Red Alpha: A BWWM Russian Alpha Billionaire Romance (14 page)

Almost
.

“I…don’t know anything about you.”

Her lover’s expression remained neutral as he continued to stare at her, and Cadence’s stomach tightened in apprehension. Though the air between them still remained fraught with lust, it had been tempered somewhat by her sudden declaration. “What of it?”

Cadence scowled, reaching down to flip the edge of the coverlet over her bare abdomen as she tried again. “I don’t make a habit of sleeping with men I don’t know.”

How this was going to segue into anything that Cresseda might want to know, she had no clue. All the young woman knew was that perhaps something
she
wanted to know might be of just as much importance to the director.

Or, perhaps…she was just being selfish.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

For a long moment, Demyan just looked at her, as if he were sizing her up for the first time. Slowly, he stretched his long form out on the bed next to her as he propped himself up on one muscular arm. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low. “Are you
threatening
me, Cadence?”

Her eyes widened. Such a thing had never been her intention; and if she understood Demyan’s tone correctly, the misinterpretation couldn’t bode well for her.

Unless it got her what she wanted. Clearing her throat, Cadence straightened until she was looking down at
him
. She forced herself to remember that she was an agent, and that she had been trained on what to do in these types of situations. She might not be her sister, but she could do
this
.

She could prove to herself that she wasn’t nearly as lost in Demyan as he thought.

As they
both
thought.

“I’m not.” Her voice was admirably steady when she finally replied. “I just like to know what I’m getting into.”

To her surprise, the tall Russian smirked in amusement. “Alright then, Cadence.” In a trice, he was atop her, each of his hands pinning one of her wrists to the coverlet above her head as the hard length of his body pressed against hers. “Ask what you will…while I busy myself with what
I’m
getting into.”

She wouldn’t have been surprised if her face turned the same color as a ripe cherry, but the young woman wasn’t about to give up this opportunity. Swallowing thickly, she forced herself to look away from Demyan’s hungry gaze as she contemplated what questions to ask. It wasn’t the easiest task when the man’s mouth found her neck to begin lavishing it with kisses and small, sharp bites that sent sensation zinging to her lower belly. “What…what do you like to do in your spare time?” It was an inane inquiry, but as good a place as any to start, she supposed.

Demyan must have thought it as ridiculous as she did, because he chuckled against her collarbone. “Whatever Minister Danshov requires of me. Paperwork. Fund allocation. Making sure that people are in the right place at the right time.” He tossed the blanket from where she had attempted to cover herself before beginning to inch her blouse up her abdomen.

“I mean…what do you do for
you
?” Cadence shuddered as Demyan’s mouth moved slowly over each one of her ribs, lingering there as he traced the slender lines with his tongue.

“You.” He replied without hesitation. “You prove a very entertaining distraction.”

It was probably one of the most flattering compliments a man had paid her in a long time – unless one counted Geoff’s bumbling attempts to hit on her when they’d first met.

“Distraction from what?” Demyan’s fingers hooked into the hem of her slacks to work them down and off her legs before he dropped them over the edge of the bed.

“Mother Russia.” He murmured against her thigh, before his teeth scraped against the tender flesh in a way that made her shiver in anticipation. “And her current state of affairs.” Cadence lifted herself up onto her elbows to look down at him, her breath catching in her throat as the dark-haired man nipped at the hem of her panties.

“I don’t understand.” She pressed, her voice trembling the slightest bit. “Minister Danshov says that the current Russian economy and his approval ratings are more than adequate-” She inhaled sharply as Demyan spread her thighs in a smooth movement to settle himself on his stomach between them. He looked up at her, his expression mild for a man with criminal intent, his smile lacking humor.

“Cadence, if you believe everything you are told, you will make for a sorry politician indeed.” Before she even had a chance to be affronted, he lowered his mouth to cover the most sensitive part of her through her underwear, his tongue darting over her in a long lap that had her biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

“Has it occurred to you, Demyan, that perhaps I’m shrewder than you give me credit for?” But he seemed to be ignoring her at this point, in favor of tugging aside the crotch of her underwear to expose her drenched lower folds. He found and latched onto her swollen clit in short order, and Cadence had to muffle her sharp cry of pleasure.

