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“Are you going to be smug now?”
“Smug about what?” he asks, playing dumb.
I should turn around and leave him here alone. That would teach him.
But who am I kidding? I can’t walk away.
I meet his eyes “You know why damn well we’re here,Mr. Viktorov.”
“I know it must be important for you to tempt yourself like this,Ms. Quinn.” He looks around at the bed and the couch. “We only have a few hours left until the wedding, and I know how important it is for you that we wait until after we’re married to have sex. Walking into this room must be difficult for you.”
“Difficult for me?” I shake my head as I shrug out of my jacket. “No. It isn’t difficult for me. It is a little hot, though. Are you hot?”
Timofey is still smiling, but he’s watching my movements with suspicion now. “No. I’m not hot.”
“Really?” I fan my face and pull at the already low-cut neckline of my shirt. “I’m roasting.”
“Then say what you need to say so we can get out of this room.”
Is that a note of panic in my husband-to-be’s voice? It’s rare to see Timofey on the defensive. He’s used to controlling whatever narrative he’s a part of. But the last eight weeks have been painfully long for him, too.
He’s every bit as tempted as I am.
“I would, but I can’t think back here. It is so hot.” In one move, I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head.
I just had a baby eight weeks ago, so I know I look different. My body is soft in new places and stretched in others. But based on the look on Timofey’s face, he doesn’t mind one bit.
His smile is gone now. His eyes are black holes of desire, raking over every inch of exposed skin. He grits his teeth. “Piper.”
“Yes?” I run a hand over my chest and lower, fiddling with the button of my high-waisted jeans until they pop open. “It’s so hot in here… I’m dripping.”
Timofey doesn’t miss the double entendre. His gaze slips lower. “What are you doing, Piper?”
I hook my fingers in the waist of my jeans and shimmy them over my hips. “I know you were playing dumb before, but this is getting ridiculous. You know what I’m doing, Timofey.”
“Then tell me.”
I kick my jeans off and stand in front of him in nothing but his favorite lacy green lingerie. Maybe this isn’t as spontaneous as I thought. I might have had a plan when I got dressed this morning.
“Do we have to play the ‘I told you so’ game? Am I supposed to admit that I was wrong and you were right? Will that please you? Will that make you hard, my don?”
He groans and licks his lower lip. “Say it, Piper. Say you need me. Tell me that you can’t wait another fucking second.”
“I could do that.” I walk towards him slowly, one foot in front of the other. I stop in front of him and drag a hand over his muscled chest. Then I drop to my knees, my fingers tracing the bulge in his pants. “But I think actions speak louder than words.”
Timofey is vibrating by the time I slide his zipper down. When I wrap my lips around his length, he leans his head back, a deep moan unfurling from his chest.
I work my tongue over him, swirling and sucking. His hand rests gently on the back of my head, but as I continue, the pressure becomes firmer. He pulls me towards him as he bucks into my mouth. I grip his hips as he gently fucks my face, taking what I know he wants.
“Holy shit, Piper.” My name sounds like a prayer on his lips. I answer by taking him deeper, by choking on him.
He curses again and pulls back, panting.
I wipe my mouth and smile up at him. Before I can stand, Timofey carries me back to the bed and settles between my legs.
He is feverish, ripping my panties away and burying his face between my thighs. I bite down on my hand to keep from crying out.
He laps at my wetness and sucks on my clit. He drives me to a leg-shaking, earthquaking orgasm faster than I would have thought possible.
