Page 119 of The Enemy Protector
“I know.”
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.”
Her hand stills. “That’s it? Just yes?”
“You’re right. I should have told you. I made a tactical decision. I’ll make more and you’re going to have to accept that.”
She snorts. “If I don’t like a decision, I will fight you.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t trust me enough to let me make that choice. You decided for me.”
“I did.”
She shifts closer, her body pressing against mine. “Don’t do it again.”
“I will do it again if I think I need to.”
I feel her breath against my neck. Her hand slides up to cup the back of my head.
She wants me. That’s not why I came to her bed, but I won’t walk away from what she’s offering.
She’s choosing me despite all the mistakes I’ve made and will make.
I roll her onto her back and settle between her thighs. Her sleep shirt rides up. I push it higher, exposing her breasts. I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard enough to make her gasp.
“Sergei,” she breathes.
My hand reaches between us. I rip her panties away. Her gasp is followed by a soft moan when my fingers swipe over her wetness.
I shove my pants down just enough to free myself.
I position myself at her entrance and push inside in one hard thrust. She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Too much?” I ask, even though I’m not stopping.
“No.”
I fuck her hard and fast, driving into her with all the pent-up rage and fear from tonight. She takes it all, her body rising to meet mine with every thrust.
I take her hard, like I need to erase everything I saw tonight.
And for a few stolen moments with her beneath me, it almost works.
27
Sofia
He's giving me space. I know because Sergei Sokolov doesn't do anything by accident. If he's gone from my bed before I wake up, it's because he decided to be. That's just who he is. Every move calculated.
We don't talk. Not really. We exist in the same space, and we understand each other in the way two people do when they've been circling each other for years without knowing it. But the things that matter, the real things, stay just below the surface where neither of us reaches for them.
It's driving me insane.
I need someone to talk to. Really talk to. I've been bottling all of this up since the night of the drive-by shooting. Since the night my best friend walked away from me and never came back. Since I walked into that warehouse and saw what my father built and had no one to tell.
