Vitoria

I would do anything to get Mama home from the hospital in good health.

Even if it meant having to work for the Audaz gang. Besides, they just wanted me to seduce some Russian pig and steal information about his organization.

Of course, I never expected that ‘Russian pig’ to be someone like Dmitry.

Caring, sexy, muscular, tattooed and oh so charming…how could I possibly resist?

Well now the stakes have risen, and I’m going to have to make a decision between my family and my love.

It should be an easy choice though…right?

Dmitry

When your family is part of the Russian mafia, and you own the most exclusive club in Barcelona, no one messes with you, and everyone wants to be with you.

I’ve become accustomed to getting what I want around here, especially when it comes to the ladies.

Then she walked into my life. Vitoria, a smart, funny, gorgeous girl with the heart of a saint. 

What can I say, I was really falling for this one.

But she’s wound up in some serious trouble with the rival gang that could end up being the death of us both.

At least that’s what they think. I’ll protect her no matter what.

They have no idea who they’re f***ing with!

Chapter One – Vitoria POV

I grabbed my bags off the luggage carousel and walked out to meet my driver. As we drove through Barcelona, I could feel my body relaxing. It had been too long now since I’d been back to the city of my childhood. For the past few years, I hadn’t even been back for vacations; instead, my parents had come to meet me in different places abroad, trying to keep me from the city in any way that they could.

I knew their intentions were good. With Papa involved with the Audaz gang, he wanted to make sure that I was safe. That I never had to show where my loyalties lay. But I hoped they would finally realize that I was a grown woman and that I could handle the consequences of my actions.

Of course, they wouldn’t be as concerned with me at the moment, I thought darkly. Mama had come down with some disease that I had never heard of before, and it had put her in the hospital for the past month, her condition gradually worsening. I hadn’t known about any of it until the previous weekend; as soon as Papa had admitted it to me, I had booked my flight home.

I went straight to the hospital, instructing the driver to bring my luggage home and then circle back to pick me up. I should probably talk to Papa before I visited Mama, but I couldn’t find it in me to be patient. My biggest flaw, Mama had always said.

I paused in the doorway at the hospital, staring down at Mama. She looked pale and weak, her hair tangled against the pillow. I slowly sat down at the bedside, reaching for her hand and grimacing at how dry and cold it felt. Mama’s eyes flickered open as I tugged the blanket higher around her chin.

“Ah, mi hija,” she murmured, sounding like a ghost of her former self.

“Mama,” I whispered, overcome by emotion. I wasn’t going to lose her. The doctors said there were treatments for this. Expensive ones, but the cost didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to lose her. “I’ll get a job,” I told her fiercely. “I’ll help out with the payments. Papa doesn’t need to shoulder all of this on his own.”

Mama smiled, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “My brave, proud daughter,” she said. She pushed herself up against the pillows. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, but there was nothing I could say in response to that. She had to know exactly how bad it was.

“There are treatments, though,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” Mama said, but she looked away from me, her expression guilty. “Your papa has had some hard times with his business lately. He didn’t want to tell you. But I’m afraid that the treatments are…out of the question.”

“No!” I said, shaking my head vehemently, refusing to believe it. “Mama, there must be some way.”

“There is,” a deep, male voice said from behind me.

I spun around to see my father’s friend Roberto, giving me an appraising look. Slowly, I rose to my feet. Mama looked less than happy to see him there. “Roberto Diego Ruiz, tu diablo,” she hissed, but that seemed to be all that her strength would allow for the day. I watched her eyes drift closed and worriedly looked to make sure she was still breathing, that her chest was still rising and falling normally.

Then, I let out a long breath and turned to Roberto. “Maybe we should talk out in the hallway,” I suggested.

Roberto inclined his head towards me and led the way. “University has agreed with you,” he said as he scanned my body.

I grinned at him and shook my head. “Roberto, you old rascal. You’re still my father’s best friend, remember.”

Roberto snorted. “It’s good to see you back in Barcelona where you belong, though,” he said. He paused. “As for the matter of your mother’s medical bills…Audaz is fully prepared to step in and pay for these treatments that she requires.”

