Page 17

SEVENTEEN

T he moment Bess’s suite door clicked shut behind them, Charov’s hands were on her, pressing her back against the cool stone wall as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Bess gasped into him, her fingers clutching the lapels of his suit jacket. His lips were demanding, his tongue sweeping past hers with a possessiveness that made her knees buckle. She had never been kissed like this—like he couldn’t get enough, like she was the only thing he had ever wanted. It was intoxicating and overwhelming, and she found herself gripping him tighter, her body arching into his as if it had a mind of its own.

“Charov,” she breathed when he finally broke the kiss, her voice shaky and her chest heaving. His name tasted like honey and heat on her tongue.

He didn’t respond, instead trailing his lips down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below her ear. She let out a whimper she didn’t know she was capable of, her hands sliding under his jacket to push it off his broad shoulders. He obligingly shrugged out of it, his hands never leaving her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he growled against her throat, his voice rough with need. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping the fabric of her emerald dress. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” she replied quickly, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “Please.”

One sharp tug and her dress pooled at her feet, leaving her standing there in nothing but her bra and panties. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze raking over her curves with a hunger that made her feel like the most desirable woman in the universe. She had never felt this way before—confident and wanted, utterly consumed by the way he looked at her.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands sliding up her hips, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive skin between her collarbones, and Bess gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed his way lower.

When his mouth closed over one lace-covered nipple, Bess let out a moan that echoed through the room. The heat of his tongue through the fabric was almost too much, and when he pulled the bra aside to replace the lace with his mouth, she nearly came undone. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he lavished attention on her breasts, switching between them with a skill that had her panting.

“Charov,” she gasped, her hands roaming over his shoulders, down his chest, desperate to feel more of him. She managed to undo the last button of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, revealing the defined muscles of his chest and abs. His skin was warm under her palms, every inch of him hard and perfect.

He straightened, catching her lips in another searing kiss as his hand slid down her stomach, slipping under the waistband of her panties. Her breath hitched as his fingers found her slick folds, teasing her with slow, deliberate strokes.

“You’re so ready for me,” he growled against her lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you want, Bess.”

“You,” she managed to say, her voice breathless. “I want you.”

His fingers pressed deeper, curling inside her, and Bess cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. He didn’t stop, his thumb circling her swollen clit as his fingers worked her with a rhythm that had her seeing stars. Her hips moved against his hand, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as pleasure coiled tight in her core.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “Let go, Bess.”

It was the permission she didn’t know she needed. Her body shattered, her climax crashing over her in wave after wave of pure ecstasy. She clung to him, her head falling back against the wall as she rode out the intense pleasure, her moans filling the room.

When she finally came down from her powerful orgasm, her legs trembling and her breath ragged, Charov pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice soft but laced with the same hunger that had driven them both to this point. Bess could only smile, her body still tingling with the aftermath of pleasure, her heart racing with the promise of what was yet to come.

Before she could think, Charov lifted her naked body off the ground, his hands firm and possessive on her hips. Bess let out a soft gasp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried her to the four-poster bed. The cool silk sheets brushed against her skin as he set her down gently, his eyes never leaving hers. The hunger in his gaze caused her heart to race.

She reached for his belt buckle, her fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled with the clasp. Charov’s low chuckle sent a shiver through her. “Need help with that?” he teased, his voice rough with desire.

“I’ve got it,” she replied, her voice breathless but determined. She managed to undo the buckle and pull his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, and Bess couldn’t help but stare. She had never seen anything like it—long, thick, and perfectly formed, a testament to his shifter heritage. A thrill of anticipation ran through her, her core clenching in response.

She wrapped her hand around his length, her fingers barely able to meet around his girth. She began to stroke him slowly, her touch tentative at first but growing more confident as she felt him pulse in her hand. Charov’s breath hitched, gripping her shoulders as he watched her with hooded eyes.

“Bess,” he growled, his voice strained. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it starts.”

She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

He sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for her to stand in front of him. His large hands soon reached for her hips as he guided her to straddle him. “Take control,” he said, his deep voice a low rumble that sent heat pooling between her legs. “I want to watch you.”