Lying and Kissing(20)

His toe slid higher up my leg. He was firm, not just brushing but pressing, kneading the soft flesh. It was a prelude to sex, showing me how he wanted to touch me with his hands. Every inch brought a new wave of pleasure, and they were merging and building, already dangerously strong. I gripped the table with one hand.

Hidden by the tablecloth, his foot angled and slid higher and higher, until it was past the tops of my stockings, right up between my thighs. Only my closed legs stopped him from sliding higher.

He looked at me from beneath half-closed eyelids.

“I—” I flushed. “No—God, we’ve only just met!” I looked around me. “There are people!” I hissed.

He waited until I’d gotten my objections out, and then he gave me the same look again. A low, smoldering gaze that felt as if it was burning my panties right off.

The heat was swirling and thickening inside me, sucking in power like a cyclone. I looked back at him helplessly, but he wasn’t going to show me any mercy.

I took a deep breath...and opened my legs.

He smiled. And immediately, his foot was pushing up between my thighs, the toe of his shoe against the front of my panties. I’d never been touched by anything like that before. Fingers, a tongue...even a cock is throbbing and alive and has some give in it. But this was leather and rubber, hard and brutal, rubbing up and down against my lips. Lips that were already swollen and—God—wet.

This was how sex with him would be. Hard and strong and with a hint of danger, but all aimed at giving me pleasure. I stared across the table at him, my mouth slightly open, and panted as he rubbed me in slow, precise strokes exactly where I needed it. My ass was clenching and moving in my seat, both hands gripping the table, now.

“I like you, Arianna,” he said. “We can have fun together. Don’t you want to have fun?”

I realized that he wasn’t playing around. He wasn’t just going to rub me a little and then let me down again—he was actually planning to make me climax, right there in public. The heat coiled tight, twisting and thrashing like a living thing, and I squirmed helplessly in my seat. I was close, rushing towards it unstoppably fast. Above the table, I was just about demure. Beneath the tablecloth, my dress was rucked up around my hips and his thick, muscled leg was nestled obscenely between my thighs.#p#分页标题#e#

This is crazy! We’ve only just met!

Except we hadn’t, had we? I’d been listening to his calls, fantasizing about him, dreaming about him. My body had been reacting to him for months.

I tried to speak—I’m not sure whether I was going to beg him to back off, or to keep going. But it was already too late. The heat twisted and knotted and then suddenly released and I had to squeeze my eyes shut and fight to stop myself from screaming. The orgasm tore through me, rippling outward in waves, and I bucked and shuddered in my seat, heaving air through my nose. I managed to not cry out, but I made a low moan, deep in my throat, that made a man on the next table turn and stare.

I slowly opened my eyes. I was breathing hard and Luka still had his foot jammed between my thighs. I stared at him, utterly lost.

“Tonight,” he said, “You’ll come out with me. And I’ll get to know you much, much better.”





I barely remember staggering out of the restaurant and into a cab. I called Adam again, telling him how much I’d enjoyed the meal and that I’d be seeing the guy again that night. Adam’s voice should have been comforting but, as I sat there on the end of my bed, he sounded very far away. Langley might as well have been on another planet. Moscow—and Luka—were right there, touchable and real.

When the call was over, I fell back onto the bed and lay there staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t see the smooth white plaster. I saw eyes that were so cold they pierced me to the very soul...yet with that blistering heat behind them. I reran his words in my head and every syllable licked over me, making me buzz. I like you, Arianna,” he said. “We can have fun together. Don’t you want to have fun?

Don’t I?

I felt that flutter in the pit of my stomach, the one you get at the brink of the first hill on a rollercoaster. Layers of excitement and fear stacked on top of one another and twisted up tight until you don’t know which is which. If it had been a normal date with a guy who made me feel like this, I would have been drunk on anticipation anyway. The knowledge of who he was—what he was—and what he’d do to me if he discovered my secret, made me reel. What in the name of God am I doing?!

This wasn’t some sex game, like that boyfriend my friend Sophie had who liked to tie her up with silk scarves. This wasn’t something you giggled about to your friends and that made you feel adventurous. This was a man who’d kill if one of his deals went sour. What the hell would he do if he discovered I was a spy?