Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal Book 2) Read online

  So fucking good.

  “Come for me,” Kaz urged, his tone a husky whisper, “and I’ll really make it good, krasivaya.”

  Violet let her fingernails dig into the thin skin of his wrist, knowing damn well he’d feel it. She didn’t want soft, and she didn’t fucking need easy, so she wanted to make sure he still understood that.

  “Make me,” she taunted, breathless.

  Kaz sneered. He thrust his fingers a little harder, and his thumb drove into her clit a bit rougher. Another quick curl of his fingers against her G-spot and Violet exploded on the inside, sensations bursting under her heated skin like sparks from live wires.

  It was enough to silence the world around her for just that brief moment. With the relief of the orgasm came a whole slew of emotions as four months just caught right back up to her in a single blink.

  Jesus.

  “Kaz.”

  His name came clawing out of her throat—harsh, high, and broken.

  She wasn't sure what did it for him—what made him snap. Her coming or her screaming out his name. But the cloying sensations of the orgasm weren’t even gone from her bloodstream before he was flipping her over and forcing her to her knees. Blinded by the waves of her hair for a moment, Violet could only take in breath after shuddering breath of air as his hands raked down her sensitive skin.

  Along her sides, back up her spine, then down again, and over the swell of her ass. When his one palm left her backside, she took the chance to inhale, knowing what was coming next.

  The first swat made her sigh.

  The second, placed a little lower, made her fingers curl hard into the sheets.

  The third, landing close enough to her pussy that the tips of his fingers grazed her sex, had her moaning again.

  They hadn’t been sweet or playful.

  Her ass stung, and she felt the heat of the slaps traveling straight to the spot between her thighs. Kaz hummed under his breath, appreciative and sinful.

  “That’s a nice color, Violet,” he said behind her.

  Christ.

  Why was her throat so dry?

  She couldn’t make words form.

  Behind her, he moved on the bed, and she peered over her shoulder, making her hair fall out of the way so she could see again. Kaz kicked off his boxer-briefs before he reached out and grasped her inner thigh, squeezing tight and letting his fingers dig in deep enough to hurt.

  “Wider,” he demanded, his hand sliding up from her thigh to her sex again. Violet complied with his command, feeling him move in behind her again. The hard, thick line of his erection pressing into her backside had her stomach clenching with need again. “And we can’t have this, either, Violet.”

  “What?”

  His hands found hers clenching the sheets. He carefully unfurled her fingers before bringing her hands up and putting them on the small headboard. It was only a foot higher than the bed itself and covered in soft, cool leather.

  “I am going to scratch that all to hell,” Violet told him. “It’ll ruin it.”

  Kaz just laughed. “Someone has to do it. Better it be you than to notice after it’s already been done by someone else, no?”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Maybe so.” Kaz’s hand landed on the other side of her ass with a fast, hard swat, making her yelp at the surprise slap. “Don’t let go, though.”

  Fuck.

  Violet opened her mouth to give him another smart-ass reply, but he leaned over her and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Tugging her head back until the muscles in her neck strained, he watched as she bared her teeth with a hiss right on the tip of her tongue. A sting radiated over her scalp, and it was only intensified when Kaz gave a more playful tug on her hair, chuckling.

  “You know I love your mouth, yes?” he asked.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Then make sure you put it to good use for the next … while.”

  “A while?” she dared to ask.

  Kaz shifted behind her again, and she felt the head of his cock slide against the sliver of her pussy. She focused on that sensation, knowing he was just a flex of his hips away from what she wanted the most—what she had been waiting months for.

  “It’s a two and half hour flight. And I’ve got shit to work through.”

  Violet swallowed audibly but couldn’t hide the shiver crawling down her spine. “I missed you, Kaz.”

  She didn’t have to look back to know he was wearing a smug-as-fuck grin when he said, “I knew you did.”

  Violet didn’t get the chance to prepare for the next moment when his hips flexed forward; his cock stretched her open, and he was filling her full with one hard, deep thrust. She focused on his voice, the hand pulling her hair taut, and that sting keeping her eyes wide and her teeth clenched.

  A whole new ache started.

  Shit, she’d forgotten—or just not realized—his size and girth. Usually, he would have given her some time to adjust or taken her a little slower. Instead, he’d entered her with no warning, and a whine ripped its way past her teeth.

  “Not soft, not easy,” he said behind her, his voice thick and hot in her ear.

  Violet let out a shaky mumble and shook her head. He was pulling out from her body with his next move and thrusting back in instantly. Hard enough to force her forward on the bed and make her grasp the headboard more firmly.

  That initial ache was gone, and with every slide and pull of his body against hers, her nerves snapped and screamed. Every single part of her could feel him somewhere.

  What started out as soft cries and jittery breaths quickly turned into deep moans and pants when he started a fast rhythm, keeping her neck taut and her ass high. Violet pushed back to meet his every thrust, wanting him deeper and needing that slight bite of pain that came with sex when it had been too long.

  “Fuck,” Kaz muttered, “I wish you could see this, Violet. See what I see.”

  Hearing him was enough.