I stared at him, wondering just what Papa had done to warrant that. But in a flash of understanding, I realized that it wasn’t about what Papa had done. No, there was a reason that Roberto was here to meet me the second I arrived in the city.

I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. My parents had never wanted me to get involved in Audaz, and for good reason. They were one of the most powerful gangs in Spain. I would never be free from them once I got involved—they’d ask for one favor, and then another smaller favor, and sometime five years from now, they’d expect me to, I don’t know, rob a bank or kill a man.

Well, probably not. I didn’t really know what they were involved in, but I knew a lot of it was just petty crime, some weapons deals, maybe a drug deal or two. Stuff that the authorities could look the other way on. But I wasn’t about to ruin my life by joining up with them.

Still, when it came down to it… If this was the only way to save my mother, I didn’t really have a choice.

I glanced back towards the closed hospital doorway. Through the window, I could see Mama sleeping there, her body frail and her expression tired as her body fought this strange disease. She was wasting away, and soon, no treatment in the world would be able to save her.

I turned back towards Roberto. “What do you need me to do?”

Roberto grinned at me. “I always appreciate practicality in a woman,” he said. He glanced around the hallway and then pulled me along into an empty room. “This isn’t the sort of thing we should be discussing in public.”

I swallowed hard, even though I knew what I was getting myself into with Audaz. “Right,” I said.

“What do you know about the Volkov family?” Roberto asked.

I frowned, trying to place the name. But it didn’t ring any bells. I shook my head, and Roberto laughed.

“Your parents really did a good job keeping you away from Audaz business, didn’t they?” he asked. He shook his head. “The Volkov family is a rival gang. Russian mob. They’ve been doing their best to take over Barcelona. But of course, we can’t let that happen.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Russians are trying to take over Barcelona?” I asked in disbelief.

Roberto clucked his tongue. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can figure out why,” he said. “What industry in this city could the Russians possibly be interested in?”

I thought for a moment. “Tourism,” I finally said slowly, thinking of everything that I knew about the Russian mob, most of which information came from watching Hollywood movies. “They must be involved in the club scene.”

“We’ll make a member out of you yet,” Roberto said proudly.

I shook my head but didn’t fight him on that for the moment. “But why Barcelona? Why not Ibiza or Mallorca or somewhere?”

Roberto shrugged. “All I know is that they’re trying to encroach on our territory. We have it on good authority that they’re preparing to launch an offensive against us. Unfortunately, our inside spy was caught and executed, leaving us with a dangerous dearth of information. That’s where you come in.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “If you’re suggesting that I disguise myself as a Russian and infiltrate their gang, I’m afraid that could take a while,” I told him. “I don’t speak a word of Russian, and I’ve heard it’s a difficult language to learn…”

Roberto laughed. “It’s admirable that you would think to try. But I have something much simpler in mind.” He pulled a printed photo out of his pocket. “This is Dmitry Volkov, the nephew of the mob leader. He’s a few years older than you and quite the player.”

I frowned at Roberto, trying to figure out what he wanted from me. “You’re not asking me to kill him, are you?” I whispered.

Again, Roberto laughed. “Of course not, darling,” he said. “If we wanted that, he’d be dead already. But his death wouldn’t help us figure out their plans, would it?”

I shook my head mutely. Then, I suddenly understood. “You want me to get close to him. To get him to spill his secrets.” I mulled it over. “You want me to take him out clubbing and get him drunk?”

“A good idea, but it would take a lot to get a Russian drunk,” Roberto said. “I was thinking more that you might…entice him. As I said, the man is a known player. Get him to take you out on a date. Get him wrapped around your finger.” He gave me another lewd once-over. “I’m sure you know what to do.”

I stared at Roberto for a moment. “You want me to seduce him, get him to trust me, and then steal the Volkov secrets,” I said slowly. It wasn’t a bad idea. And as much as I didn’t like the idea of being involved with Audaz, this wasn’t such a bad plan. They weren’t asking me to do anything illegal. But—

“If I do this, you’ll pay my mother’s medical bills?” I asked. “All of them, until she is fully recovered.”

“You have my word,” Roberto said, putting a hand over his heart. “I know how important family is. We are all Catalan.”

