He groaned and slid his hands around the backs of my thighs. I made a noise of protest against his mouth when I realized his intention. I was lithe but tall—I wasn’t light—and it was incredibly sexy how easily he lifted me. Wrapping my long legs around him, I reveled in how well our bodies pieced together. He squeezed the bare flesh of my thighs possessively, making an angry sound in his throat like he’d been thinking about them too much and was furious with me for it. A palm slid beneath my dress, grabbing a handful of my ass as he walked us to the couch and sat. I straddled his thighs, our mouths drifting apart so he could pull the dress over my head. The soft sound of fabric hitting the floor slowed the urgency of our movements. My skin prickled with goose bumps where he looked at me. The lacy hem of my thigh-high socks, the thin straps of my white thong, the shallow dip of my navel, and the way my breasts pressed against the edges of my matching bra with every breath. “Tdealnaya,” he said roughly. Perfect. He gripped the flare of my hips, palms sliding up. A soft sigh escaped me as the pressure of his touch ached between my legs. He ran a thumb over the yellowing bruise on my waist, eyes flickering with violence. All of the fight in me died like a breeze against a flame, leaving something heavy and softer in its place. His gentle caress wrapped around my heart and tugged it toward him. “You feel this too,” I breathed into his mouth. He bit my bottom lip and responded, “Shut up,” but there wasn’t any heat in it. He caressed the bare curves of my ass, the skin on skin liquefying every nerve within me. His lips traveled down my throat to the tops of my breasts, and he nipped the skin before sliding a rough hand beneath my bra to squeeze the flesh. Pleasure rushed to my core, and I hummed against his neck. “Pomni.” His lips pressed against my ear. “Ti eto prosila.” I didn’t get time to dwell on the Russian words because he unclipped my bra and pulled it off. My breasts felt heavy as cool air brushed them, and momentary shyness reared its ugly head. I didn’t know what I was doing with this man—if I’d get out of here in one piece, or if I even wanted to. The idea I might be in over my head sent a rush of nerves to prickle my