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“I’ll try.” I swallow. “Will you?”
He considers me for a moment. “What are you asking of me, Katerina?”
“I’m here anyway. I might as well put my skills to good use.”
Studying me with a piercing gaze, he rubs a thumb over the back of my neck. “Are you bored?”
I shrug. “A little.”
He nods. “Fine. I fight. You heal. Happy?”
“Was that so difficult?” I ask with a strained smile.
He smooths his palm up my thigh under the hem of my skirt. “You have no idea.” Walking me backward to the couch, he adds in a soft, low voice, “But you know I’d do anything for you.”
Our bodies are pressed flush together, his erection hard against my stomach. I slide my hands over his chest under his jacket as he tightens his grip on my hip. Holding my gaze, he follows the elastic of my thong with a finger, drawing a path from my side to my lower back. When he realizes my ass cheeks are bare, his gaze darkens. He caresses my left globe with a callused palm, his skin rough on mine. His movements are lazy and gentle, but intensity burns in his eyes.
My body tightens with anticipation, uncertain what to expect when he brushes a finger down my crease. Approval and heat wash over his features when he finds the jewel. I gasp as he presses on the plug, applying soft pressure.
“You’ve been a good girl,” he says in a hoarse voice, lowering his head to mine.
I tilt my face up to give him easier access. He catches my lips in a searing kiss, eradicating our fight, truce, worries, and insecurities. None of those things matter when he reverses positions, sits down, and draws me onto his lap to straddle him. I forget about the imminent danger and the distant future, focusing only on the sound of his zipper as he pulls it down, and on the hot, smooth head of his cock brushing over my inner thigh.
Pulling my thong aside, he tests my folds with a finger. Satisfied that I’m ready, he lifts me to my knees and positions his cock at my entrance. He lets me take him at my pace, reading my face as I lower myself slowly.
The fullness is almost too much, the stretch of his cock with the added pressure of the toy unbearably stimulating. He presses a thumb on my clit, massaging until my inner muscles are supple enough to take him to the hilt.
“Wait,” I say breathlessly, catching his wrist. “I’ll come.”
“Not yet,” he agrees, cupping the side of my head and dragging me closer.
Pressing our lips together, he kisses me with a skill that makes my knees weak. He sweeps his tongue over mine and explores the depths of my mouth before gently nipping my bottom lip. The kiss is unrushed. He keeps still, giving me time to adjust to the new fullness and to enjoy the sensation of him filling me.
After a long period of kissing, he starts moving slowly. I grip his shoulders for balance as he rolls his hips. The sensation is so intense, the penetration so deep, that I throw back my head and moan. He picks up his pace, adding friction to the already overpowering pressure. This pleasure is different. It’s darker. More devastating.
The faster he moves, the higher my need climbs. It rises to a crescendo, but I don’t go over. I can’t, not without some kind of touch on my clit. I slip a hand between our bodies, needing to get there like never before, but he locks his fingers around my wrist, preventing me from touching myself.
I’ll go out of my mind if this intolerable yearning doesn’t stop soon.
He rocks me faster but not harder, keeping the thrusting gentle.
“Alex. I need—”
The rest of my words are cut off as he slams up and steals my breath.
His voice is heated. “I know what you need.”
Moving a hand around my body, he grips the jeweled head of the plug and twists from left to right while pummeling my sex with shallow thrusts. That’s all it takes. I break with a shudder, barely biting off a scream. Release tears through me like a violent storm. He follows a second later, his body going taut as he comes inside me. Instead of pulling out when he’s empty, he makes me ride the aftershocks of my orgasm, prolonging them by keeping pressure on the toy with his palm.
I’ve never come like this, not with this much force and not from this kind of stimulation alone. Collapsing against his body, I rest my forehead on his shoulder and inhale the masculine aroma of his cologne. The familiar smell grounds me as much as his strong hands on my back.
“How are you doing?” he murmurs, nipping my earlobe.
“Mm.” I’m not sure I’ll be able to peel myself off his body, never mind rise to my feet.
