The Taming of the Thief (21 page)

 
   
 
Joy.

 
   
 
He
fought the urge to thrust, giving her time to get used to him. Her nails scored
along his back urging him deeper, Pietr gritted his teeth determined to make it
last, but when she rolled her hips upwards, clamping the length of him, he gave
into the want and thrust.

 
   
 
Sophie shifted beneath him, her lips pressing
to his throat, her legs wrapping his hips and her breasts rubbing against his
chest. A driving hunger ripped through him, splitting his vision as he gave
into the urge and rhythm, pushing into her sweet, pliant body and claiming her
mouth with his own.

 
   
 
He
vaguely heard her cry out his name. His balls tightened, heat
tingling
the length of him and then even that savage
satisfaction burned in the jets of pleasure as he came.

 
   
 
S
ophie stared up at the ceiling, the
delicious weight of Pietr's body squashing her into the softness of the bed.
Every muscle was loose, sated and deliciously heavy. It was like being drunk.

 
   
 
Aware
of every intimate way in which his skin touched her, she could feel him
quivering inside her. There'd been no condom, nothing protecting her from the
soft slide of his hard thrusts.

 
   
 
Amazingly enough she didn't care. Despite her
earlier reservations, she wanted nothing separating her from this. Pregnancy
wasn't an issue. She used birth control. She loved the way he felt against her,
the quiet strength in his muscles, the way his arms banded as they held her,
even the hard slant of his mouth softened as it claimed hers and now nibbled
gently at the juncture of her throat and shoulder.

 
   
 
It
wasn't just the sex, it was the way he held her, nuzzled her,
adored
her.

 
   
 
He'd
been patient when she'd held back.

 
   
 
He'd
talked and let her work up her own courage.

 
   
 
He'd
given her everything she asked for and more.

 
   
 
Joy
bubbled up inside of her.

 
   
 
“A
thousand dollars for your thoughts,” his lazy voice drifted up to her and she
laughed. The involuntary clench of her muscles sent another hard shudder
through him and he groaned. The sound was glorious.

 
   
 
“I
think you would be overpaying.”
Look at
me. I’m teasing him.
She’d been reborn, all her insecurities and self-doubt
washed away, leaving only Sophie. She felt like herself and not herself for the
first time ever.

 
   
 
“
Non
, it would be a
bargain,” Pietr's head lifted, giving her a good look at the drowsy contentment
on his face. Her heart fisted in her chest. “Now tell me,” he growled the
order, both playful and demanding.

 
   
 
“I
was thinking I've never felt that way before,” she whispered, an unexpected
sass sizzling through her. “And I wondered if that was just a one-off or would
it happen again?”

 
   
 
Pietr
chuckled, a slow, hungry sound. “There is only one way to find out
bien-aimee
.”

 
   
 
“Again?”

 
   
 
“Oh
Oui,
” his hands were already moving and
her eyes widened as he began thickening inside of her.
“Again.”

 
   
H
is
hand cupped her sex, teasing her clit and sending the tension writhing through
her belly. His hands seemed to be everywhere, stroking down her thighs, gliding
over her ass, teasing her nipples and then his breath warmed her pussy. Thought
obliterated under the sensual onslaught as he stuck his nose against her folds
and lapped at the moisture spilling like lava from her core.

 
   
When his stiff tongue slicked up the length
of her pussy, swirled around her clit and then down to rim her entrance, Sophie
tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She’d never behaved in such a
wanton fashion, but laying splayed on the bed, her thighs over his shoulders,
her heels digging into his back, she let out a long, throaty moan.

 
   
Two fingers replaced his tongue and glided
into her, mimicking the thrusting motions of his cock. He closed his lips over
her clit and fluttering it until the frustration building inside of her seemed
to stretch her taut.

 
   
“Please, Pietr…” she begged. She needed
more, she needed everything he gave her and still she wanted more.

 
   
He pulled back and she growled at his
retreat, but the smile he quirked in her direction just made her pulse race.
“Patience
cheri
, your time is
coming.”  He urged her up, slipping free of her legs and flipping her
over.  Face down against the bedspread she murmured a denial.

 
   
“Patience,” he counseled, hands stroking
over her buttocks and then down her thighs. His knee slid between them and he
urged her hips upwards. Her next objections shuddered to a halt as his engorged
cock nudged her entrance.

 
   
Blowing out a sigh of anticipation she
pushed back towards him, sinking onto the length of him. His hands curved
around her hips, digging into the soft flesh and he hammered home, driving deep
toward her womb.  Her back arched, her nipples tightened and a long, hard
moan ripped from her throat.

