Lion of Midnight Page 9
Watching Nikolas through lowered lashes, Cleo shivered all over again. The sweat beads on his skin, the set of his jaw as he thrust inside her. There were damp strands of his hair plastered to his head. A body that, if she couldn’t feel the heat from, she would assume had been carved out of marble as it was just that hard. His arms were corded and powerful. A chest that had a dusting of blond hair on it, as well as defined abs. He truly was extremely handsome.
His eyes opened wide, and he sent her a bone-melting grin. She gasped when he let go of her hips and reached for her waist, drawing her up to him so they were once again chest-to-chest. Cleo tightened her legs around him. She reached around his broad shoulders and tangled her fingers in the damp hair at the base of his neck. Nose-to-nose, he held her. The heady mixture of their scents and sex filled the air.
“Nik,” she whispered, dropping her eyes to his lips. Is it wrong of me to long to feel them everywhere on my body?
“Yes?” he murmured as he continued to stroke her with his still-hard erection.
“I…I…I…” She trailed off as he leaned her back a bit, latching his mouth around one tight nipple. She bucked against him as him as his teeth grazed the sensitive tip.
“Saying something?” he questioned without releasing her breast.
“Don’t stop,” she half-moaned, half-begged. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he made love to her breast before laving a path to the second one and lavishing the same kind of attention on it. The fire began to burn deep within her core.
He spread one hand across her back for support, and his other teased and tormented the nipple not in his mouth. During all this, he never stopped his hips from delivering his cock deep inside her. Cleo dropped her head back and allowed the euphoria from his touch to flow over her. Her body tensed, and she began moving against him with more intensity. The desperation to find the bliss of fulfillment had her acting more wanton.
“Oh, God,” she panted, “please.” One hand left his hair to dig into the muscled expanse of his back.
The hand tormenting her breast slid between them, and she jerked sharply as his callused fingertips found her clit and began rubbing it. He rolled the nub in circles as his hips kept her full of his cock.
Her internal muscles clamped down on him as he moved within her. The fire in her veins burned even hotter as the orgasm roared over her with the power of an avalanche. He nipped the tip of her nipple as she exploded around him. Before she could come down from her high, Nik placed both hands back on her hips and began powering into her.
Faster and faster, he moved until he thrust forward one last time and erupted within her body. His low roar filled the room, vibrating her nipple and sending aftershocks through her still-trembling form.
Nik wrapped one hand into her disheveled hair and hauled her mouth to his. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It demanded her submission, primal and possessive. And, she gave it. His tongue swept through her mouth, touching everything it could.
He yanked back and watched her, his brown eyes so full of passion they were almost black. Determination was set along the planes of his face as he did. Cleo knew he had something to say, but he didn’t speak, just continued to burn her with his gaze.
Deep within her body, she could feel his cock begin to stir and harden. She whimpered with need and shifted on his lap. He brought one hand up to caress her cheek before he leaned forward and kissed her slowly, coaxing her tongue out to mate with his. Cleo sucked hard on his searching muscle as he gently laid her back on the mattress and made slow love to her.
αβ
Nik rolled over in bed, the smile already on his face. The early morning winter sun filtered in through the off-white sheers over the windows. He hadn’t slept without closing the heavy drapes for a very long time. Last night had been a gift from the gods.
He gazed down upon a still slumbering Cleo. The light kissed her skin, and his cock hardened. She lay on her side, facing him, and her thick lashes rested against smooth cheeks. Deep, even breaths causing the only movement of her body.
Cleo was an amazing lover. She’d given him all he’d asked for and then some. All night, they’d explored each other’s bodies, learning what the other liked. She was a very giving lover.
His cock pulsed again as her lips parted, releasing a seductive moan. Nik shifted against the sheets as he remembered how her pouty lips had curled around his shaft as he’d thrust between them into her warm, inviting mouth.
He could see the whisker burn along her neck from him. Beautiful. She stirred, and he reached out to tuck some hair behind her ear. Her big, soulful brown eyes were revealed to him as she woke. A soft smile turned her heart-shaped mouth up at the corners.