I paused. “And this wouldn’t make me a member of Audaz? Once I’ve done this, I don’t have to do anything else?”

“Oh no, no, no,” Roberto said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do that to your father.”

I considered the plan. I wasn’t thrilled to pretend to date some Russian pig, for however long this took, but I’d do anything to help my family, and this could be the best way. We needed that money now, and if Audaz was willing to help...

“All right, I’ll do it,” I said. I’d just have to make sure that neither of my parents found out what I was up to. I was sure the shock would drive my mother to her grave—it would break her poor heart if she thought that everything she’d ever protected me from was ruined, all by her illness.

“Perfecto,” Roberto said, grinning toothily at me. “I’ll give you the address to our headquarters so that you can come by and learn more about Dmitry and the Volkovs.”

Chapter Two – Dmitry POV

Finding enough good beets to make proper borscht was difficult in Barcelona. The city wasn’t exactly known for using the root vegetable in its cuisine. But we were having a family dinner the following night, myself and my brothers Nikolay and Andrei, a couple cousins, and a couple uncles and aunts. I had volunteered to bring the borscht since it didn’t involve much work—not like bringing pelmeni or some of the other dishes that would be on the table. But I hadn’t thought about how many beets I would need to track down.

I visited my third market of the day and finally managed to find what I needed, in one of the stalls at the back. I breathed out a sigh of relief and filled my bag.

I loved living in Barcelona. It had been my home for three years now, and I never got tired of the beaches and the beautiful weather. But there were certain things that still made me miss home.

I missed hearing Russian all around me. My English was decent by now, but I still had very limited knowledge of Spanish. And I missed the heavy, hearty food. Spanish cuisine could definitely be tasty, with its tapas and seafood platters and tortilla. But it wasn’t the same.

What I missed most of all, though, were the women. A sexy Russian woman, with long, pale legs and immaculate makeup and attire. Not that the Spanish women weren’t attractive as well, but they were different. They were tanned, and there was something a bit more wild about them.

As though summoned by my thoughts, one of those sexy Catalonian women suddenly collided with me. I grunted and reached out automatically to steady her, raising an eyebrow in surprise when I saw how beautiful this particular specimen was. I was around attractive women pretty regularly—from Ritmo, the club that Uncle Evgeni and the family owned, to the beaches. But every once in a while, a woman came along who made all those other women look just like girls.

“I have to apologize for my clumsiness,” I told the woman, even though she had been the one to run into me. I bowed over her hand and lightly kissed it, like something out of a medieval story.

The woman blinked at me and then giggled, looking embarrassed. “It’s my fault,” she told me, shaking her head. “I was in a hurry, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

I looked down, expecting to see bags of produce knocked flying, but she didn’t seem to have purchased anything. For a moment, that struck me as strange: she was back in the far corner of the market and in a hurry, but she didn’t appear to be shopping? But maybe whatever it was she was looking for, she hadn’t been able to find there.

Anyway, what reason did I have to be suspicious? Pickpocketing was common in Barcelona, sure, but I knew my wallet was still in my pocket—after a few years with the mob, I would have noticed even the most skilled thief trying to take it—and even if she did come after my wallet, I could easily incapacitate her. We were in a mostly deserted aisle at the moment, so it wasn’t as though a friend of hers could rob me while she distracted me.

No, she posed no threat.

“Where is a gorgeous woman like you rushing off to?” I asked teasingly. “Don’t you know that time stops for a face like yours?”

The woman giggled again, ducking her head shyly and looking up at me through her long, dark lashes. “Tell that to my professor,” she said.

Again, those strange alarm bells in my head. I frowned. “You’re running through the back of the market to get to a class?” I asked.

“Shortcut,” she said. “That woman over there, Giulia, she’s an old friend of mine.” She raised her arm and waved, and sure enough, the older woman waved back. “She lets me in through the back door to the market—the one they use to take out the trash. I cut out two streets that way.”

“That makes sense,” I said. I frowned. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you, if you’re already going to be late to your class…but perhaps I could take you out for coffee afterwards?”