 
   
Four strong thrusts and she came, her orgasm
ripping through every sense and he continued to hammer between her legs, hips
rolling and dragging as he ground his cock against her heated walls and just
like that, the tension ramped up again and he pushed her harder until a second
orgasm stormed her before the first completed.  He followed her this time,
shouting her name.

 
   
They locked together, hearts slamming until
his weight drooped over her back and he pinned her to the mattress.  He
peppered kisses along her damp cheek, brushing her eyelid and then down to the
corner of her mouth.

 
   
“Again?”
She panted
the word.

 
   
“Oh
oui
,
definitely…”

 
   
 
M
orning couldn't be far away, but Sophie
was almost too wired to sleep. Pietr made good on his promise and she
discovered that not only could it happen again, it could happen over and over.

 
   
 
She'd
never had so many orgasms. Sophie stroked a hand along the bare length of his
back, petting him. He slept soundly, but even in sleep, his arm was around her,
his leg tossed over hers, holding her.

 
   
 
Adoring her.

 
   
 
Pietr
was a demanding lover, but an attentive one. He'd never taken his pleasure
first; lavishing her with so much attention she'd forgotten the rest of the world.
Now with light edging the curtained windows, she mused on her strange fortune.

 
   
 
Two
days ago, she'd had nothing but her next exhibit and her dissertation to think
about. Her life revolved around that exhibit, the pieces she had to
authenticate, choose and update for insurance. It was all that had been on her
mind.

 
   
 
Poor Doctor Hinkley.

 
   
 
The
stray thought flushed her with guilt.

 
   
 
Pietr
shifted in his sleep. Sophie looked down at him in wonder.
Doctor
Hinkley's fate fading from her mind.
How could bad luck turn out to be
so fortunate?

 
   
 
Her
bladder complained and Sophie shifted, she should get up.
Shower,
order food up and coffee.
Pietr liked coffee. She could do all that for
him.

 
   
 
Look
at what he'd done for her.

 
   
 
She
eased out of the bed, careful to not disturb him and tiptoed into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and sporting Pietr's shirt and fresh
underwear from her forgotten overnight bag, Sophie prowled around the sitting
room. Every hotel had a room service menu and she wanted it to be perfect
before Pietr woke up.

 
   
 
She
would even feed him in bed.

 
   
 
Her
body warmed to the thought and she smothered a laugh at herself. Perhaps wanton
was a new phrase she would have to add to her repertoire.
Particularly
where Pietr was concerned.

 
   
 
The
bar drawers offered no answers, so she checked the desk drawers.
Pens, pads of paper, a Bible and a couple of portfolio-like
folders, but no menu.

 
   
 
She
paused closing the drawer when a name on the corner of one folder caught her
eye. Sophie frowned.

 
   
 
It
was her name.

 
   
 
Inquisitiveness warred with reluctance to pry.
Nudging the top folder to the side, she saw her name, her address, her phone
number and the name of the museum. Chewing her lip, she glanced at the open
door to Pietr's bedroom and the folder.

 
   
 
She
tugged it out and flipped it open. Buoyant joy shattered.

 
   
 
“Sophie.” Pietr's voice jerked her gaze to the
bedroom where he stood, fresh from the bed, naked and tousled. “Let me
explain.”

 
   
 
“Explain?” Her voice cracked. The folder felt
like a lead weight in her hand. “You had me investigated. You knew everything
about me before you even met me.”

 
   
 
“
Oui,
but
it's not want
you think.” Pietr took a step forward and winced when she backed up a pace.
“Please,
bien-
aimee
,
just let me explain.”

 
   
 
“Did
you plan this? Seduce me into getting whatever it was you wanted? What is it
you want?
Museum access?
Doctor Hinkley?” Horror
crawled between the
outrage
. “Did you have something
to do with his murder?”

 
   
 
Had
she slept with a murderer?

 
   
 
Her
stomach rolled.

 
   
 
“
Non
.” Pietr made a
slashing gesture with his hand. “I did not even know about the Doctor until
Detective Bryant mentioned it. I have not lied to you
Sophie,
I came here looking for an item.”

 
   
 
“So
all the charm, the wonderful things you said…” Tears choked her voice. Pietr
shot across the room towards her, catching her before she could retreat. He
tugged the file out of her hands and flung it, papers scattering.

 
   
 
“…I
meant every word I said,
bien-aimee
,
every single word and to hell with that file. What happened between us has
nothing to do with why I came here.” Despite the urgency in his gaze, his hands
were firm, but gentle, holding her captive.