As always, the Russian man was ruthless in his quest to give her pleasure. His mouth covered the whole of her as he mouthed her almost roughly, and Cadence’s hips arched against his eager lips as she bit at the back of a hand to muffle her moans of delectation. Truly, Demyan could work
wonders
with that deceptively quiet mouth of his. He ate at her with a gusto she’d never seen him devote to any meal, whatever Russian delicacy graced his table. The young woman’s head fell back as her lover jerked one of her legs over his shoulder to grant himself better access. When his tongue slipped into her, her thighs trembled and her free hand tangled in his hair as she gasped, her orgasm washing over her with breathtaking intensity.

Cadence trembled almost violently, her fingers clutched at the man’s scalp so hard she swore she must be hurting him. Demyan, however, only groaned, lapping at her thighs hungrily as she came down. The sensation was almost enough to send her shooting towards her next peak, and she moaned low in her throat as she struggled to regain her head.

Questions. She was supposed to be asking
questions
.

“Wh-
why
aren’t Danshov’s policies working?” Of course, anyone with eyes could see that Osip was far too self-absorbed and corrupt to have the best interests of his country at heart, but she wanted Demyan’s perspective. God knew he wasn’t honest about it around Danshov.

“Osip knows the Russian people about as well as his father before him.” Demyan pressed a lingering kiss to her lower lips that made her stomach muscles contract tightly. “And he does not
wish
to know them. Power is all that matters to him – and that is what speaks most poignantly to our people. It keeps them from asking questions…just as it keeps
your
country from risking open war.”

“And what about you?” She managed breathlessly, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of the Russian’s head between her thighs. “What matters to you?”

“How glorious you taste.” He growled against her lower lips, effectively rendering her speechless until he had worked her into another debilitating orgasm that barely left her with the wherewithal to remember her own name.

When he was finished, Demyan slipped her damp panties down her legs to set them aside before he straightened to look down at her. As he licked his gleaming mouth of her leavings, Cadence groaned softly. “This…isn’t fair.”

“Perhaps you should save the questions for later.” The man’s tone was less suggestive and more commanding as he worked her shirt off over her head to rid her of it, leaving her only in her black camisole.

“You won’t answer them later.” Cadence returned, swallowing thickly. “So answer me now.”

In response, Demyan took hold of her hips, his green eyes darkening as he met her gaze once more. “You want to know about me,
kukla
?” In a swift motion, he dragged her lower half against him, raising one leg until her ankle rested on his shoulder and he had effectively bent her in half. He tugged down his pajama pants just enough to free the erection that strained against them before thrusting into her with almost bruising force.

As always, the man filled her entirely, and a sharp cry escaped her as he stretched her deliciously, pain and pleasure melding together so she almost came again on the spot. Demyan kept her just like that, impaled firmly on his member, as he spoke to her in a tone so intense her heart stuttered in her chest.

“I’m a son to murdered parents, a brother to a murderous sibling, and a murderer in my own right. Your country has sent you into a den of wolves, and here you are, in the bed of one of the most dangerous of all. Is this what you wanted to know?”

Cadence floundered for words, both Demyan’s statements and his searing presence inside her effectively eroding any control she might have of her senses. “
Yes
.” She managed to whisper, her stare unwavering. “It is.”

His expression unreadable, Demyan began a sharp, jarring rhythm within her that had Cadence biting back screams of pleasure. He had been right – he
was
punishing her; and she’d never felt something so deliciously forbidden in her entire existence.

His hold on her body unyielding, Demyan pleasured her –
fucked
her – until she lay exhausted beneath him, her body a trembling mass of nerve endings that refused to do her bidding. His mouth covered hers to muffle her moans as he drove her to peak after torturous peak, and, momentarily, the sheer passion with which he took her burned away any unanswered questions she might have had.