The woman looked at her watch and sighed. “Honestly, I am already too late for this lecture,” she admitted. “If I show up now, the professor probably will not even let me into the room.” She tossed her long, curly brown hair. “I’m not usually late. But this morning I was visiting my mother in the hospital, and I wasn’t ready to leave…”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I paused and cocked my head to the side. “Well, if you’re not going to go to your class, maybe I could take you out to coffee now? It sounds like you could use something to take your mind off…some things.”

“I’d like that,” the woman said. She held out a hand. “My name is Vitoria, by the way.”

“I’m Dmitry,” I told her.

“You’re Russian, aren’t you?” she asked curiously.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. I grinned crookedly. “What gave it away—the accent or the name?”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, you probably hate having people ask you about it. I just don’t expect to see many Russians in Spain!”

“We come for the beaches and stay for the women,” I told her, winking.

She laughed again and linked her arm in mine. “I know a great little coffee place near here,” she told me.

“Lead the way,” I said, already plotting how I could get her from the coffee shop to my beachfront mansion and into bed. Sometimes, the Catalonian women were tricky. They had a lot of pride, and they weren’t always ready to jump into bed right away. They needed to be wooed.

But after three years, I knew how to woo them. I’d take her out for a nice dinner on my yacht—maybe I’d even cook for her. We’d stare out over the lights of the city, picking out the spires of La Sagrada Familia, the W Hotel, the office buildings. I’d brush her hair back off her shoulders and remark how lovely she looked, and then we’d kiss. She’d melt under my ministrations until she was begging me to fill her.

It was another reason I missed Russian women. The chase, with these Spanish women, was always the same.

Maybe Vitoria would surprise me though. I could hope so, anyway.

We sat down at a table in the back after placing our orders, Vitoria using rapid-fire Spanish when placing hers, laughing with the barista. I liked her laugh, I found myself thinking as I watched her. She tossed her head back and laughed merrily, as though she didn’t care who might hear her or who might stare.

“So do you live here in Barcelona, or are you just here for an extended visit?” Vitoria asked.

“I’ve lived here for the past three years,” I told her. I grimaced. “And my Spanish is still only rudimentary—maybe I need a better teacher!” Vitoria laughed again. “What about you?” I asked. “I’m sure if you lived here, I would recognize you. A man could never forget a stunning face like yours.”

It was cheesy, I knew, but women seemed to respond to the line. Especially proud Spanish women who wanted seemingly nothing more than to know that they and their beauty was appreciated.

Vitoria grinned. “I grew up here in Barcelona, but I’ve been away at school for a long time—first at boarding school and then at university. My parents wanted me to have a global education.” She paused. “What about your family? They must miss you.”

“My brothers also live here, and some of my other family as well,” I told her, shrugging. “In any case, all my mother really worries about is when we’ll all settle down with good wives and start having grandchildren that she can dote on.”

“Is that what you’re looking for?” Vitoria asked.

I grinned, knowing exactly what she was trying to trap me into saying. If I told her that all I was looking for was a good fuck, she would know I was a player and be offended that that was all I wanted from her. But if I told her I was looking for a real relationship and a family, then as soon as I moved on to the next woman, she’d claim I had broken her heart and send her brother, cousin, neighbor, whoever to beat me to a living pulp.

“I’m afraid that at the moment, my work situation doesn’t allow me much time to have a serious relationship, let alone children,” I finally said.

“What do you do for work?” Vitoria asked.

“I’m involved in the family business,” I told her. “Trade.”

“Interesting.”

“But if you’ve been at university abroad, what brings you back to the city?” I asked.

Vitoria sighed and looked away. “Like I said, this morning, I was visiting my mother in the hospital. She’s been diagnosed with some rare disease. There’s a decent rate of recovery, but I could never forgive myself if something were to happen to her while I was away at school.”

“Of course,” I murmured, reaching out to squeeze her hand comfortingly.

She smiled across the table at me. “So what were you doing at the market anyway? Isn’t it usually Russian women who do the shopping and the cooking?”

I laughed. “That might be true if I had a Russian wife,” I told her. “I know how to handle myself in the kitchen. I haven’t mastered many Spanish dishes yet, but suffice it to say that I’m not living on frozen meals.”

