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Vuk’s tongue thrust into my mouth, parting my lips and coaxing a moan from my throat. I gasped, and the world snapped back into hyperfocus.

I was no longer underwater; I was in my childhood bedroom, clinging desperately to Vuk for strength while he systematically and expertly obliterated my defenses. He kissed me like a man starved, like he could drink me in for eternity and not be sated. I thrilled at his possessive hold on my neck, and if he weren’t holding me up, I would’ve melted to the floor in a puddle of need.

“More,” I breathed. I tugged at the bottom of his shirt, and he obliged. He pulled back to yank the shirt over his head with one hand before he brought me close again.

He tasted like ice and sin—a combination so intoxicating, I barely noticed when or how the rest of our clothes ended up on the floor.

His skin was hot against mine. I pressed tight against him, loving the way my soft skin molded to the hard planes of his body. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I possessed a hazy recollection of reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this. I was sure they were good reasons. Great ones, even. But they didn’t hold a candle to the desperate, clawingneedinside me.

What happened in the hotel room had been a tease, a taste of what could happen if we let ourselves cross the line we’d so carefully toed.

Well, that line had been annihilated. Demolished by every secret shared, every look exchanged, and every touch stolen, not only today but every other day for the past two months.

I didn’t care if this was wrong. How could something be wrong when it felt so right? And when I was with Vuk, italwaysfelt right, like a sweater that fit perfectly on the first try or a puzzle piece that slotted into place with little effort.

This was where I wanted to be. He was who I wanted to be with.

The air was heavy with our pants and sighs. My head spun, but when he reached for the light switch, I had enough presence of mind to stop him.

We hadn’t come this far to sneak around in the dark.

“No.” My voice was so husky it barely sounded like mine. “I want to see you.”

Vuk stilled. After a long moment, he dropped his hand so it rested by his side, and the urgency of our kiss dissolved into something more languid.

His throat flexed when I dropped my eyes from his face to his torso, soaking him in.

Appreciation hummed in my veins. I didn’t care what strangers or society dictated. Vuk Markovic wasbeautiful.

I didn’t mean the type of beautiful you saw on social media or movie screens—men with gym-chiseled abs and spray-tanned skin, their features nipped and tucked and sculpted into such uniform perfection that they all started to look the same.

His was a raw, primal beauty, free of pretension and vanity. At six foot five, he eclipsed me by a solid seven inches. Thick bands of muscle corded his arms and legs; a light dusting of hair trailed over his chest and past his navel. An old bullet wound and knife scar pitted the skin on his lower left abdomen. They weren’t as stark as the scars on his neck and face, but they were vicious all the same.

His body was a portrait of the life he’d lived—hard, sometimes brutal, but so strong and imposing there was no questioning his raw power. Every scar and every burn was a testament to the trials he’d survived so he could behere, living and breathing and looking like a god of war before he rode off to battle.

Pure magnificence.

I met his gaze again. It was weighted with the tiniest hint of trepidation, like he was waiting for me to run and scream or recoil with disgust.

That trepidation melted into a flare of surprise when I slowly sank to my knees before him.

His lips parted, but I shook my head before he could say a word.

“It’s your birthday,” I said in a low voice. He’d mentioned the occasion when he showed up at my door, so I assumed it was okay to bring it up now. “Just relax…” My hands glided up his thighs. “And let me take care of this for you.”

On the ground, with my knees digging into the carpet and his heated stare burning into my skin, I was eye level with the evidence of his arousal.

It was as gorgeous and intimidating as the rest of him. Long, thick, and so hard I could see the veins pulsing along its straining length. Pre-cum dripped freely from its swollen head.

My mouth watered. When I looked up at him again, his face had darkened with pure lust.

Without taking my eyes off his, I leaned forward and dragged my tongue across his slit. His nostrils flared, but he didn’t make a sound as I licked up every drop of pre-cum before engulfing the tip in my mouth. I grasped the base of his cock with both hands and swirled my tongue around the head, moaning at the salty, masculine taste of him.

I sucked and licked my way down his length, getting him all nice and wet before I took as much of him down my throat as possible. I choked, my eyes welling with tears, but I didn’t let that deter me as I quickly settled into a rhythm. I squeezed and twisted my hands in opposite directions, enjoying the way his cock pulsed while my head bobbed up and down with greedy slurps.

My gurgles and moans mixed with the sloppy choking sounds of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I was on fire, drowning in the taste and heat of him. My clit pulsed with such urgency I almost reached down to touch myself, but I didn’t want to let go of him. Not when a strong hand came down on the back of my head and Vuk finally uttered a deep, guttural groan.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and every nerve ending sparked like live wires in the rain.