“Dobroye utro, Cleo. How’d you sleep?” His thumb skimmed her lips.
“Wonderfully,” she answered. Her sultry voice reached out and made him harder yet. “You?”
Better than I have my entire life. “The same.” He held her gaze, grateful she wasn’t acting shy or nervous after their night together. She smiled again and burrowed deeper into the thick comforter. “Still sleepy?” he asked as he stretched back beside her, stroking her exposed cheek.
A blush moved across her skin. “A bit.”
He fought back his arrogant smirk, knowing full well the reason she was sleepy. It wasn’t long ago that he’d allowed her exhausted body to slip into much needed slumber. Nik wanted to ravish her all over again, but he restrained himself.
“You rest. I’ll go make us some breakfast.” He could see her shock and amazement. Oh, baby. Get used to being spoiled. “I mean it, sleep. I’ll bring a tray up.” Before she could respond one way or the other, he leaned in close, kissed her tenderly, and climbed naked out of bed to go to his dresser for a pair of warm-up pants.
After he’d slipped on his clothes, he cast a glance back to his king-sized Renaissance court sleigh bed where Cleo lay snuggled beneath the thick garnet hued feather comforter. She was sound asleep. “Rest well, my love,” he whispered as he raked a hand through his hair before heading out the door and toward the kitchen.
A bit later, he stood before his door, carefully balancing a tray as he turned the latch to his room. Setting the overloaded tray on the sideboard, he faced the bed. A sharp chill seeped into him. The bed sat made and very empty.
Cleo was gone.
Hours later, Nik furiously swung his sword, feinting at the practice dummies in the training room beneath his home. He’d searched high and low for her, finding no sign at all. He’d almost believe it was a dream if his pillows hadn’t still contained remnants of the alluring concoction of scents Cleo wore.
“My woman!” he swore as he spun rapidly and dispatched the three bodies before him. He had stripped down to just his pants and boots. Sweat poured from him as he swung his razor-sharp blade with deadly accuracy and zero mercy.
Left. She just left! Pivoting, he jabbed back with his sword and stopped. Vassi stood near, just out of reach had Nik held his sword still as opposed to it being embedded into the chest of the fake opponent.
“What?” he snapped, glaring at the man who’d been with him for a very long time.
“You have a visitor, sir.”
A low rumble of anger lumbered up from his chest. “Send them away,” he ordered. Nik wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“She was most insistent, sir, on seeing you,” Vassi stated calmly.
She? His heart skipped a beat. Is she back? “I’ll be right there.” Turning back to the dummy with the sword in him, Nik yanked his weapon out. Rotating the hand holding it, he placed his other hand on the hilt as well before slicing the blade down sharp toward the motionless victim. Then, he faced Vassi again, not moving when the sound of the dummy hitting the floor filled the room. “It’s not Cleo, is it?”
“No, sir. It’s not your young miss.”
Striding past Vassi, Nik stopped at his scabbard and slid his blade home. My young miss? If she truly was, why’d she leave? “Tell her I’m on my way,” he said
.
“Very good, sir. She’s in the sitting room.” Vassi left as silently as he’d appeared. There one second and gone the next.
After a quick shower, Nik jogged easily up to the main floor of his home. Long strides took him toward the room. The heavy door already open, he stopped the second his foot hit the garnet Savonnerie beveled-edge wool runner at the doorway.
He noticed his guest. The woman stood in silence, her back to him as long pale fingers from one hand trailed idly along the dark wood mantle. The dancing light from the fire highlighted parts of her silver-gray fur coat as it lay tossed across the chairs by the fireplace. The woman herself was voluptuous and wore a red silk shirt with black pants. She spun on her boot heel, moved from the marbled floor and stopped when her feet touched the large lapis blue beveled-edge area rug, allowing their gazes to meet.
Nik remained where he was as his gaze met hers. A pair of arctic blue eyes peered at him from a familiar face. He knew her. Dipping his head in a rare show of respect, Nik said, “Milady.”
