“Kitty is a kitten, we have to go…” Louis decided to say, touching her hair with his lips. They had several hours to sack this city, and the time was running out. Kit sighed, lifted her head, muttered something in Russian, and dropped it back. It could be “yes, of course”, “I don’t want to go anywhere” or “go to hell” - his choice. She was, of course, tired because of the night flight and the sex marathon they had arranged. Lou, too, would gladly send everything away and would not get out of this bed for another year. But - it is necessary. It is necessary, it is necessary,...