The Rule of Luck (24 page)

“That will
never
happen.”

“Monique said luck always seeks to preserve itself and find the best advantage. How can you be sure?”

“Because it won't.” His tone was stubborn and resolute. “I will see to it.”

I finally looked up at him. “What are we supposed to do now? How can you prove this even matters?”

He leaned down and kissed me then, crushing me to him. I returned the kiss, my body straining against his, my arms reaching to pull his head down closer to mine, not caring that his stubble scratched my face. Even with my boots on, I still went up on tiptoe to press closer. My mouth opened under his and I could taste the alcohol he'd been drinking. His hands slid down the backs of my thighs and he simply lifted me and wrapped my legs around his waist, molding my body to fit against his. As he carried me, his fingers slipped between my legs and pushed aside the material in his way, which wasn't much. He stroked me and I cried out and writhed against him.

We moved into the semi-darkened room. I had a sense of a bed behind me. He lowered me and I found myself on the edge of the mattress as he went to his knees on the floor. With swift movements, he removed my boots, then his hands drifted up my thighs, eyes on mine.

“Do you want this, Felicia?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. His hands rested on my hips under my dress, thumbs moving in lazy circles on my lower abdomen. It seemed his body vibrated with both desire and restraint as he waited for my answer.

“Using my name, I see,” I said instead, suddenly nervous. This was the plunge I'd been hoping for, yet fearing. After this, everything between us would change.

“You wanted this arrangement kept strictly professional. However…” He leaned in closer, his hands more insistent, the pressure on my hips increasing and making my body ache for his. “I don't believe it's professional any longer.”

“I don't think it was professional for more than five minutes.”

“Maybe not.” He offered a brief smile that faded quickly. The intensity returned. His eyes were on mine and refused to let go. “Are you certain you want this, because once this begins, I will not stop. No interruptions, no distractions. Even if the world falls down around us, nothing will stop this. I need to have you—all of you. You have no idea how much I want this.”

I nodded and swallowed, shivering at his words. “I want it too.”

“Good.”

He rocked me back until I lay stretched out on the bed with my legs dangling over the edge. He lay beside me, bracing himself on his forearm so that he hovered over me. Then he leaned in, his lips on mine again, opening my mouth with his tongue. Gods, the man knew how to kiss. Just his mouth on mine was enough to leave me senseless and oblivious to everything but him.

A hand strayed down my side, to my hip, then drifted between my legs. A finger slipped inside me, caressing gently. He made a pleased noise deep in his throat at finding me already soaked as I writhed against his hand, lifting my hips, desperate for more of his touch.

“Not yet,” he teased gruffly, sounding amused. “Do you know how long I've been thinking about what I'm going to do to you? We're not in a restaurant now, Felicia. Do you really believe I'd let it end so quickly again?”

I pushed my hips insistently against his hand. I was ready to explode
now
. “How long do you think you'll need?” I panted against his mouth.

“Difficult to say. Dawn is in a few hours. Check back with me then.”

He resumed the kiss, cutting me off in mid-thought. Not that I was really thinking anymore. Everything was focused on him and his body over mine. I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, truly feeling those hard, formidable muscles for the first time. I tried to pull him closer, but he pulled back, his lips sliding to my throat and leaving a trail of hot kisses as he made his way lower. I felt his teeth on my shoulder, biting gently while he kneaded my breasts, first one than the other, with his hand. My fingers were in his hair, urging him on impatiently as I squirmed; wanting his touch everywhere he could reach. When he moved on, I protested with a moan and tried to bring him back up to my lips. He resisted. Instead, he got up from the mattress and moved between my legs.

“We are doing this my way,” he murmured, his voice a soft purr as he stood over me.

“Let me touch you,” I begged. “Please, I need to feel you.”

“You will,” he promised. “But right now….”

His voice trailed off as his hands skimmed the hem of the dress. A moment later, I heard material rip as he tore it away. My panties followed just as quickly—perhaps even quicker—leaving me naked. I'd barely had time to brace myself.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed. “You're going to be hell on my wardrobe if you keep that up.”

