Page 49 of Twisted Fate
She points it at Elia, but the other woman is already moving, lunging forward as she ducks, knocking the gun to one side. I dive away as Sophia narrowly misses pulling the trigger, the gun loose in her hand as I swing around behind her. The pillows on the bed slide to one side as Elia dives toward her, and I see the glinting blade of a hunting knife where one of the pillows was.
Something uncomfortable twists in my chest at the thought that that was there the whole time I’ve been in bed with Sophia—inches away from me. That feeling, once again, that I don’t know everything that’s going on.
Elia grabs for the knife, swinging it in the direction of Sophia’s face. Sophia ducks, just in time for me to lunge forward, toppling Elia back onto the bed.
She looks up at me, panting. “I was hoping I’d get you in bed like this first,” she purrs, just as Sophia lunges toward us both, her nails digging into my shoulder as she yanks me back.
“Get off of her!” she snarls, and just as Elia starts to swing the knife again, Sophia brings the butt of the gun down on the bridge of her nose, hard.
Elia’s hand drops as she slumps back on the bed, her eyes closing as she goes limp.
I go very still at the edge of the bed, moving only to grab the knife and yank it away from Elia’s hand. Instinct tells me to hold onto it, but I drop it where it was before, looking at Sophia warily.
“Is she dead?”
Sophia frowns at me. “No. She’s unconscious. We need to tie her up and put her somewhere—the bathroom, maybe. When she wakes up, we can question her. It’s the best chance we’ve got at finding out what the hell is going on, and who’s after you.”
I stare at her. “What the hell, Sophia?” I manage finally, but she’s already moving, looking around for something to tie Elia up with.
“Are you going to help me or not?” she snaps, and I move to help her, using the ties of three different robes to knot Elia’s hands behind her back and her feet together. Sophia grabs her feet as I grab her shoulders, and we carry her into the bathroom, leaning her back against the clawfoot tub as Sophia stands back, her expression grim.
And then she turns to me, her eyes widening slightly as it sinks in. She presses a hand to her mouth. “You’re still naked.”
Her robe is hanging open, the front of her gorgeous body bare. There’s blood on her knuckles and a bruise on her cheek. A hundred questions flood my mind, each one more worrisome than the last, but the only thing I can think of right now is thatSophia has never looked more beautiful than she does in this exact moment.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out, grab the back of her neck, and crush my mouth against hers.
Sophia gasps, her lips parting under mine, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth. I’m hard in an instant, my body already craving hers again, and she moans as I grab her waist, lifting her up so that her legs wrap around my hips as we stagger back out into the room. The first solid surface outside of the bathroom is a desk near the window facing out to the park, and I set her on the edge of it, leaning her back as I reach down to angle my cock between her thighs.
“Oh god,” Sophia moans, her breath coming in quick, fast pants as I notch the blunt head against her entrance, and in one swift thrust, I fill her up.
Even as wet as she is, even after having already fucked her once this morning, she’s still tight around my cock. I thrust hard and fast, driving into her again and again, my hips rocking against hers as I chase my pleasure again. It’s like she’s a fucking drug, exactly as I feared, like I can’t get enough of her now that I’ve had her once. All I want is to sink into her again and again, to feel her wrapped around me, feel her come, hear her cries of pleasure. I kiss her roughly as I thrust into her, biting at her lower lip, breaking the kiss only to drag my mouth down her throat, biting and sucking at the slender column of it until I’ve made my way down to her collarbones. I bite her there, making her cry out, and then I lean her back as I suck her nipple into my mouth, tugging and biting as my hips slam into her again and again, pushing us both toward another climax.
I slide my hand between us, rubbing her clit feverishly with two fingers as I roll my hips against her. I feel her tighten, hear her moan and gasp my name, and the feeling of her starting toclench as she comes around my cock again is all I need to push me over the edge.
This time, I can feel the cum dripping out around my cock as I fill her. I groan, fucking her through the orgasm, pushing as much as I can inside of her, but when I pull out, I can see it streaked along her thighs, dripping from her pussy.
“You’re too full,volchitsa,” I growl, and she moans softly, squeezing her thighs together as she pushes herself up from the desk.
“Never,” she breathes, and then her eyes snap open, meeting mine. There’s that flash of something that I don’t quite recognize again, a hint of fear or guilt or something else, something that doesn’t make sense.
I pause, taking a step back as I look at her.Something that doesn’t make sense.
I can’t deny how I feel about her. I can’t deny everything I’ve been fighting from the start, and everything that I’m giving in to now. I can’t pretend that I’m not beginning to fall for this woman, or that I don’t want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.
She’s everything I could have ever asked for in bed. She’s beautiful, filthy between the sheets, shameless, and utterly ferocious. She’s capable and smart and brave. She’s an incredible woman—but there’s something about her that I’m missing, and I need to know what it is.
I need to know why my wife’s first instinct, after we were attacked, was to tie the assailant up in our bathroom with the intent of questioning her.
I need to know who Sophia Moretti really is.
14
VALENTINA
“Ineed to know the truth, Sophia.” Konstantin’s voice is hard, if not entirely unkind. He’s looking at me with the kind of expression that tells me he’s as confused as I am—that he’s feeling things he hadn’t expected and torn about what to do next.
And he suspects me. I can see that he does—it’s written all over his face. He glances back at the bathroom, then at me, his lips pressing tightly together as if to keep all the questions from spilling out all at once.
