Page 54 of Devil's Retribution

“Oh God,” I mumbled again, my eyes stinging but staying dry.

“I know,” he murmured into my hair. “I know. I’m so very sorry to bring you this news. But I aim to bring you your revenge as well.”

I pulled away and looked at him. He was after his own revenge. His brother, murdered much more recently than my parents. But it seemed like his revenge and mine lined up far more neatly than I’d ever expected.

“He needs to die,” I said softly, resignation in my tone. I had worried for a while that this was Viktor’s intention all along, not ransom nor ruination, but a bullet in the brain.

Now I didn’t care.

He stroked my hair back from my face and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Yes. He absolutely does.”

At which point I would get the rest of my family’s money back anyway. And Uncle Charles could never do anything else to hurt me or my loved ones, because he would be in hell where he belonged.

“Are you all right?” he asked me, his tone almost tender. It got to me. I had seen him be terrifying before. But now, all of that was gone. He worried about me. He gave a damn.

I took his rugged, neat-bearded face in my hands and kissed him.

He froze for a moment, but then his arms twined around me and he kissed me back, a long, fierce kiss that I wasn’t quite ready for. The heat between us seemed to erupt, scorching away the pain of the truth, my rage at my uncle, everything. There was suddenly nothing but the two of us, arms around each other, lips sliding against each other, his warm breath on my cheek.

I heard the low rumble from his throat and felt the shudder go through him. His hands slid up and down my back. His mouth was hungry on mine. His fingertips slid my silk blouse over my skin, making me start to tremble.

Finally, he broke the kiss and looked at me, both of us panting slowly for breath. “I want you,” he said in a low, hoarse voice.

I nodded and leaned forward to kiss him again.

He stood unexpectedly, scooping me up, our lips still working against each other. I could barely see, but I felt him walking, felt him move into the warm stillness of my bedroom. He closed the door behind us and went over to the bed, laying me down gently on it.

Now that the dam had broken, I was suddenly impatient. I shucked off my silk blouse and reached for the buttons on his shirt, only to realize he was pulling the whole thing off along with his undershirt.

His body beneath was lean and hard, black hair covering his pectorals and lower belly, a roaring bear tattoo covering his entire shoulder. My fingertips traced the image, then slid down to feel the old, healed scars that crossed parts of his chest and abdomen. I wondered how many fights he’d survived. From the scars, it looked like dozens.

His kiss shocked me with its gentleness, after the firm strength of his hands on me, this subtler pleasure caught me by surprise. He bent over me, one hand on my nape, the other sliding up and down my bare belly as his lips and tongue caressed mine. I whimpered and pushed myself up on my elbows, intensifying the kiss. His answering rumble made me start to tremble.

I wanted this so badly that I ached. I’d been craving him for long days, ever since I had realized that he had no intention of harming us. But I had felt so guilty about that craving that I had done nothing. Not for fear of him, but for fear of what I would become if I let myself love him.

A little voice inside me still protested. What was I doing, kissing this killer? This gangster? The man had kidnapped me, scared me, scared Nick. The hands that caressed me now had pulled the trigger more times than I could imagine. The mouth that captured mine had ordered the deaths of many men.

There must be something wrong with me, I thought, a moment before his hand found my breast through the satin of my bra and started rubbing it familiarly. My eyes rolled closed. I felt electric pleasure roll down through my whole body with every stroke of his thumb across my nipple.

My pussy clenched just from that small sensation, I slid my hands up his sides and then over the tight muscle of his back. I wanted to feel his bare skin on mine so badly that it made me bold.

He stopped my hands as I reached for the belt of my skirt, taking over instead, unbuckling it and then unbuttoning the deep green wool. I lifted my hips eagerly as he slid it off me, pulling my half-slip with it.

I lay there in my underwear as he backed off to undress, watching as even more of his sleek, hard body was revealed. More tattoos, more scars, his body hard and chiseled from years of a fight I knew barely anything about. His boxer briefs bulged with the same excitement that made his breath shake.

He retrieved a condom from his pocket before kicking off his trousers. His eyes roved over me with an almost greedy look before he moved forward again to lean down and unfasten my bra. I helped, sitting up a little so his hands could get at it, he slid the straps off my shoulders and pulled it away, revealing my breasts to the open air. My nipples were already so tight that they hurt.

He swooped down and caught one nipple between his lips, then pushed forward to take in more, suckling roughly. I gasped loudly and dug my fingertips into his shoulders, eyesight going blurry before my eyes rolled closed. My back arched, my body pulsed with waves of tingling heat in time with his long, almost painful pulls. His hands slid under my back, lifting me to his hungry mouth. I sobbed, legs clenching around one of his as my hips started lifting in time with his mouth’s rhythm.

His hands explored me, touch firm and commanding, gripping and kneading my ass in time with his mouth’s attentions before switching breasts and sliding his hands up under the straps of my panties. He pulled them off my hips, I heard the fabric tear a little with his impatience.

I felt like I was going to climax just from what he was doing to my breasts, that wild intensity from the dream was nothing on this, even if it had woken me from a sound sleep. I gasped for breath, hands sliding down his back to his clenched ass, then tugging at the boxer briefs, trying to pull them down.

He chuckled against my breast and let me go suddenly, moving away, leaving me sheened in sweat and aching with sudden frustration. You stopped, I wanted to protest, but when I opened my eyes, I saw what he was busy with.

He’d just finished stepping out of his underwear and was tearing the packet, then rolling the condom onto his proud, stiff cock, which looked almost the size of my forearm. I whimpered, mostly excited but just a little bit worried. Could I take him?

He reached over and started kneading my pussy, sending a fresh surge of pleasure through me—and suddenly, as I raised my hips against his hand, I wanted to try more than anything in the world. “I want you inside me,” I managed to whisper, barely hearing myself over the pounding of my heart.

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