“Hmm, a man who can cook,” Vitoria said, raising an eyebrow at me. “You’re quite the catch, aren’t you?”

“You haven’t even seen my yacht yet,” I boasted.

“You have a yacht?” Vitoria asked in surprise. She frowned. “Your family has a yacht?”

“I have a yacht,” I told her proudly. “I do work for the family business now, but before I moved to Barcelona, I had saved up quite a bit of money. I was a famous hockey player.”

“Figures,” Vitoria laughed. “And what, you swapped the ice for the sand? You don’t look old enough to be retired.”

I grimaced. “I took a couple bad hits,” I told her. “My knees do all right for walking, but my skating will never be the same again.”

It was Vitoria’s turn to look sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

I shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with it,” I told her stoically. “I made my millions young, and now I have plenty of time to enjoy them.”

Vitoria laughed. “I suppose that’s one way to look at things!” She raised an eyebrow. “So any chance I might get to see this yacht at some point?”

I grinned at her. “Why don’t you let me take you out on Friday night?” I suggested. “We’ll sail out along the coast and have a nice dinner on the boat. You don’t get seasick, do you?”

Vitoria laughed and tossed back her hair. “Of course I don’t get seasick—I grew up here in Barcelona!” she told me. “The sea is in my blood.”

“Good,” I told her, smiling. “Then let me take you out on Friday night.”

“That’s a plan,” Vitoria said, scribbling down her phone number.

I slipped the number into my wallet, smiling a little to myself. That was almost too easy.

Chapter Three – Vitoria POV

I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get that Dmitry guy wrapped around my finger. All I’d had to do was get coffee with him, and he had already asked if he could take me out on his private yacht. Once I got him someplace private, there was no telling what sort of secrets I might get him to spill.

To be honest, I felt a little guilty about the way I was planning on using him. I’d expected him to be some horrible player, some absolute pig. But instead, he’d been surprisingly kind and empathetic when we’d talked at the coffee shop. The two of us had clicked nicely on our initial date.

But I wasn’t in this because I wanted to date him. I just needed to get information about what the Volkov family was planning so that I could buy the treatments that my mother so desperately needed.

I took a deep breath to compose myself, looking one last time in the mirror. I was trying my best to tread the thin line between sexy and reserved. If I looked too sexy, I was afraid that Dmitry would come on to me right away, and I knew that once I’d had sex with him, I would lose my allure. He was the kind of man who was interested in the chase; once he knew that he could just have me, he would move on to someone else.

And unfortunately, the more attraction I felt for him, the more I doubted my ability to hold myself back if he made a move.

So I needed to look reserved. But if I looked too reserved he wouldn’t be interested in me either. I needed to dangle the promise of sex right there in front of him, but I needed to keep it just out of reach. Like a carrot in front of a horse, urging it onwards.

I smiled a little to myself. This outfit, a simple rose-colored dress, did exactly that. It hugged my curves, but with its high neckline, it left something to the imagination. The smoky-eyed makeup would draw him in, but the carefully-coiffed hair wasn’t quite the siren’s call of having my hair loose and cascading down my back.

At least, I hoped so, anyway.

Dmitry couldn’t keep his eyes off me when I met him at the pier. “Красивая женщина—a beautiful woman,” he murmured.

I blushed and ducked my head. I would never have expected to find Russian to be a sexy language, but when he said it like that…

Dmitry held out his arm to me and led me towards one of the yachts. “Alba,” I said in surprise. “That’s Catalonian for dawn.”

“I know,” Dmitry said, smiling crookedly at me. “I didn’t name her that. I don’t speak a word of Catalan. But with the name, I guess there’s a story, and it never seemed right to rename her.”

I gave him a considering look. He was surprisingly thoughtful, for a Russian hockey player. But before I could comment, he was leading me onboard and casting away the lines.

“It’s mostly ceremonial,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder at me. “I’ve hired a crew to captain her for the night so that I can focus on the dinner and…you.” Again, his eyes stroked over my dress, and I felt a shiver of anticipation.

Maybe I hadn’t managed to be quite as reserved as I’d meant to be. I tried to remember why that mattered, especially as he stepped in close to me, brushing a lock of hair off my neck and tucking it securely behind my ear.

