Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(91)

Her sleep was interrupted all at once as a large hand slid over her mouth to stifle her cry of surprise. A masculine voice rasped against her ear. “I have some unfinished business with you.”

Eleven

Tasia's eyes flew open, and she blinked at the shadowed face above her. Realizing it was her husband, she relaxed beneath him, though her heart drummed rapidly. His hand lifted.

“Luke—”

“Shhh…” His mouth covered hers in a searching kiss.

“How did you get in here?” she gasped, twisting her mouth free. “Colonel Radkov told me the security was being tightened, and I could have no more visitors—”

“Nikolas countermanded his orders. We're locked in together for the night.”

“But why would Nikolas—”

“Later. I've got to have you now.”

His crushing weight came over her, and all questions dissolved in a rush of excitement. It seemed like months since she had been with him, and it felt so good, his weight lowering over the bedclothes to hold her in place, his mouth hot and plundering. Tasia moaned in her throat and struggled to free herself from the confining sheets. He continued to kiss her, licking, teasing, sealing his lips over hers. Through the layers of his clothes and the linen sheets, she felt the shape of him rising hard and urgent against her. She pressed upward in demanding undulations, pleading for his possession.

Luke lifted himself to pull at the bedclothes, revealing her slender upper body covered in a thin chemise. He dragged his parted lips over her exposed skin and followed the edge of cambric as she pulled it down with her trembling hands. His head moved over her bared br**sts, finding the soft peaks, sucking with gentle tugs of his mouth.

They strained together, undressing, touching, striving to press skin against skin. Luke was half-clothed, his shirt gaping open, one leg still encased in his trousers, when he entered her with a hard thrust. Tasia gasped at the twinge of pain, her body yielding to the relentless male force. He kissed her throat, her jaw, waiting until she had adjusted to him, and then he pressed deeper within her, making her groan with pleasure. Her hands moved over the backs of his shoulders and gripped the muscled surface.

He rolled over, his hand firm on her back. Tasia straddled his h*ps and braced herself on his long body. She sought the perfect angle, pressing all her weight on the luscious point of their joining. She rose and pushed down again, pleasured by the gliding heat within her. Obligingly he followed the rhythm she set, his eyes a sapphire gleam in the darkness as he watched her.

She squirmed on top of him, riding the steady movement, taking fierce delight in having all his strength and power captured beneath her, caught fast between her thighs. She slowed the pace, tormenting him and herself, while each driving thrust pushed her closer to the edge of ultimate sensation. Suddenly it overtook her in a blaze of sweet agony. She tensed and trembled, desperately biting her lips to hold back a whimper. Luke clamped his hand around the back of her neck to pull her head down, muffling her cry with his lips. He buried his sound of fulfillment in her mouth as he pushed upward in one last surge. Drained and satisfied, he relaxed in a sprawl, while Tasia lay heavily on his chest.

After a while she stretched with a dreamy sigh and removed her chemise and the rest of Luke's clothes. He lay there like a spoiled sultan accepting the ministrations of a favored concubine.

“You don't know how much I've missed this,” Tasia said, tossing his shirt to the floor. She lowered herself to his chest again, lightly dragging the tips of her br**sts over the hard, bare surface.

Luke grinned and began to play with her long hair. “I have some idea.” He drew the feathery ends of her hair over his chest and neck, then tickled her shoulder. “You're getting very good at it. I think I'd better take you back to England with me. A talent like yours shouldn't be wasted.”

“I agree,” she said wistfully, pressing her lips to his warm skin. “Let's go right away.”

“Tomorrow night,” Luke replied, turning serious. Before she was able to reply, he told her about everything that had happened, and the plan he and Nikolas had conceived on the ride back to the Angelovsky Palace.

Tasia listened in silence, trying to sort through a confusing mixture of emotions. She felt relief and hope that perhaps there was a chance for her to continue the life she had begun with Luke in England. But more than anything, she was filled with a sense of injustice at what had been taken from her.

“I'll be glad to leave Russia,” she said bitterly. “I was sorry to go the first time, but not now. It's my country, my home…but all I've ever seen was the beautiful facade. I never realized how everything was rotting underneath. How many people have been sacrificed for the ‘greater good’? There's no future here. They say we are all children of the tsar. They call him Batushka, father of all the Russias, a benevolent parent who loves and protects us as God does. It's all a lie, a fairy tale invented to make it easy for a greedy few to take advantage of the many. The tsar and his ministers, and all the families like mine and the Angelovskys…they don't care about Russia. They just want to make certain that nothing threatens their comfortable lives. If I manage to leave here, I'll never come back, even if I have the chance someday.”

Hearing the pain and anger in her voice, Luke tried to comfort her. “One of the most painful things in life,” he murmured, “is having your illusions taken away. Don't think it's only here that people take advantage of others. It happens everywhere. Even the most honorable men are capable of cruelty and betrayal. It's human nature…there's dark and light in all of us.”