She smiled, transforming her face into a stunning portrait. “It’s been a long time, Nikolas Andreyevich.”
“Yes, it has, milady.”
With grace, she sat on the edge of a chair, her back ramrod straight. “I believe we have some things to discuss.” She nodded at a chair across from her. Nik took the hint and lowered his body onto the seat cushion. He waited for her to begin, knowing it was pointless to rush her.
Chapter Nine
Cleo sighed as the bus carried her toward St. Petersburg. Her thoughts drifted back to the man whose bed she’d spent the night in. It hadn’t been long after Nik told her to go to sleep when a knock had come to the door. Her day had gotten strange after that. Vassi had arrived to tell her a car waited for her. Shocked and more than a bit surprised, she’d gone with him. She’d assumed Nik was coming back; apparently, he’d changed his mind somewhere along the line. So, now, she sat in the back of a bus, partially dozing as she listened to snatches of Russian conversation around her. With a small yet sad smile, Cleo watched the snowy landscape stream by.
Dark brown eyes bored into her from beyond the bus window. Nik. A litany of “what if’s” ran through her mind. She clamped her thighs tight as she ground her teeth together, fighting the pulse of longing his memory brought her. His touch, his scent, the pleasure he gave her. Her pussy throbbed with longing, and she shifted against the cloth seat.
With a groan of frustration, Cleo took out her iPod and allowed the music to offer up a distraction from her recollection from the handsome Russian. A man who’d shown her more passion and love in a single night than she’d gotten all her years of marriage. And, at the beginning of that, Cleo had been head-over-heels in love with David. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand it. Maybe I’m just feeling extra lonely, with Christmas being so near and all.
Licking her lips, she rested her head against the seat, smiled at a small boy grinning at her, and turned her attention back to the pristine whiteness along with the low beat of her various collection of music. For the remainder of the ride, her mind remained blissfully devoid of images or flashbacks of Nikolas Andreyevich. As they pulled into the station, she felt the flutter of excitement fill her belly. A new adventure was before her.
Following the flow of people, Cleo exited. She sucked a sharp breath as the cold air penetrated her, quickly replacing the warmth she’d had on the bus. People were embracing one another, and the sight brought a smile to her face. She waited out until her bags were unloaded from the belly. With a small smile of thanks, Cleo grabbed her luggage and headed for the door leading to some much-desired heat.
“Miss Laurens.” A voice pulled her attention from the glass door before her. Turning her head, she noticed a woman dressed in all black, holding a sign with her name printed in bold, black lettering.
“Yes?” she said, fully facing the woman.
“I’m here to take you to your hotel. Let me get your bags.”
“I’m fine. Excuse me for asking, but how’d you know I was on the bus?”
The woman flashed a kind smile before opening the trunk of the town car. “We checked yesterday, as well, but when you didn’t show, we came again today.”
Cleo felt the heat rush up her cheeks as the memory of her night flashed before her mind’s eye. Nikolas. Her pulse accelerated at the mere thought of him.
“Yes…well…something came up.” Over and over, again. Jesus, Cleo. Get a grip!
A light chuckle left the driver. “Yes. That can happen here.” She took Cleo’s bags and set them in the large trunk before slamming it shut. Meeting Cleo’s gaze, she added, “Makes the trip worthwhile, to do things unexpected.” One gloved hand opened the door of the car.
Grateful, Cleo slid across the smooth leather of the seat. A sigh escaped as the heat began to sink in. Before long, they were traveling along the streets of St. Petersburg, and the warmer she got, the more her excitement increased. A small gasp left her as the vehicle drew to a halt before a large building.
“This can’t be right. I don’t have a reservation here.” Even as she spoke, a man in fine attire and a matching hat headed for the car.
“Good afternoon, Miss Laurens,” he said as he held the door for her.
Confused, Cleo glanced to her driver. The woman gave her an encouraging smile. Exiting the car, Cleo accepted the hand offered her and noticed another identically attired man getting her bags. She walked toward the large entrance with an ornately carved emblem above them. The frosted glass giving an even more alluring feel to the building.
