"You need to be more careful," I murmur, cleaning the area gently before applying a fresh bandage.
"I'm fine."
"You were shot."
"And I'm still here." His hand catches mine, stilling my movements.
The words make my throat tighten. I finish securing the bandage, then reach for the bottle of antibiotics on his desk. "Have you been taking these?"
"Yes."
"When was the last dose?"
He sighs, clearly exasperated by my fussing. "This morning."
I check the label to confirm the timing, then set the bottle back down. "You need to stay on schedule. Infection is?—"
Andrey pulls me into his lap before I can finish the sentence, his good arm wrapping around my waist. The movement is sudden enough that I gasp, my hands bracing against his chest.
"Andrey, your shoulder?—"
"Is fine," he says firmly, his mouth finding mine.
The kiss is demanding, possessive, and it steals whatever protest I was about to make. His tongue slides against mine, tasting and claiming, and heat floods through me despite my concern for his injury.
I try to pull back, to remind him that he needs to rest, but he won't let me. His hand slides up my spine, tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss. When he finally releases my mouth, we're both breathing hard.
"We can still have sex," he says, his voice rough. "Just watch my shoulder."
"That's a terrible idea."
"Best idea I've had all day." His hand slides down to grip my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I can feel how hard he is through his pants, the evidence of his desire pressing against my core.
"You're impossible," I breathe, but I'm already shifting in his lap, straddling him properly in the office chair.
"And you love it." His mouth finds my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
He's right. God help me, he's right.
He pushes my shirt up and over my head and I reach between us, working the button of his pants. My bra follows quickly, andthen his mouth is on my breast, tongue circling my nipple until I'm squirming against him.
I manage to free his cock, wrapping my hand around the thick length. He's already hard, already leaking, and the sight makes my core clench with need. I stroke him slowly, watching his eyes darken with lust.
"Mariya," he warns, his voice strained.
I lift up enough to push my jeans and underwear down my thighs, not bothering to remove them completely. Then I position myself over him, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
"Careful," I remind him, my hand bracing against his good shoulder.
"Always." His hand grips my hip, guiding me down onto him.
The stretch is intense, perfect, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. He fills me completely, every thick inch of him buried deep. For a moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe, adjusting to the sensation.
Then I start to rock my hips, slowly and deliberately, taking him deeper with each movement. Andrey's grip on my hip tightens, his other hand sliding up to cup my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core.
"That's it," he murmurs, his pale eyes locked on mine. "Ride me."
I increase my pace, lifting and dropping onto him with more force. The chair creaks beneath us, but I don't care. All I care about is the feeling of him inside me, the way his cock hits that perfect spot with every thrust.
