Absolution

I sometimes think readers 'stalk' certain stories. THey hover and wait, then pounce even before you PM them. Ah well...it is a bit ego-boosting :lol:

Good story. I'm waiting though for the name of the mole...

;) :eek:
 
That's what I am supposed to do...When a story is as good as this...
anyway can't wait to read...
gonna print it out and review later cause I gotta run...


I can't believe you didn't tell us who the mole is...
Why is Irina in the hospital...
Can't wait for more...
Update again soon.
 
A/N--> First off, sorry for the long wait everyone, my life has literally been insane the past 4-6 weeks. I'm going to have little down time soon (I hope)
I hope you like the new chapter and Big thanks to Bev and Helen for beta-ing, you are awesome!

Previously:
Kat and Sark set up the mole. Kat met with him, got a confession and video taped it. The mole thinks that Kat is dead and that Sark fired the last bullet, killing her. Sark drives away with Kat in his trunk and when he pulls over to get her own, she is hysterical and covered in blood. He pulls off her clothes trying to find out is she has been hurt, but she hasn’t. For the first time Kat came to grips with who the mole is. She has a curt conversation with Irina, and angered at Kat’s reaction to her mother Sark pins her to the balcony railing and gives her a piece of his mind. He asks her to stay and work with him and kisses her. Kat finally pulls away and refuses. She angers him by calling him an assassin and leaves.


Absolution
Chapter Nine
Rated AA


Sark wondered if he'd subconsciously felt her watching him sleep and that was why he'd woken. Maybe it was the presence of another person in the room, or the dreams of her, that left him restless. Regardless of what it was, Sark woke to find Kat sitting on the chair beside his bed. Her legs were tucked tight to her chest and her chin rested on her knees.

"Katia?" he was startled to find her there in the dark. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer him at first; she was distracted, lost in her own thoughts.

"Katia?"

"I'm fine, I just couldn't sleep," she explained.

"What’s troubling you?"

She lifted her chin off her knees as she spoke. "I saw the picture you dropped in Morocco. We've known each other a long time haven't we?"

"I suppose you could say that," he agreed.

"I need to know something." Kat slid off the chair, climbed onto his bed and knelt beside him.

Sark sat up, leaning against the headboard. "What is it?"

"When I was in Russia with Alexander Khasinau, you were there, I remember you. You gave me a doll for my birthday, Sophie."

"What’s this about?"

Kat took a deep breath. “This afternoon, you said we were meant to work together. What did you mean?"

"I don't want to discuss this with you."

Sark moved to sit up, but Kat rose to her knees and placed her hands on his chest, forcefully pushing him back down. "No," she said in a low voice. "I want to know why I know you so well. When I was four years old, Irina came to visit me in Moscow, you were there. She said I had blood all over me. I don't remember, what happened?"

"Katia-"

"Tell me!"

"You killed a man," Sark said flatly. "You slit his throat." Sark closed his eyes, feeling Kat pull away in shock.

"No," she stated. "You're wrong, I wouldn't do that."

"It wasn't your fault," he tried to appear reassuring, but it was not in his nature. "You were under a type of hypnosis; Khasinau used it to train us both. The training is why we work so well together, why we were meant to work togethe."

"I don't understand, why would he do that? We were just kids."

"He wanted the best. He wanted to turn us into the best. We never knew what we did."

"But how do you know?"

"I saw a video," Sark explained.

"That must be what happened in Moscow when Papa took me," Kat realized. "There were gaps in my memories, things I don't remember happening. How I got from one place to the other, and burns I don't remember feeling."

"It's quite likely," Sark agreed. "I believe Petrov Khasinau was involved in our training as well."

"Thank you, for telling me the truth," Kat said softly. "Not everyone does that."

"I will always tell you the truth, Katia," Sark promised.

Kat nodded and swallowed hard. "Thank you," she said softly and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Her lips touched his cheek briefly and delicately, before moving to his lips. Sark was taken aback; this was not the same girl who had pushed him away mere hours before. He leaned back against the headboard and she followed, moving to straddle his waist. It was difficult to keep up with her. Kat's kisses were fast and furious, demanding his full attention and compliance. It appeared that she was in complete control of the situation.

Kat sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping at it slightly as she unbuttoned his shirt. She pulled away from his mouth and lowered her lips to his chest as she quickly spread the shirt over his shoulders, ridding his body of the garment. His skin was warm, and she grazed her lips over it lightly without much pressure, just enough to feel; men liked that, she knew.

Sark groaned, arching his black slightly as Kat's tongue flicked lightly over his nipple. She was wearing one of his shirts, white Italian silk that drew his attention to its hem. His hands slid to her bare knees, then up her slender thighs to the small of her back. His fingers fumbled with the elastic of her panties; threading the material between his thumb and forefinger.

