Page 150 of Lethal Alliance

“I don’t need to share their name to love them.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “And I want them to be proud of who they are. From what you’ve told me, Mikhail was like a brother to you. I want them to know who he was and to associate their name with honor, rather than with that treacherous snake Yuri.”

Roman grins. “You’re a savage little thing when you want to be,milaia, aren’t you?”

“I am when it comes to the people I love.” I touch his lips with my own, the briefest kiss, but enough to send flames through my body. “And I will be proud to take the Borovsky name,” I whisper, trailing my lips down his neck, reveling in his husky groan as my tongue touches the soft place beneath his jaw. Then I pull back, frowning. “Wait.”

Roman is already pulling off his T-shirt, eyeing my body hungrily. “Done waiting.”

“Changing your name is going to take time. We’ve got less than two days—”

“Darya.” He gives me a wry look as he throws his jeans over the chair. “I just killed a man in broad daylight in one of Spain’s biggest prisons. Do you honestly think I’ll have trouble getting my name changed on a Saturday?”

“Well, I guess when you put it like that—oh!” I gasp as he lifts me suddenly, wrapping my legs around his waist, and walks me toward the bed.

“You’re so hot and wet.”

I moan as he murmurs in my ear, his cock throbbing against my slick heat.

“I’ve been thinking about taking this pussy the entire way home.”

I moan again as he pulls me hard against him, still standing, letting me writhe on his palms, squirming with the need to have him inside me.

“Give me your mouth,milaia.” His kiss is as hot and urgent as his cock against me, driving all coherent thought from my mind. His big hands cradle my ass, his thumb slipping inside me as he kisses me on and on. He groans with satisfaction as he probes my hot depths, then runs his thumb up to my swollen bud. I cry out into his mouth, clinging to him as he strokes me closer and closer to the brink.

“Not yet.” He lowers me to the bed, spreading my legs wide and positioning himself between them. His hand slips between us, and I gasp as his thumb presses me again, his long fingers manipulating my entire core. “I think you need my mouth here,” he murmurs in my ear. My body leaps in response. He takes each nipple in his mouth as he passes them, making me buck beneath him. Then his mouth covers me, his clever tongue slips into the places only he can find, and my mind leaves the building.

My hands are in his hair, my hips arching off the bed. He holds me firmly, tonguing me with the slow intensity that drives me insane, but never quite allowing me to reach the peak.

“Ah!” My cries are building with each pass of his tongue.

Then his mouth leaves me. “Oh! Roman!” I grasp for him, desperate with need.

“We need to soundproof this fucking room,” he growls, and I giggle between my cries.

Then he surges into me, muffling my scream with his hand as he fills me completely.

“Blyat.This pussy,” he groans, driving into me with slow, sure strokes, hooking his arm under my leg to allow him better access. “So tight. So goddamn hot.”

His mouth finds mine as he surges inside me, building the pace slowly, bringing me with him as he heads for the pinnacle. “I want to hear you come,milaia,” he says roughly into my ear. “I want to feel that pussy clench around me—ah!”

His words throw me over the edge, my body seized with a fierce grip of pleasure, making me scream into his hand as I shudder against him. He holds his cock deep inside me as I spasm around him, and I can feel the savage control he’s exerting.

“The feel of you on my cock,” he mutters hoarsely. “The way you come—Christ.” I grab his ass, forcing him deep into me, and he finally lets himself hit the hard, fast strokes that bring him over the edge with a roar and tumble me into a fresh wave of sensation.

47

ROMAN

The field beside the finca has been transformed into a wonderland of wildflowers, woven through the wooden chairs and strewn across the carpet that leads to the arch of flowers where I wait, Mickey at my side.

The congregation is enough to give Interpol a heart attack. There’s the geek squad, of course, headed by Pavel, wearing a ridiculous suit that should be burned at the first opportunity. All of my men are in attendance, or at least those who aren’t working security, including a pale-faced but still-smiling Bryce. The members of Mak’s team who fought for us in Miami. Alexei’s closestvor, all of whom look as grim faced and hard as theirpakhan.

I invited only a few members of the Mercura board, and not all came. I’m mildly surprised, and a little touched, to see Zinaida Melikov among those faces. As ice-cold and stunning as ever, she nonetheless gives me a small smile of something almost like approval when I pass her in the aisle.

I’m guessing she heard about Yuri’s demise.

Off to the side, overlooking the valley, long tables covered in white linen and wildflowers stand in a clearing of holm oak, a seamless blend of comfort and natural beauty. The late-afternoon sun turns everything to a mellow, buttery hue. Later, a sea of twinkle lights will turn it into a magical playground.

I stand beneath the arch of flowers, Mickey at my side, as the cellist begins to play. Masha appears first, clad in a white linen dress and open sandals, flowers threaded through her mass of curls, which have been semi-tamed—by my mother, I imagine—into sweet ringlets that tumble down her back. She looks around curiously at the crowd, then sees Mickey and me, and her face lights up in a beam that makes the congregation sigh. She walks down the carpet, tossing handfuls of pink petals around her.

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