When he finally found his own completion, it was with a low groan against her shoulder, his form shuddering as his hips bucked almost wildly against hers. The young woman exhaled a shuddering breath as she felt warmth spill against her womb, and her eyes slid closed as Demyan breathed raggedly against her overheated skin.

When it was over, he rolled from her to sit at the edge of the bed, his back turned to her, and Cadence sat up as well, clutching the sheets to her naked breasts as she contemplated the fine line of his spine and the pronounced definition of his shoulders. It was obvious that she’d upset him – and, distressingly, the realization started guilt churning in her stomach.

Goddamn it
.

Without a word, she rose from the bed to look for her clothes, intent on making her way back to her own suite to clear her head.

Before she had taken a single step, however, Demyan’s hand shot out to encircle her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

Cadence didn’t know if she’d ever felt as vulnerable as she did in that moment – thousands of miles away from everything she knew, stripped completely bare before a man who had just completely undone her.

Slowly, the tall man tugged her back into bed, leaning back against the pillows to cradle her against his chest. The young woman didn’t have the strength to protest, and what’s more, she didn’t know if she would have, even if she were able.

She and Demyan had
never
slept together after being intimate. Not once. It was understood that they had to be careful, and while they slept, anyone could come upon them.

But that didn’t seem to matter to the man at that particular moment. His fingers threaded through her hair as he held her against him, tugging the coverlet over them until they were cocooned in both it and one another’s warmth.

And there he held her until exhaustion took them both.

When Cadence awoke, hours later, it was still dark outside.

It took roughly five minutes for her to remember where she was, and once she did, her eyes widened.

Demyan’s bed. She had fallen asleep in his strong arms that were still wrapped around her, and at the feel of the Russian’s slow, steady breath against the back of her neck, she shivered slightly.

What on earth had happened between them that they had been so callous as to sleep in the same bed? God knew what hour Veta got up, and Lichakov, along with any other member of Danshov’s entourage, could pretty much waltz in whenever they pleased. Slowly, carefully, Cadence eased her way from Demyan’s arms.

It was no easy task. In his sleep, the Russian was determined that she stay right where she was, and it took Cadence a good twenty minutes to free herself from his embrace. Once she had, however, she stood over him, staring down at his sleeping form contemplatively.

What had he told her? That he was son to murdered parents, brother to a murderous sibling, and a murderer himself?

The very memory made Cadence’s blood run cold.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known that Demyan was probably dangerous – but to hear him
say
it…that was an entirely different matter. He was all but admitting that, as one of Danshov’s most trusted confidantes, he himself was far from the clean figure he appeared to be.

Her mouth pressed into a tight line, Cadence tried to imagine the sleeping man as a purveyor of evil – as everything she’d been warned he might be and more. A number of files she’d poured over before leaving the United States contained unsubstantiated evidence that he’d participated in several assassination attempts on other Russian nobility, money embezzlement, fraud, and a list of crimes that could fill an entire ledger.

But with his face lax in sleep, dark hair strewn messily over the pillow, it was hard to see him as anything other than a man.

Was it possible, the young woman wondered, that he was simply a victim of circumstance? That anything he might be guilty of was simply a rash mistake?

God
…shaking her head, she stifled bitter laughter.

She was lucky Alessia wasn’t alive. Her older sister would have throttled her if she knew what she was thinking. She hadn’t come here to try and figure out Demyan Boykov – and if she couldn’t separate whatever feelings she had developed from the task at hand, she was going to find herself in a monumental amount of trouble.

With no small amount of effort, Cadence tore her gaze from the sleeping man to take in his bedroom.

Nearly twice the size of her own, with an even more impressive view of Moscow, the space was bathed in the pale glow of the moon. It was surprisingly neat, considering that it belonged to a man – though, when she paused to think about it, Cadence realized that the organization suited Demyan’s personality. He seemed to always know where to find what he was looking for – including her, when the mood overtook him.