Page 154 of White Wolf
She made a frustrated sound. “No. He made mewant. In general. And I wantyou.”
“Damn him.”
“Nik. He’sinside my head. Fuck me so I don’t have to think about him. Please.”
He couldn’t be in your head if I put a bullet in his, he thought. But she was reeling, and clinging to him. And vulnerable. And she was asking him.
“Yeah, baby.” He cupped her face in both hands, thumbed away the tear tracks on her cheeks. “Okay, yeah.”
She grabbed him by the back of the neck and tugged his head down. The kiss was a collision. Bruising, teeth crashing together. She made a hungry sound against his mouth and he was lost to it.
He knew they should have tried to find a bed, a solid door to hide behind, some scrap of privacy. But she bit his lip and he tasted blood, and all worry faded. She wanted him,neededhim, and she could have him. He wouldn’t ever refuse her.
She tackled him to the rug, assaulting him with kisses. They tore at their clothes, awkward and gasping. Katya bit at his throat, raked her nails down his chest. When he got her pants off, he found her hot, and swollen and dripping wet between her legs.
He rolled them, braced above her, and she was chanting “please, please” when he sank inside her without any preamble.
No foreplay, no grace. Just desperate fucking on the carpet.
Her need was infectious. He left hand-shaped bruises on her hips, sucked love bites into her neck, and the whole time she asked for “more,” scoring his back and shoulders with her nails.
The sound of their ragged breathing echoed off the bookshelves. Faster, faster, faster –
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think when he came. A sweeping tide of sensation that left him hollow and weak as a kitten.
He must have rolled off of her, because when awareness returned he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, her sweat-damp face pressed into his throat.
She sniffled, and he realized she was crying.
He lifted one heavy hand and cupped the back of her head, pulled her in tight to his side. “God, did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said, and choked back a tiny, pained cry.
Nikita shifted onto his side and gathered her close in both arms, trying to catch her eye. She stared at his chest, her hand splayed over his heart. There was blood under her nails.
“Katya.”
“You didn’t hurt me. You did exactly what I wanted you to.” She lifted her other hand and dashed at her eyes. “Nik, I’m sorry. He – he–”
“Shh, no. I’m sorry.” When she tucked her face into his throat, he stroked her hair, the trembling line of her shoulder. He didn’t know how to comfort her, and he felt helpless. Helpless, and, as always now, guilty. “I’msorry,” he told her. “If I hadn’t asked you to come with us, you wouldn’t be here now. With him.”
“You stupid man,” she said with a deep, watery sigh. “I’m upset. He made mewant him. So yes, I’mupset. But I love you, you idiot. You didn’t really think I was going to let you go off and try to save Russia without me, did you?”
He wanted to cry, but he wanted to smile, too, so that’s what he did. “I’m still sorry,” he murmured.
“Stop thinking you can control everything. You can’t.”
They lay there a moment, sweat cooling, little chills creeping over them.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asked.
“Can we go for a walk?”
“Absolutely.”
They got up slowly, wincing, realized just how badly they’d savaged one another in their passion. Their clothes were sticky with dried sweat, but they pulled them on anyway and slipped out the back door, into a muggy night that smelled of river water, and a day’s worth of lingering smoke from the tractor factory.
They walked slowly down the alley, toward the main road. Nikita thought maybe they should have been worried about being set upon, but he knew they’d left the scariest thing in this whole city behind in the house. He took Katya’s hand and she laced their fingers together. He traced the gun calluses on her palm with his thumb.
