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I groaned, lowering the gun to the bed and rubbing my eyes. “Fucking hell, Yuriy, I can’t with you until I’ve had at least a decent cup of coffee.”

He chuckled, eyes dragging over me in that slow, all-knowing way that made heat crawl up my neck. “I’ll get you some in a minute. It’s the least I can do after you were such a good sport last night. So tell me, on a scale of one to ten, one being ‘ready for round three right now’ and ten being ‘don’t even breathe in the direction of my backside’… how sore are you?”

The answer hit me the moment I tried to shift. Yeah. Sore wasn’t the half of it.

Everything ached. Muscles I forgot existed were staging a rebellion. Apparently, good sex could make a man forget his age. My body was now sending the bill. But even as I winced, the truth sat low in my gut. I’d do it again. Just like a fool in Vegas who’d lost the house, the car, and the shirt off his back, only to limp right back inside the next night, convinced this time he’d win.

Except, staring at Yuriy’s too pleasant face so early in the morning, and feeling the vibrations rippling across my stomach, I didn’t feel like I’d lost last night. I could have done worse. Yuriy was fucking gorgeous, funny, and could behead a man without blinking.

I could have done a lot worse.

Aware of the heat scorching my cheeks, I muttered, “I’m fine.”

“Sure.” He stepped closer, bare legs under an open robe, looking like sin that had woken up early to cause more problems. “And I’m a virgin nun with a quiet personality.”

“Since you already know, why state the obvious?”

He sat at the edge of the bed and sighed, rubbing my ankle. Heat sparked beneath his fingertips and traveled up my spine. He chuckled. “I never thought I was a merciful man, Stas, but here you are proving me wrong.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because you’re looking incredibly breedable so early in the morning, and I’m not even pinning your legs behind your ears.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head with a sigh. “Go take a shower, and you’ll feel better. I’ll get you some breakfast and your coffee, along with some aspirin.”

I frowned. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Don’t worry. It’s for purely selfish reasons.” He gave my ankle one last squeeze, then rose to his full height. “If I don’t have you up and running in no time, it means waiting longer to fuck you again, and that simply won’t do.”

Before I could answer, he turned away, heading toward the door, and something in my chest pinched tight.

Ridiculous.

We’d fucked. That was all. Still… after the night we’d had, some stupid part of me expected something more this morning. Had last night not been as good for him as I’d thought?

The disappointment pissed me off more than the throbbing in my ass. Yuriy grabbed the doorknob, then he stopped. He spun on his heel, squinting. “Shit. Forgot something.”

I arched my brow. “What? Your ego?”

His grin unfurled slowly and wickedly as he crossed back to me. “That’s permanent, babe, so hope you can live with it. This is something else.”

Before I could sit up, he slid his hand behind my head and threaded his fingers into my hair with a tenderness that undercut every smartass syllable he’d uttered all morning. He guided me up, and his mouth met mine, not greedy, not demanding. Just… soft. Intentional. A kiss that stole more than my breath. It stole the last of my defenses, cracked them open like they’d been nothing but cheap glass.

His lips moved against mine with a quiet hunger, a vow he didn’t say out loud, but I felt everywhere, behind my ribs, down my spine, inside the places he’d left sore and shaking. He kissed me like last night I hadn’t been the one to press for something more between us. Like he planned to memorize me. Again and again.

By the time he pulled back, my pulse was punching holes through my throat, and I could barely breathe. Kissing another man shouldn’t be this good, but damn. Yuriy made me feel like I hadn’t been kissed before him.

Yuriy brushed his thumb across my lower lip, eyes warm, void of his sarcasm, which was rare. I wanted to hold on to this side of him.

“Go take that shower, Stanislav. You reek of good sex and bad decisions. Bet you regret asking me to come inside you again after I ate your ass.”

My breath hitched as images flashed through my mind of round two last night. I’d already been sore after round one, but Yuriy’s damn tongue ring inside my ass had given me the sort of confidence that would make a man jump off a high rise without a parachute. And although he’d been less intense, more considerate of my lack of experience, he was still huge, and the pain was inevitable.

I was relieved when he walked out of the room, leaving me alone. Shame roiled through me at how long it took me to maneuver my frame off the bed. I groaned at the specks of blood on the fitted sheet. Not enough to be alarming, but enough to confirm I’d officially lost every functioning brain cell letting that bastard fuck me that hard my first damn time.

No wonder I felt like hell.

Gingerly, I shuffled to the bathroom, the kinks in my body gradually announcing themselves one by one. Every step made my hips protest. My thighs trembled, my lower back throbbed, and my stomach gave a tight, warning cramp.

Christ. Just how far had that bastard’s cock been inside me anyway? Felt like he’d rearranged my damn organs. Probably signed his name somewhere up near my diaphragm.