Claim

10

Lyon stroked the silky skin of Kira’s shoulder and savored the weight of her head on his chest. He’d fucked her until she’d come again, and then he’d had one of the strongest orgasms of his life while inside her.

Something about the sight of her — his stubborn, fiery Kira — bound and gagged, crying out around his tie in her mouth while he slammed into her again and again, had undone him.

He’d wanted to possess her for as long as he could remember, but he hadn’t expected to love her.

And he did love her. He’d made a promise long ago that he would never lie to himself, no matter how great the temptation, Now, holding her in his arms, he couldn’t deny it even if he wasn’t ready to tell her. She was everything he’d imagined and more, and he knew he would never tire of looking at her.

Of fucking her and kissing her. Of holding her and protecting her.

She sighed in his arms and burrowed deeper against him. “I’m glad you came to my room.”

He loved being inside Kira, loved making her come, but her moments of softness in the aftermath were every bit as enjoyable. “I couldn’t stay away.”

She craned her neck to look up at him. “Really?”

He met her gaze through the darkness. “Really.”

“Good.” She lay her cheek back against his chest. “I don’t want you to stay away.”

His mind grew still as silence settled between them. He’d never been silent with anyone. Not really. Even when his mouth had been quiet, his mind had been at work.

Processing and cataloging.

Strategizing and plotting.

He didn’t know how she managed it, but somehow she both excited and calmed him.

“What will you do about Russia?” Kira said.

Her voice was sleepy and without guile, but he wasn’t ready to tell her about the probability of his mother working with Russia. It was too intimate, too humiliating, and they were still working their way back to some level of trust.

And yet, he wanted to include her, to dip his toe in the water of what it would be like to trust her again.

He thought of his conversation with Tolya at the horse farm earlier that day. “I don’t know. I need access to data I don’t have. Serious data. Data that could get me in trouble if anyone finds out I’ve gone looking.”

“Do you need a hacker?” Kira asked. “Someone who can access classified cyber data?”

She said it so casually, her breathing already falling into a pattern as she headed for sleep. But her mind, her brilliant mind, was still working for him.

“Something like that,” he said. He needed someone who could go through his mother’s large purchases with a fine-tooth comb, someone who could unravel the tangled web of shell companies that had given her so much money.

She sighed sleepily. “Doesn’t the Syndicate have a cyber lab?”