“This is beautiful,” she commented in awe.
The man who’d helped her out of the car now held open one of the doors for her. Inclining her head slightly, she smiled. “Thank you.”
Reaching into her pocket for some rubles, she stopped when he said, “It’s been taken care of, ma’am.”
“Okay,” she said, a bit unsure. Cleo picked up her pace, only to halt suddenly. The interior was so amazing it literally stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t know where to look first.
“Welcome, Miss Laurens,” a tall blonde said with a kind smile. “Your room is ready if you’d care to follow Alexi.”
Signing the register, Cleo returned the smile. “Thank you.” Soon, I’ll wake up and find this is all a dream. But until then…she was going to enjoy it.
The walk up the curved staircase passed in silence, allowing her to recall another place she’d stayed with a similar set of steps. Nikolas Andreyevich. Shaking off the memory, Cleo stared at the opulent decorations.
“Your suite, ma’am.” He held the door.
What breath she had escaped in a rush as she stepped past her escort. It was a split-level room, boasting light gray carpeting and wallpaper done in pale blues and greens. Impressive art graced the walls and there sat a fireplace with leather furniture around it.
This can’t be right.
“Stasia will be in soon to unpack your bags.” He nodded. “Enjoy your stay, ma’am.” Then, he was gone.
Cleo moved up the stairs where she found a king-sized bed. A peek over the balustrade gave her a lovely view of the downstairs. “If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake.” She looked in the bathroom and found ceramic tiles and gold accents with a large Jacuzzi. Heading back to the curved balustrade, Cleo paused for a second. “This has to be a mistake,” she said heading back downstairs. “I know I didn’t get this room.”
Pausing by a large window in the room, she looked down at the atrium. The upstairs window gave her a view out over St. Petersburg. And now this. A knock on the door pulled her gaze away. She opened the door to find a stunning young woman standing there.
“I’m Stasia. Is there anything I can help you with before I unpack your bags?”
“No. Thank you.”
A short time later found Cleo on the fifth floor running on a treadmill in the hotel’s fitness center. For the moment, she was the only one there aside from the personal trainers who
stood together. It didn’t take long and she was lost in the pounding rhythm of her steps.
After working out, Cleo went back to her suite for a shower before turning her attention to what to do for dinner. Stepping from the bathroom with its heated floors, wrapped in her thick robe, Cleo moved to the bed and sat at the foot of the thick mattress.
Stasia had put all of her clothes away, so Cleo padded to the dark cherry armoire and opened it to see what her options were. Cleo dressed in a sweater and slacks then hung her robe back in the steamy bathroom and walked to the stairs.
A shiver skated across her skin, and two steps from the bottom, she stopped. This level was dark except for the glow given off by the fire and a soft light at the other end of the room. Near the leather chair by the fireplace, staring in her direction, was Nikolas Andreyevich.
Her breath caught in her throat. The light gleamed off the hair sticking out from under his hat. Nikolas stood there, more imposing than she imagined possible. Cleo’s legs trembled as her gaze moved over him. As she stood, frozen, he approached her. Every movement screamed untamable power and raw masculinity.
When he stepped into the illumination filtering down the stairs, she took in his attire. He wore a charcoal pinstripe suit. The blazer was unbuttoned, showing off the matching vest. Beneath that, he wore a merlot-hued shirt, and the sateen tie matched the suit. A kerchief the same color as his shirt sat stuffed in the left pocket of the blazer. His right hand rested in a pocket of his single pleat pants.
Cleo swallowed and licked her lips. Damn! Her body responded to his presence as it had when at his home.
His brown eyes burned her. “You left,” he said in a graveled tone. Reaching for her, Nikolas lifted her off the stairs and placed her on the floor after sliding her down the hard expanse of his body.
She bit back a whimper of longing. One touch. One bloody touch from him was all it took to send any logical thought vanishing into thin air. His mouth lowered to hers, and she sighed as their lips met. Cleo melted into his chest as fire flowed through her veins and licked at her skin. It was like coming home, being in his embrace.