Page 62 of Lord of Passion

It's a crisp October night. Perfect weather. The night sky is lit by a sullen crescent moon; it won't be much help in finding my way. The Maybach glides along some of the quieter streets in this section of New York, and I watch the autumn and Halloween decorations grow more and more elaborate. Grinning pumpkins, witches dangling from trees, and in the fancier neighborhoods, there are explosions of ornamental gourds trailing down the steps of well-kept brownstones, with pots of mums, brightly colored flame reds, oranges and yellows.

We turn into a section of town that I know pretty well. Liria and Alexsey used to live in this neighborhood before they got pregnant with the twins and wanted something different. Liria and I used to take runs through these streets. I know the fireescapes and rooftops. Which apartment buildings don't lock their back doors.

Is Nikandr deliberately giving me an edge?

Oh, honey,I think,I don't need one.

Rafail opens my door as a gust of brisk wind tears down the alley where we've parked and I shiver. The night feels dark in a different way. I look for Nikandr, but I can't see him. It's not a bad alley, the pavement is dry and there's no trash, everything is well-tended. There are garbage dumpsters lining the walls. Is he behind one of them?

I'm an idiot. Yes. Nikandr, the MorozovSovietnikis hunched behind a dumpster in his twenty-five-hundred-dollar custom suit.

The dark energy is traveling up my spine, spreading like a blissful venom in my veins. I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet, ready to sprint like an arrow shot from a bow. I just need an endpoint.

"Isaak, Rafail, you may leave."

Nikandr's deep voice is above us. I look up, searching for him on a fire escape or leaning out an open window.

Where is he?

They look at each other. "Sovietnik,are you sure?" Rafail says, looking around us.

"She's safe with me. Leave."

After a quick glance, waiting for me to nod, they do.

Another surge of wind sends fallen leaves skittering along the pavement.

Shivering in my hoodie, I try to keep my voice down. "Do I get a route to follow, or…?"

"My game, my rules." Nikandr's behind me now, almost touching me and I spin with a little shriek. His huge hand goes over my mouth. "Shhh…Plokhoy kot, my bad cat. Don't make me gag you."

I don't think Nikandr's idea of a night run is the same as mine.

His hand is big enough to spread over my mouth and leave his thumb free to stroke along my pulsing carotid. "Your heartbeat is thundering." He pulls his hand away, stroking his fingertips over my lips.

His hand moves to my neck, fingers tightening slightly. My mouth is so dry. Nikandr's looming over me, casting a shadow against the brick wall. The sheer bulk of him, the heat from his body, his hard, muscled shoulders in a black t-shirt… It's overwhelming. "Do- do you have a route for me? Where's the end point?"

"We're playing a little differently tonight." His calloused fingertips rasp against the soft skin of my neck and then he squeezes it, yanking me forward abruptly andslamminghis mouth down on mine.

He's rough, his lips hard and his tongue pushing between my lips, pulling my breath from me before he pushes me away. My back smacks against the brick as I stare up at him, shocked.

"Tonight, you're running not to be the fastest," he murmurs in my ear. I make a little noise. Something needy. "You're running to keep me from cutting those tight leggings off you and fucking you. Right where I catch you. Bent over a wall… on your back on the sidewalk…" He cups my pussy, the heel of his hand rubbing my clitoris with only a thin layer of spandex between us.

Both times we've been together it was frenzied, this is different. Nikandr's moves are harsh and deliberate. He knows exactly whathewants tonight. The meaning of his name for the run tonight hits me. Primal Dash.

Oh, shit. This isn't parkour. This is primal play. I've never done this.

"What's your safe word, Caroline?" He's a demon, whispering in my ear.

"Uh…" Nothing is coming to me. "Tortoise. It's tortoise."

Nikandr's close enough that I can feel his grin against my cheek and I realize my mistake. Damn him! He was giving me a chance to back out and instead, I set my safe word.

You've never played blushing, shy maiden before,I remind myself.Own it.

"The safe point is 19th Street and Cairn Way. The safe point,Plokhoy kot,not the finish line. If you get there first, I can't fuck you the way I want to. Clothes ripped…" His knee pushes between mine up and up, sending me on tiptoe. "Panties hanging off one ankle." His hands clamp down on my hips, pulling me hard against the sculpted muscles in his thigh. I'm instantly, needily, embarrassingly wet. "My hand over your mouth so no one hears your screams." Another hard pass over his thigh and my clitoris sends a shockwave through me. "And youwillbe screaming."

He holds up his phone and I blink, it takes me a minute to recognize the map. "I sent this to your phone," he says. "If I catch you before 17th Street…" Those giant paws of his slide down to cup my ass and he squeezes. Hard. "I'm going to fuck you here."