Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

too.” He pressed his body closer, wanting to crawl inside of her skin. “After you were gone, I would lie awake at night and remember you, the curves of your body and how soft you were.” His hand cupped her breast, his thumb sliding over her nipple. “Like this. Full and round and so damned soft you feel like heaven.” He closed his eyes and burrowed his face into her wealth of silky hair. “I remembered every detail. And when I couldn’t sleep I’d think about how your body curved, every valley, your hips and ass. I love your ass.”
    “You were obsessing, Aleksandr. That’s not a good thing.”
    “Maybe not, but it kept me sane.” He kissed a spot between her shoulder blades. “Before I met you, I had a satisfying life. I got up in the morning and had my coffee and went to work. Whatever case I was working on consumed my morning, afternoon, and evening. Sometimes I worked until two or three in the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    morning. Looking back, I realize I didn’t have friendships. I didn’t dare. Betrayal is a way of life and getting too close to anyone is dangerous business. When I met you, the first thing that really hit me was the way you smiled at me. It was so genuine. It lit your eyes and your face and seemed to be coming from somewhere inside of you. You didn’t want anything at all from me.”
    His teeth nipped her skin, his tongue flicking the small mark. “I wanted something from you and I was ashamed. I’d never felt shame before. It was a new and very unpleasant experience for me. I wanted our chance meeting to be real.”
    “I was hurt when you first told me,” she admitted, “but now it doesn’t seem so terrible. At least we did meet. I loved the way you touched me. Very strong, very sure, guiding me through a crowded street.”
    She smiled at the memory. His face has been so strong, remote, so completely bleak, yet confident. He had been a puzzle to her. The more she was in his company, the more layers she discovered. The first time he laughed, her heart had soared and she’d known he was the one. That he’d always be the one.
    She had loved being the person to put that laughter in his eyes. He smiled, but rarely with his eyes and when he’d laughed, her entire being had responded.
    “I didn’t know people like you existed,” he confessed. “I grew up in a school. A place where they trained us. We didn’t have mothers and fathers, we had teachers. We worked at skills all the time and that was our playtime. We didn’t know others had different lives, because it seemed natural to us.”
    Her heart ached for him. She shifted position again, her back to him, pressing her buttocks tightly against his groin, her face buried in the pillow. If she cried, he would stop talking about his past. He always stopped if he thought she was upset and as much as it hurt to hear his childhood, she wanted to know.
    He was always so matter-of-fact. It was never a bid for sympathy. He had known no other way of life and it seemed natural to him. Duty. Work. Acquiring necessary skills. She knew his teachers had shaped a weapon, sharpening his mind and building on his natural athletic ability and his reflexes.
    His hand stroked her silken hair. “We had to ask for our food in at least three languages. We were never allowed to just use one language when we spoke. If I said anything to a teacher, or to anyone else, I had to say it three times.” He lifted the hair from the nape of her neck, his lips trailing over her skin. “I didn’t mind. It was a challenge to be able to do it, but not all of the others had a gift for languages and it was harder on them.”
    “What was hard on you?” His teeth and mouth were driving her slowly crazy. He nibbled and licked and sucked and her body was beginning to respond to the stimulation with a slow burn.
    She felt his smile against her neck. “I didn’t like anyone telling me what to do. If I thought I had a better way to accomplish something, I did it my way.”
    “Did you get into trouble?” She closed her eyes as his hands cupped her breasts and his strong fingers began a slow assault on her sensitive nipples.
    “I often was reprimanded. I think it was considered part of the training. We weren’t allowed to make a sound or answer back when they beat us. I think it set the stage for working as an operative in the event we were captured and tortured.”
    His erection was growing against her,