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Yanking on his belt and sliding his zipper down, he gasps when I take out his cock, giving him a slow stroke. “Does it feel good having someone else's hand on you?”

I rub my thumb across the tip, letting his precum spread, and he moans an answer that I’m assuming is a yes. Sinking to my knees, my towel brushes against the backs of my thighs, a tiny detail that calls attention to the fact I’m basically naked.His breathing hitches as my tongue takes one long drag from the base to the tip and back again.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” He rests his head against the headboard and exhales. I take him in my mouth, using my hands to compensate for where my mouth can’t accommodate, and glide up and down. His moans and hastened breaths spur me on. His fingers lace through my hair as I press my tongue flat against the underside of his dick. He guides me, quickening my pace. His breathing becomes erratic as his moans fluctuate between cursing in Russian and French.

“Katya, I’m close,” he warns, with a fiery intensity I’m getting used to seeing in him. He gasps and shivers as he releases. Once he regains control, he lifts me off my knees and our eyes meet.

I didn’t expect more. Correction… I didn’t need more. Wanting him was dangerous. And now I’ve already shot the shit out of professionalism and my morals.

With one quick motion, he tears the towel from around my breasts and throws it on the bed. His eyes widen as he takes me in. My hand covers the battle scars from a past mission, long faded but still visible in the light. But I hide nothing else, my bare breasts and the wetness between my thighs on full display.

He reaches for my hand and pulls it away, his finger brushing against the scar on my ribs. He leans forward, his breath warming my skin as he brushes his lips against the healed wounds. His lips travel up my chest and land along the underside of my breast. He grazes his teeth against it and the feeling jolts to my core.

Underboob, who knew it was that sensitive?

While his mouth continues its exploration, his hands continue their own path, with no rhyme or reason where they want to touch—my back, my ass, dipping between my thighs and circling back to my breasts. And with each new discovery, he moans in satisfaction.

He works his way to my neck before whispering, “You took it too far, and now I need time to recover.”

His teeth scratch across my neck and I sigh, sinking into him. “I’m not sorry about that.”

I can feel his smile against my cheek. “I know you’re not. I’m going to make you come until you think you can’t take it anymore.” His lips move to my earlobe when he whispers, “That’s when I will fuck you like I’ve imagined.”

Well it’s hard to argue with that logic.

Chapter

Eighteen

Katya

He lays me on the bed with a gentleness like I’m the most precious Fabergé egg, or a new cell phone just out of the box. His soft kisses and feather light caresses tease as he makes his way over my stomach.

“Oh, watch your shoulder.”

He lifts his head, and grins at me. “Spread your legs as far as they will go.”

I comply, grateful I’ve been working on my hip flexors during the chair yoga I’ve been doing on my time off.

He takes a step back, taking in the sight. “Fuck, Katya. I can see from here how wet you are for me.”

Heat burns through my body at the desire in his voice. He vanishes from my vision and I feel him lick my core, the warm wet action making my back arch. His tongue swirls and licks, everywhere but where I crave. He teases me with quick kisses on my clit, but nothing more. My heart races as the slow torture builds, the anticipation and tension of a promise he made.

“Please,” I say as he brushes past my clit more times than I would care to admit.

He latches on, sucking until my body swells and I can’t control my rapid breaths. My fingers dig through his hair, keeping him in place. The pleasure builds from my core and spreads through my chest to my fingers, and the rush of pleasure consumes my body as I shake and cry out, “Yes!”

He growls, “My name only,” and resumes pleasuring me like his life depends on it, adding two fingers and pumping away at a ruthless speed.

I’m still coming down for my first one when the second orgasm rips through me, and there’s no time to speak. I get another annoyed growl. My chest feels like it’s going to explode. He’s filled with contradictions—brutal and gentle, consuming me with pleasure to the point it’s painful.

“Dimitri, please.”

He slows his assault on my clit but continues with his fingers. “Please what?”

“Fuck me,” I pant. My whole world is him. My body hums alive and I feel like I could die at any minute.

“No.”