“You really do look beautiful,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” I breathed, wondering if he was going to kiss me. For a moment, he paused there, and I thought for sure that he would, but then he grinned crookedly at me and pulled away. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve put together a nice barbecue.”

“That sounds great,” I said, even though hunger for food was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I trailed after him as he made his way across the deck. As we looked out across the water, the sun was just starting to set, and the lights in Barcelona were just starting to come on.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Dmitry suggested, nodding towards some comfy seats spread around at strategic intervals. “I’ll get the grill going and the food cooking, and then I’ll join you. Can I get you anything to drink—water, wine, beer?”

“Wine would be nice,” I said, even though I knew that the last thing I needed was to poison my ability to think clearly. I settled in on one of the couches, and a few minutes later, I gratefully accepted the crisp Chardonnay.

“We’re having chicken for dinner, so I thought it would be fitting,” Dmitry said, looking almost nervous.

I smiled reassuringly at him. “That’s perfect,” I said, taking a sip.

Dmitry smiled toothily at me and then retreated to the grill, as he started the fire and got to cooking.

I swallowed hard as I watched him. The summer evening was warm, and I could see the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. His muscles were just as well-defined as one might expect from a former professional hockey player in a nice form fitting shirt. He clearly knew what he was doing, too: deftly lining up food on the grill and flipping it as it cooked.

Every once in a while, he’d glance over at me and catch me watching him, but when I blushed and studiously turned my gaze back over to the city, he simply smiled.

Finally, he came over and sat down beside me, after laying an extensive feast out on the low table in front of us. “Well, dig in,” he said, spreading his arms.

“Mm, this is really good,” I said as I munched on a bite. “You really do know how to cook.”

Dmitry preened at the attention. “It’s not the only thing I know how to do, either,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me, and I had to laugh. For some reason, even though I knew they were lines he probably used with every woman, even though I knew that I should be protesting and telling him that I wasn’t the kind of woman to just fall into bed with anyone, there was something charming about the way he said these things. As though it were some private joke between us.

We ate mostly in silence. When we finished, Dmitry pushed the table slightly away and sat back, putting his arm around the back of the couch behind me.

“The city sure looks beautiful from here, doesn’t it?” I asked, feeling content. The wine was making me a little sleepy, just a little tipsy, and I realized suddenly that I felt comfortable there, with him. Even though he was, nominally, the enemy.

I frowned but pushed that thought out of my mind.

“The city pales with the beauty sat beside me,” Dmitry said, another of his cheesy lines, but when I looked over, he was looking seriously at me, his gaze dark with desire.

My breath caught in my throat for a moment, and I wanted nothing more than to bridge the distance between us, to press my lips against his. But I paused, hesitant and uncertain. I remembered my resolution from earlier, how I wasn’t going to sleep with him.

He had no such qualms, though, and he leaned in close, brushing my hair back and then firmly settling his lips against mine. The kiss was soft and tender almost, something that I didn’t expect from him. I guess I had expected he would be demanding, that he would force my lips open and plunge his tongue inside my mouth. Instead, he seemed to be waiting for a reaction from me.

I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back, moaning softly as he tugged at my lower lip with his teeth.

He pulled back, giving me another moment to push him away, to put a stop to this. But again, I was caught up in the spell of the moment. I twisted my fingers in the soft, grey fabric of the shirt that he’d put back on after he’d finished cooking, using the material to pull him towards me, fitting my mouth against his for a second time. This time, I opened my mouth to him, and he licked and sucked his way inside.

His hands tugged at my hips, pulling me closer to him, arranging me so that I was sat in his lap, straddling him. My dress was rucked up on either side of my legs, and when I pressed down against him, it was only the thin fabric of my panties that stood as a barrier between his jeans and my slick pussy.

Dmitry pulled his mouth away from mine, trailing sloppy, heated kisses along my neck and towards my collar. I could feel as his hands found the zipper in the back, and although part of my mind was insisting that it was too soon, that we were moving too quickly, I still couldn’t find it in me to voice any protests. No, I wanted this I realized, as his hands slowly pulled down my zipper and drew the fabric away from my upper body.

