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“What’s wrong?”
She pulled back. Unacceptable. “Nothing is wrong. You feel so right. So fucking right.”
Sasha grabbed his face. Maintaining her unacceptable distance of inches apart. Fucking inches. “You don’t have to say that.”
“Ved’ma, I don’t have to fucking say anything. I’m not going to fucking lie to you. I’ll keep my mouth closed if I don’t want to tell you something. But I won’t fucking lie.”
He traced her lips, taking in every drop. There was no Ismailov who couldn’t hold his liquor. So, he’d never had more than a mild buzz from the most potent alcohol. But this was what being tipsy felt like. More than tipsy. Fucking drunk.
“If your lips taste this good, how will your fucking pussy taste? I may not be ready.”
“We don’t have to do that. I mean… oral. It’s okay… I heard everybody doesn’t like it, anyway.”
The girl was insane. Had to be. He shook his head. Standing her up between his legs, he held her steady as she wobbled on her feet between his thighs. She’d worn another of her loose t-shirts and her yoga pants. The way they held on to her curves made him jealous as hell. He wanted to rip the material caressing those long legs from her body and replace them with his hands and lips.
He balled his fist to keep from doing just that. Instead, he worked his fingers under her shirt and opened the hooks of her bra. Kissing the sides of her face and sucking her jaw bone like a hungry man hoping for meat. Working his way from her jaw down the long column of her neck. She wore no perfume, but her scent drove him wild. It was her. All her. He dug his nose into the dent between her shoulder bone and clavicle. Sniffing for more of her unique aroma. It was wild and fresh, and sunshine and sweat, and fun. That was it. She smelled like life. If anybody ever asked him, that would be his answer until he died. Sasha Velle smelled like life.
His hands loosened the bra to squeeze the firm globes of her breasts. Rolling and mashing them over the wall of her ribs. Her nipples pressed into his palms. Engraving his hands like sacred stigmata, delivering something divine.
He tore his face out of her neck. Lifting the shirt over her head, taking the bra with it. His eyes feasted. Devouring what he now owned. He’d fumed at the thought of her internet pictures. But those pictures were a stick figure reproduction of the Mona Lisa. Incomparable. “Fucking gorgeous.”
He slid down the bed to traverse the distance to her breasts. Kissing the mounds. Her full breasts mushroomed and rose under his ministrations. Turning his dick titanium-hard. Slow down, pace yourself. Don’t fuck this up. His mouth clamped down on the feast he presented by his palms.
She moaned, or was it a whimper? He lifted his head to see. Was she still with him? Was he going too fast? Too slow? Damn, he was fucking this up.
“No,” he growled.
“No?” she whimpered. Definitely a whimper. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, Babe, of course not. I’m just fighting every instinct I have to push you down and fuck you hard and fast.”
Her lips… her pretty, pretty lips, turned up in a smile that creased the dimples on each side. “Sounds fun. But maybe not the first time.”
He smiled. “I get it. You’re not ready for the full ride. And lucky for you. I understand.” He kissed her again. “You must not have heard me earlier. If you don’t get off, it’s not your fault. A man is responsible for his woman’s pleasure.”
Her brows drew together, but she let him kiss the frown away. A quick kiss to soothe her. But her lips were as intoxicating as before. As if she were a magic potion, and the elixir only deepened the spell every time he drank from them.
Now he moaned. Whimpered. Damn, witch. Ved’ma.
He rolled her onto the comforter. Taking her hands when she would have covered herself.
“Stop doing that.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Hmm, do you need me to tie your hands down?”
Her mouth dropped open, and she squealed. “What? No? No. Definitely not.”
“It might help.”
“I think I’m okay.”
He arched his brow. “Show me.” She tightened her hand shields. “Sasha, show me your breasts. Let me see what you’ve hidden away from everyone else. Let me see my treasure.” He patted the black waistband of her pants.
Her mouth flew open, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t. I mean. I shouldn’t. I…” Was she going to bolt? Back out on her word?
What the fuck? He wasn’t letting her go. Even if they didn’t have sex. He had a week, and he wanted every damn day.