"Katia…" her name came from his lips in a quiet moan. She'd found the spot on the side of his collarbone which drew the breath from his lungs. His hands moved to her shoulders, and then the buttons on her shirt; he had to touch her. His fingers quickly unsnapped the buttons on his shirt and pushed it off her shoulders.

Sark glanced up at Kat. Her eyes were closed and she moved rhythmically atop him, grinding her hips against his while holding his shoulders for support. She was quiet, not making any noise at all.

He palmed a breast in one hand, tweaking her nipple with his thumb and forefinger. She was small, smaller than he generally preferred. But his Katia was unlike any woman he'd ever been with; everything about her was tiny, yet exquisite. Oddly, she seemed to know exactly what to do to please him. Her skin felt like silk and she trembled slightly as he drew his hands over her lower back; he could feel the traces of her scars with his fingertips. The scars angered him; he felt responsible.

Sark leaned up and caught her breast in his lips, sucking her nipple. His hands drifted lower and he began to stroke her. She shuddered slightly. "Katia?" She didn't answer, but Sark felt a splash of wetness on his forehead and he looked up. Her eyes were vacant, staring wide-eyed at the wall, but not really seeing anything. Tears snaked down her cheeks, and Sark remembered her shudder; it wasn't in pleasure, but fear. She was afraid of him, of what he could do to her, of what he knew men had done to her. He called her name again, still she did not answer.

Sark grabbed her waist and pulled her off him. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. He cupped his hands over his cheeks, "Katia, I apologize. I forgot what happened to you and I should not have continued it. Why did you do it; why did you start this?" He had her attention now.

Kat blinked, tears slipping down her cheek. She pulled her shirt closed holding it tight to her body. "I wanted to thank you," she answered tearfully.

"To thank me?" Sark asked. "Katia, you can't use sex like that!"

"Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what all men want?" she asked. "You wanted it before…"

"No," Sark shook his head. "Katia, you cannot use sex like that. You cannot use your body to get what you want. That is what you were planning was it not? To seduce me for more information about our past?"

"No," Kat interrupted. "That wasn't it at all. You helped me; you saved my life and uncovered the mole. I owe you. I just wanted to please you, to thank you."

"You never need to thank me." Sark reached out and began buttoning her shirt. "You've been hurt by men, ones who have used you and treated you in ways that no human being should ever endure. What they did to you was reprehensible and it was not love - sex is not love."

Kat wiped her cheeks using the back of her hand. "You don't want me, Julian?" her voice trembled slightly. "I'm not desirable to you?"

Sark sighed and trailed his fingers after hers, drying her cheeks. "Katia, that wasn't what I meant."

"But you stopped," she pointed out.

"I stopped because you were crying, you were afraid of me, you didn't want this." Sark nudged her chin to face him. "Katarina, you are a beautiful and desirable woman, but you are still quite young and you have a difficult past that can not be easily overcome imply because you want to. There is no shame in that."

"Julian…" Kat paused, unsure of what his reaction would be. "Could I stay with you here, just for tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course," his voice was reassuring.

Sark lay down on the bed beside her. She turned on her side to face him and looked in to his eyes, searching for an explanation. At that moment he wasn't Sark, she barely even recognized him as Julian. He was a man, a new, kind man, hidden under layers of disguise. He was a man she could never have imagined existed. One who cared for her, cared about her, and that was something she wasn't at all accustomed to. Aside from Eric, she'd never slept beside a man who didn't want something from her. She was nervous, but not scared of him, not anymore.

"Did you mean what you said?" she whispered. "Someday a man will want me, even though I'm…" her voice trailed off searching for the right words, "damaged."

"You are not damaged." Sark said firmly. "You are healing and any man would be crazy not to want you."

"But not you?" she interrupted.

"Not now, it's not right," he answered. Sark brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Katia, I want to show you something, if you'll allow me. I want you to feel something that you likely have never experienced before. I want you to know that sex isn't about pain or the power of a man, it is about what you feel and it can be good."

Kat looked down at where Sark's hand lay on her upper thigh; his fingers moved in small circular motions over her skin. She could feel her body tensing at the contact. "Will it hurt?"

Sark barely heard her question, she'd spoken so softly. "It may be a little uncomfortable at first, but I won't hurt you and if you tell me to, I will stop. You will need to trust me."

"I do trust you," she whispered. "Okay, you can do it."

"You're certain?"

"Yes."

His eyes never left hers as he continued his ministrations and moved up the inside of her thigh.

Kat's eyes grew wide and she tensed even more, her body becoming rigid, until she finally began to listen to Sark's instructions to relax.

Whether she liked it or not, she would allow him to do what ever he wanted to her. She owed him.


Well... I'm intrigued to know what you think.
 
Hey i really like this. I read redemption and really enjoyed it! Absolution is definately living up to my expectations! I really like the Kat and Sark interaction.
They both have great strong character
 
Back
Top