Vlad quickly pulled on a pair of clean black tactical trousers and a fresh compression shirt, the fabric stretching over his still-damp skin. Ten minutes later, a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed through the suite. Expecting Vance with a briefing update, Vlad pulled the door open, only to be met with a sudden blur of motion. A strikingly beautiful woman with cascading, dark brown wavy hair launched a high kick aimed directly at his jaw. Vlad's instincts flared as he stepped back with practiced ease, the heel of her boot whistling through the air inches from his face. She used the momentum to step inside, slamming the heavy hotel door shut behind her.
She had an angelic appearance that felt almost out of place in their world of violence, featuring flawless vanilla skin, rosy pink lips, and dark brown eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her cheeks were dusted with a natural pink blush, and she was dressed in a sleek, black turtleneck dress that hit just at her mid-knee. Despite her delicate look, she charged him again, but at five feet even, she struggled to find an opening against Vlad's superior reach and height. He dodged every strike with minimal effort, moving like a shadow around her flurried attacks.
"Beatrice, enough," he said, the command coming out as a low, dangerous growl.
She stopped immediately, her chest heaving as she panted heavily, resting a hand over her heart to catch her breath. "How did I do?" she asked, a playful, triumphant smile breaking across her face. Vlad stepped closer to her, his shadow looming over her smaller frame. "Not bad, but never go against a person with that much of a weight advantage. I could have easily tossed you into the TV," he noted, his voice softening as he closed the distance. Beatrice pouted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest in a mock show of defiance.
Vlad reached out, his hand firm but gentle as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. He leaned down and kissed her passionately, a stark contrast to the cold violence of the mansion hours earlier. Beatrice stepped back, her eyes locked on his as she reached for the hem of her dress. She pulled the black garment over her head and kicked off her boots, revealing a soft, thick figure with a slight, beautiful curve to her tummy. She stood before him in a matching black lace bra and panty set that accentuated her complexion.
Vlad wasted no time stripping off his shirt, his scarred and muscled torso catching the dim light of the room. He scooped Beatrice up in his arms, feeling the warmth of her skin against his, and carried her to the large king-sized bed. Laying her back against the pillows, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent before trailing slow, searing kisses down toward her chest. He expertly unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, his hand cupping her right breast while he began sucking her left breast.
Vlad's focus was as intense and unwavering as it had been during the mission, but now that precision was directed entirely at Beatrice. He moved down the bed, his hands sliding over her hips to smoothly remove her black lace panties, casting them aside. He parted her legs, his broad shoulders fitting firmly between them as he leaned in to taste her.
As his tongue found her, sweet, melodic moans began to fill the quiet hotel room. The sensation was overwhelming; Beatrice's fingers tangled in his damp, black hair, and she began to push against his head, her breath hitching in her throat. Vlad didn't budge. He used his strength to hold her legs apart, his tongue rhythmically striking her most sensitive spots, sending electric shocks of pleasure radiating down her spine and through her entire body.
"Vlad... please, stop, I can't—" she begged, her voice trailing off into a breathless gasp as her back arched off the mattress.
He ignored her plea, knowing her body better than she did in that moment of sensory overload. He stayed relentless, driving her toward a peak that made the dangers of the Nashville night feel like a distant memory. He only looked up for a second, his dark eyes hooded and fierce, watching the flush spread across her vanilla skin before returning to his work, ensuring she felt every ounce of the passion he had been suppressing behind his tactical mask all night.