  Feeling him, too.

  She still couldn’t help but peer back over her shoulder, only to find his gaze fixed on the spot where their bodies met. She felt his hand palm her ass roughly, and his thumb slide along the swell as he grabbed tight and stretched her open a little more.

  “So tight—it almost hurts,” he groaned.

  Violet’s teeth sunk into her lower lip as the familiar wisps of pleasure started building in her body again. He must have felt the way her pussy was clamping down on his cock because his next thrust came so much harder, enough for her eyes to fly shut and to make a scream of his name escape her lips.

  She still felt as if she couldn’t breathe, but she was.

  Staccato breaths—but it was there.

  Violet found herself lost in the sensations all over again. The sounds of their fucking, the smell of sex in the air, his gruff voice demanding she fucking take it and fucking come, Violet.

  And so she did—hard, crying, and shaking.

  It was as if they hadn’t even been separated. It was as if that time didn’t exist.

  Not then.

  Not when they were like this.

  The soft knock on the cabin door had Kaz shooting up, wild eyes trying to peer through the darkness of the room. But there was no danger, and he wasn’t in jail anymore. At the moment, several thousand miles above the earth, he was the safest he could ever be.

  “Yeah?” he called, sitting up further, even as he glanced down at the shadowy shape of Violet’s body. She was still out cold.

  “We’ll be landing soon. You have to be seated.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kaz took a moment to get his bearings before he felt around the floor for his pants and shoved his legs into them. Circling the bed, he touched a hand to Violet’s side, shifting it up to her shoulder, and then to the mark he had left behind along the curve of her neck.

  She stirred, her eyes blinking open.

  “We’re about to land.”

  She didn’t question him, merely r
edressed and joined him back in the cabin. Not too long after, he could see the lights of the private runway where they were landing. As they got closer to the ground, he could better see the car waiting for them at the end of it.

  And if the way Violet had stiffened beside him were any indication, she’d noticed it as well.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” he told her as they came to a rolling stop.

  “Are they Russian?”

  Scratching the back of his head, Kaz nodded. “But you’re with me, and that’s all they need to know.”

  Violet still didn’t look convinced, but she would just have to take his word for it, or at least until she formed an opinion for herself. At least they weren’t going to be around the family for the next couple of weeks.

  When they came to a stop, Violet was out of her seat belt first, heading back to the bedroom. “I’ll grab … whatever’s left.”

  Or mentally prepare herself, Kaz thought.

  He was the only Russian she had spent any real length of time with. She didn’t understand their customs, their rules, and was practically stepping into the middle of an unfamiliar environment.

  This was new for her, and he wouldn’t push her.

  The door to the plane buzzed as it fell open, and Kaz pulled out a handful of bills from his pocket, tipping the pilot and flight attendant before going out to meet someone he hadn’t seen in at least a year.

  Upon first glance, Konstantin Boykov didn’t look to be a threat to anyone, but Kaz knew what the man could do with a pocketknife and a little inspiration. Only two years younger than Kaz was, his name was already being whispered; some higher-ups believed he was ready for the very stars Kaz had on his own chest.

  For right now, though, he was second to his father. Still mentoring was how Vadim had described it, but Kaz recognized it for what it was. He was being groomed to take the old man’s spot.

  “Been a while, Markovic,” Konstantin said as he stepped forward, shaking one of Kaz’s hands even as he reached around to clap him on the back. “What have you done this time?”

  Kaz didn’t get a chance to answer before they were both turning at Violet’s sudden appearance as she came down the steps. She hadn’t only gone back for whatever was left behind in the bedroom, but she had also fixed her hair and straightened her clothes further.

  But there was no hiding that purpling bruise he had left her with.

  “Guess you made your point,” Konstantin said with a grin, turning his eyes to Violet. “You’re her, then? Italian, no?”

  “Yes.”

  “And let me guess, Alberto Gallucci’s daughter?”

  Violet glanced at Kaz, a question in her eyes, before she said, “Yeah. How did you know that?”

  “There are only two big Italian families in New York at the moment—your father is the larger of the two.”

  That answer would have been good enough. It explained, while not, at the same time, but Konstantin wasn’t finished.

  “And Kaz has a pair of fucking stones on him. Of course he’s fucking the one who’s going to get him shot the quickest. So where are we headed?”

  It took every ounce of self-control Kaz possessed not to respond to the man, especially when he knew Konstantin was only trying to get a reaction out of Violet. But like any other good Italian principessa, she gave no reaction at all.

  “Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to drive?” Kaz asked, gesturing to the Mercedes behind them.

  Unbothered, Konstantin merely smiled and spun his keys around his finger. “Welcome to Chicago.”

  Violet came awake slowly, knowing she was going to regret opening her eyes once she did. Already, the brightness of daylight was seeping through her closed lids, and there would be no getting out of waking up once she saw the sun.

  Wasn’t Chicago supposed to be overcast and gray?

  She wanted another three hours of sleep, at least. After a plane ride, and then a long enough drive to get to their destination, it had been closing in on well after two in the morning.

