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His muscles lock. His grip tightening around her.

“It’s just work…stuff.”

“Oh, really?” She jumps into his arms without warning, yet he catches her effortlessly, her legs locking around his waist while a soft laugh flutters from her lips.

“Yes,” he murmurs against her lips, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Is she pretty?” she asks. “Hot?”

He exhales through his nose. “I don’t know, Vivienne.” His voice is low, rough, his lips grazing hers again.

“I wasn’t really looking at her.” He lowers into the leather couch, with her still wrapped in his arms.

He wasn’t really looking at Sasha Lachowski, the shrink. If not that he has a photographic memory, he doubts he would have remembered what she was even wearing. He was focusing more on her voice than her body.

“Why?” She kisses his jawline tenderly, her hips moving slowly as she grinds against him, the friction sending a lightning bolt to his spine, his cock hardening impossibly.

“I wasn’t interested in her.”

She pulls his lips into hers, deep and insistent, as if tasting for a lie. He lets her. He gives her everything, gripping her tighter, pressing her closer, like maybe if he holds her hard enough, she won’t slip away into the hands of another man.

“Why?” She breathes into his mouth, voice breaking on a moan as she rocks against him again, and again, her heat seeping through his clothes.

His fingers bury in her wild fiery hair, tilting her head to claim her deeper, his tongue sliding against hers, drinking her in.

And somewhere at the back of his mind, he wonders again how he knew how to do this so well when he was inexperienced until yesterday—kiss her like this, make her feel this way, control the pretty sound that breaks past her fucking lips because he’s making her feel so good.

“Why weren’t you interested in her, Snow white?” she breaks away from the kiss, her lips swollen, eyes shining with lust.

“She isn’t you,” he rasps. “I’m only interested in you.”

A small sound escapes her, pleased, breathless “Clever soldier. You get a pass.” Then she resumes grinding against him, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, mixing with the heady musk of him, of them.

His restraint shatters.

He wants her. No, he needs her. He needs her to need him, not Zev. Never Zev.

If she ever has to choose, he needs her to choose him, not Zev.

His hand slides down her top, tracing up her back, savoring the way her breath hitches, wondering if this was the same way Zev made her feel. He grips the fabric of her thin top and pulls, tossing it aside.

Her breasts spill into his awaiting palms, soft, warm, perfect.

His mouth is on hers in an instant, open-mouthed kisses trailing down her collarbone, then lower, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak of her nipple before he pulls it into his mouth, sucking, biting, her moans filling the room.

“Lucan,” she gasps, arching against him.

A low growl settles in his throat as he nips harder, his cock an iron rod straining against his pants, the friction nearly unbearable.

Then her fingers claw at his chest. “Wait.”

His body stalls, frustration licking through his veins. His grip tightens when she tries to pull away from his hold.

“Just…wait.”

His teeth grind as his arms reluctantly loosens around her, his breath ragged.

Then she sinks to her knees.

A flicker of realization sparks in his eyes, the fire burning hotter when her fingers ghost down his thighs, hovering over the straining bulge in his pants.

She hesitates, cheeks flushed as she works at his belt, the metallic click of buckle sending a thrill through him. The zipper follows, slow, deliberate.

She tugs at his pants and briefs, struggling for a moment before he lifts his hip, letting her pull them down to his knees.

A sharp breath hisses past her lips when his cock springs free, thick and curving, already leaking.

Her throat moves in a tight swallow, wide eyes flickering to his. Pride gleams in there. She did this. She made him this hard. This desperate.

“Just so you know,” she whispers, gathering her hair into a loose bun. “I’ve never done this before.”

His gaze sharpens. “Never?” For some reason, he’s excited. She has never gone on her knees for any man before. She didn’t go on her knees for Zev.

She did it for him. She’s on her knees for the first time, and it’s for him. Pride sparks in his chest, the thrill sending a jolt to his dick. A sense of power surging through him.

“Saw a video once.”

He quirks a brow. “A video?”

“I didn’t go there on purpose,” she says quickly, rolling her pretty eyes. “I was looking for a movie on a pirated website. And it just floated into the screen.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, but it vanishes the moment her warm hands wrap around his shaft.

A low groan vibrates through him. “And you watched it instead of clicking out?”

She shrugs. “For days just like this, obviously.”

The teasing words barely registers as her thumb begins to rub slow circles on his pulsating head, spreading his precum.

“Do you think it’ll fit?” she asks innocently, parting her lips as she brushes her tongue over the head.

Lucan curses under his breath, his jaw clenching. “Only one way to find out.”

Her lashes flutter and then she takes him in, lips stretching, tongues swirling, cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

A strangled sound tears from his throat. His fingers thread through her hair, gripping the back of her skull as his hips twitch, shoving his cock deeper into her mouth.

And she takes it, all of him. She fucking takes it, gagging, swallowing, her throat flexing around him.

“Vivienne,” he nearly whimpers, chest heaving, his hip jerking against her.

She speeds up, her dark eyes locked on him, lips sliding over him, tongue teasing the sensitive ridge beneath the head.

His cock throbs violently, his body shaking, his eyes rolling in as a series of guttural sounds break past his parted lips.

He wants to stay here, buried in her mouth forever.

But he wants more.

He yanks at her head, a gasp leaving her lips. Before she can utter a word, he has pulled her onto his lap. She doesn’t hesitate as she raises her hip, shedding her plaid skirt and sinking down, taking him in the hilt in one slick, hot slide.

They both gasp, clutching at each other as air is knocked out of their lungs.

He buries his face into her neck, gripping her ass, thrusting harder and deeper, calling out her name just as she calls his, nails biting into her shoulder.

“God, you’re perfect, Vivienne,” he groans, pressing her sweaty body harder against his as he slams into her tight hole with desperate, punishing thrusts, as if trying to carve his very name into her.

She’s shattering in his arms, her body locking, pussy clenching, the raw sound of his name slipping from her lips undoing him completely.

He slams into her, again and again, each thrust deeper than the last, his fingers digging into her trembling thighs as he comes inside her, heat surging, his vision going white.

A loud cry tears from her throat as she clenches around him a second later, exploding all over his cock.

She collapses against him, breathless, and so is he. Her arms tighten around his neck, her head burrowed between the crook of his neck, soft lips brushing the bold ink on his neck as she whispers, “Snow white?”

“Yes?” The pad of his thumb rubs soothing circles on her hip, his cock still throbbing inside her walls.

“I really, really like you a lot.” She places a soft kiss on his searing skin. “Like a lot.”

“Me too.”

His hold on her tightens as he presses her harder against his chest. Keeping her locked in his arms.

Maybe, just maybe, no other man can take her away from him after all. Not even Zev.