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“No,” I say quickly. “I… I like it.”
A blush burns across my cheeks at the admission, but the look Stavros gives me in return sears away any shame I might have felt about unusual tastes. Like I’m the only person he ever wants to look at for the rest of his life.
A sudden fear squeezes my heart. I touch his face as if I need to steady us both against this question.
“Are you sure you’re okay with—with me being with Alek and Casimir too?”
Alek suggested it to begin with, and I know Casimir has an open mind about romantic partnerships, but Stavros has never struck me as the type to be good at sharing. Does he think my giving myself over to this moment with him means I’m giving myselfjustto him from now on?
Before the fear can dig its claws any deeper, one of the sly grins that used to infuriate me curves the former general’s lips. “I’ll tolerate it. Because just one man couldn’t possibly be enough for our new Signy.”
I like him this way. The cockiness buoyed by the warmth of real assurance, no harsh edge of defensiveness souring his tone.
This is the man thousands of soldiers would gladly have followed into battle, knowing he’d subject them to no risk he didn’t take himself. Knowing their well-being mattered to him as much as brilliant tactics did.
I don’t think any of the men and women who died fulfilling his orders would have blamed him for it.
I tap my fingers against his cheek in the lightest of swats. “It seems to be the only part of the role that actually benefits me.”
Stavros hums and dips his head closer so I’m flooded with his smoky, spicy scent. His voice is more a purr than a growl now. “I like seeing you a little bit selfish. Asking for what you want, taking everything you can have. If that means I have to make sure I keep proving myself worthy of you so you don’t decide two is plenty, I’m not one to shy from a challenge.”
A headier shiver travels down my spine. I run my hands down the impressive planes of his chest and let my mouth meld with his.
With each collision of our lips and caress of his hand against my breast, the throbbing need between my legs deepens. I rock against him, whimpering into our kiss at the feel of his hardness meeting my sex.
I delve one hand down between us and stroke him through his drawers.
“I want this,” I mutter, with a flare of boldness. “Inside me.”
A ragged chuckle escapes Stavros. “Then who am I to deny you, Lady Thief?”
He wrenches at my drawers, hooking his prosthetic over the waist, and I fumble with his at the same time. The second I’ve kicked mine off, I sink down over him, letting his rigid erection graze my folds skin to skin.
I’m so wet with my desire that we slide together perfectly. Stavros groans, but he steadies me in his arms.
“We take this slow. I don’t want you feeling anything but good.”
I give a small huff in acknowledgment, but he’s just as big as I remembered from last night. I pump my fingers up and down over the velvety flesh that’s rigid as steel underneath and line us up to take him into me.
With the first stretch of penetration, both our breaths stutter together. He eases inside gradually but firmly, filling me with a heady pressure until it takes all my self-control not to slam the rest of the way home, knowing I’d probably regret it.
Stavros strokes his prosthetic across my ass and his hand up and down my back, careful of my scars. A rumble sounds from low in his chest.
“That’s right. Take it all. Fuck, Ivy.”
There’s so much need in those last two words that I clench around him with a whimper of my own longing. It already feels so good that I have trouble imagining what it’ll be like when we really start moving.
Sweat has beaded on my forehead. I lean it against Stavros’s shoulder and rock just slightly up and down. Working him deeper inside with every iteration until my next exhalation comes out in a gasp.
“Good?” he checks with a note of concern.
“So fucking good,” I mumble, and start to pick up my pace.
Stavros bucks his hips up to meet me, carefully and then with more force when I moan my approval. Every jolt of sensation inside me sends bliss radiating through the rest of my body.
I cling to him, my fingernails digging into his back, but he makes no complaint. His lips brush against my hair, murmuring praise and encouragement and then simply, “Love you. Love you.”
He bucks into me with those words, sending me soaring toward my release. The rush of it knocks the air from my lungs and a choked sound from my throat.
