I smile against her skin. “There,” I murmur. “That’s how I know.”
Her hand slides into my hair and pulls. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re wet.”
Her whole body stills.
I lift my head and look at her. The ruined red dress is pushed down to her waist. Her tits are bare, flushed from my mouth. The emerald necklace glitters beside her on the table, forgotten.Her thighs are open around my hips, and even through the thin fabric of her underwear, I can feel how soaked she is.
She tries to look offended. She fails.
I slide my hand between her legs and press my fingers over her.
Her eyes flutter.
“You are very wet,” I say.
“Because you keep touching me,” she moans.
I push her underwear aside.
The first direct touch makes her inhale sharply. Her hands grip the edge of the table. I drag two fingers through her wet pussy, slow enough that she feels every inch of it, and circle her clit with my thumb. Her head falls back.
“Look at me,” I say.
She opens her eyes with effort.
I rub her clit again, firmer this time, and watch her face change. She’s embarrassed by how quickly her body answers me. I can see it in the way she bites her lip, the way she tries to hold still, the way her hips betray her and roll into my hand.
I want her shameless for me.
I push one finger inside her. She tightens immediately, breath catching.
I go still.
Her eyes lock on mine. “Keep going,” she whispers.
I move slowly at first, giving her time to take me. Her pussy is tight and hot around my finger, clenching as I work in and out of her. My thumb stays on her clit, circling, teasing, pressing until her thighs begin to shake.
“Yaromir,” she breathes.
“Yes.”
“I need…” She stops, frustrated, as if she doesn’t know the words.
I add a second finger, and her mouth opens on a cry.
I lean forward and kiss it from her, fucking her with my fingers while my tongue pushes into her mouth. She tastes like champagne and heat. Her legs wrap tighter around me, and I feel her start to move with my hand.
I curl my fingers inside her, and her entire body jerks.
“Oh.”
I do it again. Her nails bite into my back.
“That,” I say against her mouth. “You like that.”
“Yes.” The word comes out broken.