  Violet yanked the soft duvet higher over her head in an attempt to pretend she hadn’t seen the damn sunlight.

  “Ah, no,” she heard said from somewhere to her right. “You’re not going back to sleep. It’s almost noon. You need food, yes? I’m hungry too, Violet.”

  That was the only warning she had gotten before the duvet was tugged on hard enough to pull it off her entirely. Glaring, Violet watched a laughing Kaz walk out of the bedroom with a two finger wave.

  Ass.

  At least it’s a nice ass, she thought.

  It took her another ten minutes before she convinced herself to get out of the comfortable bed and attempt to get ready for the day—afternoon.

  Whatever.

  Violet didn’t do well with the lack of sleep. She wasn’t going to pretend otherwise, either. As she went in search of something to put on, she took in the surroundings of the bedroom. She hadn’t been able to do much of that the night before, as she’d been too tired.

  The four-poster bed sat against the back wall with matching nightstands on either side. Despite the neutral shades present throughout the room, someone had clearly taken their time decorating the space to make it feel more welcoming.

  Settling on the dress shirt Kaz had left tossed aside the night before, Violet decided that was good enough until she actually had to get dressed. It wasn’t as if they were going to be entertaining a plethora of visitors, surely.

  And maybe Violet liked that a little bit.

  She liked the thought of a stretch of uninterrupted time with just her and Kaz. Something they really hadn’t been able to have together before. Something else was always getting in the way—their fathers, his job, her curfews.

  Those things didn’t exist here.

  Violet decided to stop being grumpy about being woke up before she wanted to actually get up. There would be no phone calls sending her rushing home and no time constraints pushing them apart again.

  Maybe she’d like Chicago.

  For now …

  The two-level townhouse sported two bedrooms upstairs and another that looked to be an office of sorts as Violet passed it on the way to the stairwell. Along the wall of the stairwell, a few pictures of a city skyline—she suspected it was Chicago—hung in a haphazard fashion.

  Violet stopped for a second, staring at the pictures.

  It made her wonder something.

  This place wasn’t barren. The townhouse was far from empty. It was decorated, filled with furniture, and a familiar Porsche had been sitting in the driveway the night before when they’d arrived.

  Violet knew Kaz had been planning this to some extent.

  She just didn’t realize quite how much until now.

  “Krasivaya?”

  “I’m up,” Violet said, resuming her trek down the last few steps.

  She passed a large living room and a second bathroom as she made her way to a black and white decorated kitchen that sported stainless steel appliances and chrome accents. Leaning in the doorway, Violet admired the sight of Kaz’s bare back as he opened a few cabinets, searching for the things he wanted.

  As he pulled out instant coffee, sugar, and powder creamer, along with two cups, Violet’s smile grew a little more. Each and every shift of his body left her a little more mesmerized.

  Maybe she could understand why he had always enjoyed watching her when she wasn’t looking.

  Clearing her throat, Kaz acted as if she hadn’t surprised him.

  “Are you happy?” she asked. “You got me up.”

  “Very. The place is empty of most things to eat. We can fix that easily enough. I have a bit, though. Coffee, yes?”

  Violet walked a little further into the kitchen, coming to a stop at the island. “Coffee is good.”

  Kaz filled an electric kettle and turned it on before he finally turned around to face her completely. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him only a morning after they’d left New Y
ork and all the craziness they probably created in their wake.

  Concern, maybe.

  A little anxiety.

  Stress, even.

  Kaz was none of that. His smile—lax and easy—only grew as she climbed up to sit on one of the stools. He was already reaching out a hand to take one of hers, before pulling it up to press a quick kiss to her knuckles.

  Smirking a bit, his gaze fell on her neck, and he said, “Unless you don’t care, I hope you have a way to cover that mark, Violet.”

  She refused to feed into his teasing. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Or I won’t.”

  Kaz’s brow lifted; he put her hand back down as the kettle started to boil and then clicked off shortly after. He went back to work making coffee—Violet was convinced it was one of the only things he could do well in a kitchen, besides toss out take-out containers.

  “In the fruit tree,” Kaz said, offering no explanation.

  Violet glanced around for what he was talking about and found a multi-level, metal fruit basket in the shape of a tree sitting in the middle of the table across the kitchen. She went over to retrieve whatever it was he wanted inside. Several restaurant take-out menus rested on the top tier of the basket. Violet found the ones that served breakfast and brought them back to the island.

  Kaz had her coffee waiting by the time she got there.

  He had stolen her seat, though.

  Instead of letting her pick another stool, he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up onto his lap. Without saying a word, he rested his chin on her shoulder, tilting his head just enough so that his nose and mouth brushed her neck while his hand rested possessively high on her bare thigh.

  “Find something you want,” he said, “before it gets too late and they won’t serve breakfast.”

  “Call it brunch.”

  “That word didn’t even exist until lazy, rich women made it up.”

  Violet didn’t bother to argue the point because he was probably right. “What do you want to eat?”

  She felt his smile grow sinful against her skin. “They won’t serve it, krasivaya.”

  Heat pooled deep in the pit of her stomach at his suggestive words. “Stop that.”