His smile was wickedly sinful. “I'll buy you a dozen like it when we get home. But right now I need to see you. Need to feel you in my hands.”

The last was said as his lips found my breasts—he sucked and licked until both nipples were taut peaks and my laughter turned to gasps. His fingers easily coaxed my legs open until they were splayed wide and he kneeled on the floor. He caught my wrists one-handed, holding them captive above me, and used his other hand to drag my hips closer to the edge of the mattress. Then he looked up the length of me, the wicked smile on his lips turning my bones to liquid.

“As I said before, I've been thinking about this for too long so you'll have to indulge me.”

Before I could protest, his lips were gliding along my inner thigh. Then his mouth and tongue swept between my legs, moving with a skill no other man had ever managed. He placed my legs over his shoulders then held me firmly in place—one hand still holding my wrists, the other, my hip. His tongue teased me, licking deeply, and then circling my clit in rhythmic movements that would have driven my hips off the bed if not for his hand holding me still. And even that drove me with delicious need—my helplessness, his powerful control over my body, his skill as his mouth sucked greedily. I couldn't get away, couldn't touch him, and could only take what he allowed me to feel. It seemed I would explode or lose my mind from the assault of sensation, and a heartbeat later as his tongue speared into me with faster strokes, an orgasm tore through me. I shrieked with violent relief, bucking against him. The pressure between my legs continued, his tongue darting in again. I fought him, trying to get away. It was too much. I needed space. Instead, he let go of my wrists and lifted my hips in both hands to better position me. His tongue drove in again and sucked with tireless effort until I had a second, shattering orgasm that left me limp, panting, and unable to focus.

“Stop!” I begged. “I've never…I can't take any more.”

“Yes, you can,” was the answer, the words a growl against my thigh.

He was right. I could, and did several more times.

When he'd decided it was enough, all I could do was look up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, legs hanging over the edge of the bed, arms dead at my sides. I couldn't catch my breath and my heart beat wildly. I heard a deep, masculine chuckle and the rustle of fabric. A moment later, he loomed over me, hands braced on the bed by my shoulders.

I couldn't raise my head. In fact, I may have been delirious from too many orgasms if such a thing were possible. “You're finished already?”

He bent down, lips nuzzling my throat. “Actually, I've barely started.”

I raised a hand to trace his jaw, bringing his gaze to mine. “I want to feel you inside of me. Please.”

He held my eyes for a long moment. Then said, “What the lady wants, she gets.”

He gathered me up to lay me more fully on the bed. I rose up on my knees, my hands skimming along his chest to push his shirt off his shoulders. I leaned in to kiss him; he dipped his head to accommodate me, and I could taste myself on his lips. Knowing what he could do with his mouth was unbearably erotic, and I felt a new surge of heat at the thought.

When his hands moved to his pants, I stopped him.

“Let me,” I whispered, my fingers brushing his erection, which was clearly straining against the fabric. “I want to undress you.”

He stilled and his hands dropped to his sides, his breathing growing shallow as he waited. I made quick work of it, pushing them down over his hips. In the room's dim light, I was finally granted a view of Alexei Petriv in all his naked magnificence. I gasped softly. He was like some exquisite work of art. The tattoos did nothing to take away from the sculpted musculature, enhancing it instead. My hands drifted over his chest, his shoulders, down his arms, then to his abs and lower. All of him was hard, lean muscle, the opposite of my softness. Just feeling his body, feeling that strength and knowing how powerful he was, aroused me unbearably. I could feel my own wetness drip down my inner thigh; I wanted him so badly.

My hands drifted to his penis and cupped him, feeling the heavy weight. I couldn't help but make an interested hum as I explored, the hum both appreciative and a little daunted by the sheer size. It was impressive to say the least, throbbing in my hands as if it had a life of its own. I closed my fingers around him, barely able to hold that demanding thickness as he twitched. His breath came out in a hiss and his eyes drifted closed.