For a moment, Dmitry paused, staring at my ample breasts in the black, lacy bra that I was wearing. He looked like he wanted to say something teasing, but whatever it was, he shook his head and forgot about it. He leaned forwards and kissed each breast, his lips leaving their mark just above the edge of each cup.

Suddenly, he stood up, holding me in his arms, and maneuvered us so that I was lying on my back across the couch, with him over me. He tugged my dress down further and then slid it carefully off my legs, hanging it over the arm of the couch behind him. His hands traced across my skin while his eyes devoured every change in my expression.

“Is this okay?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly with desire.

I nodded, still not trusting myself to form words.

I was rewarded with a lazy smile as Dmitry leaned back in, nuzzling my chin as his fingers dipped into my panties, quickly finding my sweet spot and playing his fingers across it, making me cry out as I arched against him. Dmitry hummed in response and twisted his hand so that his digits slipped inside of me, pushing into my folds as though they belonged there.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, dropping his forehead down against my collarbone.

“It’s been a while,” I gasped out, blushing even though I knew better than to be ashamed at that.

Dmitry gave me a serious look. “I’ll go slow,” he promised.

He seemed intent on making good on that promise too, as he continued to work his fingers inside me, giving me plenty of time to adjust, until I was practically sobbing with how badly I needed something more. With the angle we were lying at, I couldn’t get a hand on him, although every once in a while, I could feel his member pushing insistently against my hip as he shifted.

I pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him to back off a little so I could do something—tear his shirt off or get a hand down his pants, I wasn’t even sure which.

Finally, Dmitry laughed and pulled away. He stood up and stripped with brisk efficiency. After a moment where all I could do was stare hungrily as he showed more and more skin, I hurriedly removed my own bra and panties, so that when he next lay down over me, it was skin upon skin wherever we connected.

“Ready?” Dmitry breathed.

“Please,” I whispered.

Dmitry was just as careful and patient as before, slowly guiding his cock inside of me until he was fully seated within me. He gave me a few moments to adjust to his girth before he began to move. I gasped, feeling the slow drag of his skin against mine, the way the head of his penis pulled against my lips as he drew nearly all the way out before thrusting quickly back in again.

I made a punched-out sound as he hit the very end of my cavern, sending white-hot stars erupting behind my eyelids. My fingers scrabbled against his hips, urging him to do that again. Dmitry complied, and I cried out.

It was as I opened my eyes that I suddenly became aware of how exposed we were, there on the deck of his yacht. It felt like the whole city could look out and see us there, and I felt incredibly naughty…and hot all over, at the idea of it.

Dmitry thrust into me and I nearly screamed out his name, reminded again at how public our position was. If another boat were to happen past, they could surely hear me, could surely see us in the light spilling out of the cabin. But it didn’t seem to matter just then.

The only thing that mattered was chasing the orgasm flickering at the edges of my being. I could practically taste it, like an ocean wave threatening to overwhelm me, salty and heavy with the anticipation of it.

As Dmitry continued to use my body, it spilled over me, making me convulse against him, pulling his body against mine, squeezing an orgasm out of him as well, until we were a mess of pleasure and erratic heartbeats.

Dmitry turned his head to the side and kissed my hair, which I was sure was no longer neatly coiffed. But then again, my whole act didn’t seem to have worked: I hadn’t managed to act reserved, hadn’t managed to keep myself from having sex with him.

Shame came creeping in, as I remembered suddenly that this wasn’t supposed to be about sex or orgasms or slick muscles beneath my fingertips. I was meant to be getting information out of him. I was meant to be saving my mother in the only way that I could.

Instead, I wanted nothing more than to curl up beneath a blanket with Dmitry and sail off to who-knows-where.

I swallowed hard and turned my head away.

Dmitry pulled back, looking down at me. Again, I sensed that he wanted to say something, but whatever it was, he held back. It made it easier, in a way, knowing that he had his secrets as well, that there were some things that he wasn’t ready to say either.

He gently cupped my cheek in his palm, stroking the pad of his thumb across my cheekbone. “I guess it’s time I got you home,” he murmured.

I nodded, even though I hated the feeling of him pulling slowly away from me.

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