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Kirill releases my wrists and strokes his hands down my arms. Usually, I’m a ticklish mess, but he knows exactly how much pressure to apply to light up my nerve endings. He grips my waist and then, in one fluid motion, drags me to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees on the floor.
I look down the length of my body and see Kirill there, his green eyes focused at the center of me.
“I will fuck you, but I’m not going to rush.” He hooks his fingers into my panties and slides them down my legs. “I’m going to take my time making you scream.”
I shudder. No one should be able to look that good when they’re talking that dirty.
His full lips are pulled into a smirk and the last bit of evening light is coming in through the window, casting him in harsh relief. He’s light and dark, angel and demon. He’s both sides of the coin. No matter how I flip it, the answer is the same.
When he dips his face between my legs and slides the flat of his tongue over my opening, the truth inside of me rushes out in a single word.
“Please.”
He presses his hand to my stomach, pinning me down while his mouth wrecks me. He teases me with his tongue, flicking my clit until my toes curl.
Then his lips are the center of my world.
I slip my hands through his hair and hold him to me. My thighs box in his ears as I lose control of my body, every fiber of me focused on chasing the feeling he’s working between my legs.
“Don’t stop,” I moan. “Kirill. Please. Don’t—”
The cry is still on my lips when Kirill pulls away.
I blink and it’s like I’m coming up from a deep sea dive. I’m disoriented. He sits up and grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it gently over my head.
I lift my arms, confused. “What are you doing?”
He tosses the shirt over his shoulder and unhooks my bra. “Taking off your bra.”
“But you were—I was—”
“Close. Yeah, I know.” He gives me a smug smile. “That’s why I stopped.”
“I don’t think you understand how sex works.” Based on the relentless quivering between my thighs, it’s obvious Kirill knows more than his fair share about how sex works. I want to devour him and we’ve barely even begun.
“I understand sex—but more importantly, I understand you.” He drops my bra on the floor and takes my breasts in his hands. He palms me with a sigh. “You’re trying to build a wall between us, Rayne. You’re holding back from me.”
“I’m fully naked underneath you. How is this holding back?”
He pinches my nipple and arches a brow. “You know how. Letting you come on my mouth wouldn’t have torn down that wall. Because I don’t need you satisfied—I need you desperate.”
Panic slices through me. “You’re not going to let me come?”
“I will. Just not yet.”
He dips his head and takes my nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around me, and I press myself into him.
There is no pretending I don’t want this. Whatever ability I had to hold myself back, to take the bare minimum of Kirill, is gone. I want all of him right now for as long as he’ll let me.
He kisses over my chest and my collarbone, and I writhe beneath him. Every brush of his skin over mine is enough to make me moan. He’s coaxing my pleasure higher and his pants aren’t even off yet. It’s witchcraft.
“How does this feel so good?” It’s mostly a rhetorical question, one I’m asking the ceiling as Kirill kisses a line down my neck, his hands gripping my waist.
“It’s always been this good between us.”
I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. It isn’t a matter of skill. It’s something intangible. The energy that vibrates between us is physical. I swear scientists could observe changes in the air when we’re together. Being close to Kirill, feeling his hands on my body and his mouth on mine, is a fantasy. I never want to wake up from this. Maybe the torture of delayed pleasure is worth it if the anticipation feels this good.
He lets me push his briefs off his hips, but when I reach for him again, he snatches my arm out of the air. His lips press to the inside of my wrist.