“Do you know how much it turns me on just to look at you?” I told him. “Do you know how badly I've wanted to feel you inside me? I wanted it from the first moment you walked into my shop,” I whispered, stroking him with one hand while kissing along the column of his throat. “When we were at your house and you had your hands on me, I thought I would go insane if I couldn't have this. Then you walked away and I wanted to die because all I wanted was the feeling of you, pushing inside me.”

He jerked in my hand and I felt a bead of pre-cum on my fingers. I grinned into his neck, feeling triumphant that finally I had power over him too. The feeling continued when he warned, “I'm not going to last if you do that.”

I gave his chest a long, slow lick of my own followed by a series of sharp, biting kisses. “I think that's the point.”

He grabbed my wrists, pinning them against my back, and lifted me up until my naked body brushed fully against his for the first time. I moaned, feeling his erection against my stomach, then lower where it settled between my thighs. The promise of all that power shafting up inside me left me whimpering and desperate to clutch at his body, to feel all of him pressed against me.

“I need you. Please, just take me,” I whispered.

“I think,” he said pointedly, “that we should get down to business.”

My breath came out in a sigh as he pushed me back onto the mattress with unsteady hands and followed me down. “I completely agree.”

Then he stopped, poised over me, and looked at me so long I began to feel self-conscious. “Stop that.”

“Just admiring the view,” he said, before sinking down beside me.

“I'm sure you've admired plenty,” I replied drily.

“No.” His voice grew husky. “Not like this. Not like you.”

When he kissed me again, it started slowly, sweetly. It wasn't enough. We'd moved long past sweet and I needed more. As if he could sense it, he took my hands in his, lacing our fingers together, and stretched my arms over my head. At the same time, he kicked my legs wide and settled his hips between them, pinning me to the mattress. I shifted restlessly under his weight, unbelievably aroused to feel him there poised against my opening, hard and ready to tear me apart as he'd promised earlier. I met his eyes in the semidarkness.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

The sentiment was so raw, so unexpectedly passionate, I felt tears rise. “Now,” I demanded instead, challenging him and lifting my hips. “I need you inside me now.”

That was all it took. In one solid thrust, he rammed into me as deep as he could go. I cried out as my body worked to accommodate his, filled almost to the point of discomfort. He went still, his body rigid over mine, both of us gasping, waiting, wanting. He was so big, so deep. I'd never felt so full before. Had never been so possessed by another man, or been claimed so completely.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered. I hadn't even realized they'd been closed and they flew open. His hips ground against mine and my body clenched around him. “I want to watch you. I need to see you come.”

I felt the strain in his entire body as he carefully pulled out. A second later, he slammed into me again, his width making me whimper. It felt so good, so raw, my body couldn't help but arch to meet his, my hips rising. Another thrust, just as hard and fierce as the first. Then another that left me breathless. His hips swiveled into me, melting me with every deep, shattering, plunge. Another thrust. Another, and I lost all sense of time or place as his body rode mine, owning me, hungrily demanding it meet his needs and work for his pleasure alone.

“Come for me, Felicia.
Now
,” was the command.

Helplessly I did, my body clutching his as I shuddered around him. The orgasm was so powerful, it left me wanting to bite him, claw at his back, anything that would give me an outlet for all that heat burning through me. But with my hands trapped in his, I could only take what his body gave. He threw his head back then, my orgasm finally bringing his. I felt him jerk inside me, his hips crashing into mine. His entire body went rigid after a final thrust so deep, I lost my breath as he shouted my name.

Finally he released my hands as he collapsed on top of me, the bulk of his weight falling to my left. My arms were numb, but I clutched him to me, afraid to let him go, desperate to make the moment last. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, and his hands held my hips so that when he moved, he wouldn't dislodge himself. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, mine keeping pace. His breath came in ragged pants and sweat coated us both.