Page 13 of Den of Thieves

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Karina strolled through the lobby of the penthouse building with an extra pep in her step. Her marriage was in a better place than she thought possible. Vladimir was more open with her now than she’d ever known him.

Her marital bliss couldn’t have come at a more frustrating time for her husband and his terrifying organization of thieves. She swore she saw a few premature gray hairs along his temple the other day. If she were being honest, it only made him more attractive, if that were possible.

Vladimir often talked strategy with Karina. He even went as far as using her ideas during their recon missions and raids. He drew the line at engaging her in the boots on the ground part, but it was nice to be involved.

And when their plans went off without a hitch, he would fuck her so good, she wore a stupid, lopsided grin on her face for days.

If Vladimir heard Karina enter the penthouse, he didn’t let on. She spied the back of his head in the living room. She added an extra sway in her hips as she sauntered around the sofa. If that didn’t let him know what she was in the mood for, nothing would.

She stopped when she realized Vladimir wasn’t reading the papers in his hand. His head dropped slightly back, a light snore falling from his lips.

He looked so peaceful, but Karina knew his back would ache something fierce if he slept like that all night. Her poor husband was so exhausted he was still fully dressed in his office clothes with papers strewn about. The only thing amiss was his loosened black tie and the light stubble dotting his jaw.

“Vladimir, baby, let’s go to bed.” She lightly caressed his temple before reaching down to remove his tie.

His large hands covered her and tugged, causing Karina to fall against his chest.

“Vlad!”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, opening those deep blue eyes.

Karina opened her mouth to respond when he tangled his hands in her hair and ravished her neck. She arched into him, nearly getting lost in his touch.

“I came here to tempt you, but what you really need is a good night’s rest.” She stood from his lap but paused when his eyes darkened.

“Are you saying I’m too tired to please my woman?”

Karina hid her smile as she backed away from him. “When a man gets less than 6 hours of sleep on average, his overall testosterone levels plummet.”

“Now I’m not man enough to please my woman?” Vladimir stood and crossed the room in two powerful strides.

One look at his determined face, and Karina was quickly regretting her teasing ways.

“Vlad—” she squealed when he picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. She held on tight, her core throbbing as he carried her to the bedroom.

“I will never be too tired to make you scream my name,” he growled, nipping at her lips.

God, she loved how deep his voice was when he just woke up.

“I was reading the shipyard’s yearly projection reports. They’re so boring anyone would fall asleep looking at them.”

Done with talking, Vladimir dropped Karina to the bed. She barely had time to scream out in shock before his imposing frame covered hers. She writhed in need as his hands palmed her curves.

He sat back and trailed a line of kisses down her legs, stopping only to take off her heels and toss them behind him.

“You changed the color,” he noted, admiring her toes.

Karina let out a desperate cry when he sucked her big toe into his mouth. Ever since he discovered how wet she got when he played with her feet, he tortured her until she was aching with need and a large the puddle ruined the sheets. How was she supposed to know her toes were an erogenous zone that shot a zap of electricity straight to her core?

“Do you want to know the name of this color?” Karina’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Fuck Me Pink.”

Vladimir paused, and she swore his eyes dilated further. She could almost see his dick print throbbing in his pants. He growled, forgetting her foot, and gripping the material covering her thighs.

“Don’t rip this dress. I need something to wear out of here,” she cautioned.

Every item she brought to the penthouse he ripped, broke, or rendered the clothing unwearable in his haste to get inside her. She was convinced he got some kind of sick pleasure out of her walk of shame in nothing but her underthings and his long coats the next morning.

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