The sight of her naked in my space does things to me that aren't rational.
I back her against the tile wall under the spray. Not rough like last night. Slower. Methodical.
"I'm going to learn your body." My hands map every curve, every dip, cataloging what makes her breath hitch. "Every spot that makes you gasp. Every way to take you apart."
"Lev—"
I drop to my knees and hook her leg over my shoulder before she can finish the thought.
Put my mouth on her.
She cries out, hands flying to my hair, gripping hard enough to hurt.
I take my time. Learning what makes her hips jerk forward. What makes her thighs tremble. The exact pressure and rhythm that make her voice go high and desperate.
She tastes like arousal and mine, and I could stay here memorizing her responses indefinitely.
When she's close—thighs shaking, fingers pulling my hair, breath coming in pants—I stand and lift her in one motion.
Pin her against the wall.
"When you come this time, it's with me inside you." I line myself up, no barrier between us this time. "Understand?"
She nods frantically, too far gone for words.
I thrust inside her.
And fuck me, but she’s so tight and wet and perfect, and the feel of nothing between us—just her wrapped around me, no barriers, completely claimed—rewires something in my brain.
I fuck her slowly. Deliberately. Watching her face as I work her higher, learning every expression, every gasp.
"Ty moya," I murmur against her neck.You're mine."Ne tol'ko zdes'. Vo vsyom."Not just here. In everything.
"Yes—" Her nails dig into my shoulders. "God, yes—"
"Say it properly." I slow down, making her work for it. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours!" It comes out strangled. Desperate. "Lev, please, I'm yours—"
I increase the pace, angle to hit that spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back. "Then come for me. Show me who you belong to."
She shatters around me. Whole body going rigid, clenching so tight I nearly lose control. Her nails break skin on my shoulders, and she screams my name like it's the only word she knows.
I follow her over. Bury myself as deep as possible and come harder than I have in years, marking her in the most primitive way possible.
Mine. Completely mine.
Afterward, I clean us both with efficient hands. Wash her hair, run soap over her body, take care of what's mine.
She lets me. Stands still while I handle her, doesn't flinch when my hands linger on her throat or the marks I left on her thighs.
I wrap her in a towel and find clothes—another one of my shirts because seeing her in my things satisfies something primitive, and jeans from her room that I had retrieved.
She dresses while I watch, every movement memorized.
"Stay in my wing today." I button my own shirt, eyes still tracking her. "Don't leave without telling me first."
"Lev, I have responsibilities—"