Page 23 of Lord of Passion

Volkov gallantly kisses my hand and I give Polina the traditional three Russian kisses on the cheek. We're both attempting this at the same and it's a little bit sloppy and there might be some mascara smears, but we get through as the goodbyes and I make my unsteady way back to the hotel, supported by an amused Nikandr.

"I'll see you up to your suite," he says, escorting me into the elevator. "It's not safe to be walking around in your condition."

"My condition? I'mfine,"I draw out the word, leaning away from him and knocking my shoulder against the elevator door. "We're not even on the same floor. I made sure of that." I flush when he laughs.

"Oh, so that means you know which suite I'm in?" he says with a grin. He's still perfectly put together, his tie even and jacket smooth. There's a glitter, though, in his eye that tells me even his legendary Slavic constitution isn't stopping the vodka from soaking into his common sense, much like it is into mine.

"I'll just get off here," I say, slamming a button. The elevator stops with a jolt and I fall backward. He catches me again and I'm pressed against his chest, his arms around my back, and his voice is deeper now. rougher. Nikandr's polished edge has worn down to something more feral.

"If you wanted me to fuck you in the elevator, you just had to say so," he says, his voice rasp of arousal.

Horrified, I realize I'd hit the emergency button. I try to eel free from his grasp. "That wasn't what I was attempting to do!" I say, reaching for the panel. "I was just trying to get off at the seventh floor. I'll walk the next two flights of stairs. I need the exercise!"

"Oh no, you don't," he chuckles and then his mouth is on mine and-

I am so fucked.

Even that little cautionary thought drifts away in a haze of lust because oh, sweet baby Jesus, this man cankiss.Nikandr's lips are firm, slanting over mine with the perfect amount of pressure and the slick slide of his tongue between mine. It curls with my tongue, tracing my teeth as a low, pleased rumble comes from his chest.

"Sweet. I knew it," he says, almost to himself and then his mouth is on mine again, kissing more harshly, sliding his hand up into my hair and gripping a fistful, turning my head to where he wants me. I'm pressed against the mirrored wall of the elevator, the handrail is digging into my back, and the weight of him is disconcerting. A solid wall of muscle, enveloping me, encasing me in a weirdly protective way that makes me feel loose, drifting free from reality and my hands grip his lapels, trying to stay upright, trying to stay focused, but it's too late for that.

"I just want you to know that I'm going to hate myself for this tomorrow," I say, tilting my head back as his mouth moves down my neck. "And I'm definitely going to hateyou."

"Same here, I assure you," he says, shoving the strap of my dress over my shoulder and putting his mouth against the curve of my neck, biting me there.

"Ow!" I say, grabbing him by the back of his hair and pulling his head up. "Watch it, Dracula."

"You owe me,Plokhoy kot,"he says, with a guttural chuckle that vibrates through my skin. He holds up his hand and sure enough, my bite mark is still visible on the heel of his hand.

Good.

"You deserved that," I say, pulling at his tie. "You were an unknown assailant. I was merely protecting myself."

He kisses me again as I yank his tie loose. It's in my way. I want to see his tattoos. Then, I tear his shirt open, it's expensive so I have to really yank on it and buttons go flying and what do I care? I'm not the one sewing them back on tomorrow.

I pull his shirt loose from his pants and ohyes… I smile in misty appreciation as I push it off his broad shoulders. Hedoeshave a hairy chest! I love that. The vivid lines of his tattoos are perfectly clear, so not too much chest hair, not like a sweater or anything just enough to tickle my nipples.

"Oh, that's so pretty," I sigh, drawing my fingernails down to his chest, enjoying how his abs clench when I dig in just a bit too deep. "All those muscles… big muscles sprouting baby muscles."

He laughs, uproariously this time, bracing his forearms on the wall on either side of me and dipping his head into my neck.

"Well, they really are," I insist, my fingers drawing back up again and circling his nipples, tugging on them experimentally. He growls and his knee goes between mine, pushing aggressivelyagainst my center. "Okay, that can't be real. I think it's like a flashlight or something."

"What?" he asks.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to blurt that out," refusing to accept that it's his dick.

"It's not a flashlight," he says, pulling his pants open and I put my hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs, and oh myGod, no. It's not a flashlight. I squeeze it experimentally, and he growls my name, his teeth biting down my neck.

Out of spite, I do the same thing, biting him hard on his shoulder, yanking his shirt back so I have a clear shot of that beautifully sculpted muscle. I bite it and I squeeze his dick at the same time.

His fist slams against the elevator wall."Fuck!"he roars, yanking his jacket and shirt off. His hand comes up and rips my dress down to my waist. His enormous hands grip my ass, squeezing gleefully.

"A perfect handful," he growls in my ear before his hands travel up to my breasts, ripping my bra down and squeezing them roughly. His eyes are dilated, nearly pitch black, and he's utterly fascinated by the sight of his fingers on my breasts. He pinches my nipples, and I yelp, squeezing his thigh between mine, mindlessly rubbing myself against him.

"I want to lick you," he growls.

"I want to suckyou,"I say, knowing I will regret admitting it later.