, then their plane must be departing at eight or nine in the morning.

Obenko doesn’t have much time to do whatever he plans to do to Esguerra.

“You can’t stay longer?” I turn my head to brush my lips against Lucas’s outstretched arm. It’s the kind of question a woman who has feelings for a man might ask, so I’m not afraid it would raise his suspicions.

He chuckles softly. “No, beautiful, I can’t. You should be glad of that”—his arm on top of me shifts, his hand sliding down to palm my s*x—“given how sore you said you are.”

I swallow, remembering how toward the end of that marathon s*x session I pleaded for mercy, my insides raw from so much f*****g. Incredibly, I feel a twinge of renewed sensation at the memory—and at the touch of that big, strong hand between my legs.

“I am sore,” I whisper, hoping he would stop and at the same time, hoping he wouldn’t.

To my relief and disappointment, he moves his hand back to my hip, even though I feel his c**k stirring against my ass. The man is a s****l machine, unstoppable in his lust. According to the file I’ve been given, he’s thirty-four years old. Most men past their teenage years don’t want to have s*x three times a night. Once, twice maybe. But three times? His c**k shouldn’t harden with so little provocation.

It makes me wonder how long it’s been since Lucas Kent’s had a woman.

“Are you going to return any time soon?” I ask, pushing that thought aside. It’s ridiculous, but the idea of him being with other women—of him giving them the kind of pleasure he gave me—makes my chest tighten in an unpleasant way.

“I don’t know,” he says, shifting so that his semi-hard erection is wedged more comfortably against my ass. “Maybe one day.”

“I see.” I stare into the darkness, battling the part of me that wants to bawl like a child deprived of her favorite toy. This is not real, none of it is real. Even if I were truly an interpreter, I’d know this is nothing more than a one-night stand. But I’m not the carefree, easy girl I’m pretending to be. I didn’t have s*x with him for fun; I did it to get information—and now that I have it, I need to get it to Obenko right away.

As Lucas’s breathing evens out, signifying that he’s asleep again, I carefully reach for my phone. It’s sitting on the nightstand less than a couple of feet away, and I manage to grab it without disturbing Lucas, who’s still holding me against him. Ignoring the growing ache in my chest, I type out a coded message to Obenko, letting him know that Kent is with me and what time they’re planning to depart.

If my boss is planning to strike at Esguerra, now is as good a time as any, since at least one man from Esguerra’s security team is out of the way.

As soon as the text message goes out, I erase it from my phone and put the device back on the nightstand. Then I close my eyes and force myself to relax against Lucas’s hard body.

My assignment is done, for better or for worse.