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“I’m toying around with it.”
At the next slow pull of my hand, Ivan gently presses his teeth into my shoulder. “Keep toying with it, then.”
His lips find their way to my neck again, but he moves slowly. As if we have all the time in the world to be here. To explore and touch and kiss. And laugh.
That’s the funny thing: all it takes is one look at Ivan to know that he would be great in bed. But the easy banter, the laughter—thatwas unexpected. That, more than anything, makes it hard to keep the yearning in my chest in the box where it belongs.
He growls out a curse and then slides away from my touch. His eyes are near black as he kisses his way down my stomach and lower. He tugs at the elastic of my panties, dragging the lace down my thighs and then shoving them down to the floor along with his own pants.
I watch him with my mouth open. He’s so fucking gorgeous. It still blows my mind that this man chose me.
Then he pounces again and all thoughts go flying out of my head.
When he hooks my legs over his shoulders and lowers his face to my pussy, I almost buck us both off the bed. He feasts on me, licking and sucking until my hands are fisted in the sheets and I’m thrashing. My thighs clamp down around his ears as the sensation becomes too much.
I thread my fingers through his hair and ride him while I come undone again, again, again.
When he finally lifts his head, a wicked smile on his lips, my heart stutters.
I want more.
More than his body. More than mind-blowing sex.
I want all of him. The warrior. The protector. The leader. The charmer.
I want every iteration of Ivan Pushkin, and as much as I try to push that inconvenient truth to the side, it’s impossible to ignore when he’s smiling up at me like this.
“Scream like that every time I touch you and we’ll have everyone fooled.”
“Did I scream?” I didn’t realize it, but I’m not surprised. The orgasm is still ebbing away, aftershocks still shivering through me.
He nods, keeping my legs hooked over his shoulders as he crawls up my body. “Don’t worry if you missed it. You’re about to do it again.”
Before I can answer, he fills me in one thrust.
I claw at his shoulders, trying to bring him closer. To bury my face in his neck so he can’t see what this is doing to me. But with my legs over his shoulders, this is as close as we can get. Close enough that he can see every fleeting emotion as it crosses my face.
I can see the sweat glistening in the hollows of his throat. I watch his jaw flex with each thrust. Worse, I see him study me the same way I’m studying him.
And when Ivan looks, he seeseverything.
“Take this off.” I grab awkwardly at his shirt, pretending I care about it while he’s filling me again and again.
Ivan deftly slides my legs off his shoulders and leans back, tugging his shirt off with one move.
I reach for him, grateful for the position change until I go to loop an arm around his waist and find a large bandage there. It's taped over his ribs and wrapped partially around his back.
“What happened?”
He glances down and then shrugs it off. “Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. That’s a huge—” I lose my voice as he slides into me to the hilt, our bodies slapping together. I press a hand to his chest. “Is that from tonight? Did you get hurt?”
Anya said he was grazed. I imagined it like a road rash. But his bandage is bigger than my entire hand.
“It was a bullet graze. I’m fine.”
I press a palm to his side, and he winces. “That’s not fine, Ivan! He shot you! You saved me, but he shot you.”
