“You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that means I’m not leaving this bed.”
“You’re learning.”
“I need food.”
“You need many things.”
Her eyes darken, despite the blush still on her face. “You’re impossible in the morning.”
“I’m worse at night.”
“I know.” The answer is quiet, almost smug.
It goes straight to my cock.
I kiss her before she can smile properly. She melts into it at once, which is becoming a problem. Katerina argues with words and surrenders with her mouth. My hand moves to her hip, then lower, over the curve of her ass, and she makes a low sound that has me hard against her stomach within seconds.
Her body is sensitive from last night.
I can tell by the way she gasps when my fingers slide between her thighs. She’s swollen, wet from me and from herself, and when I touch her, she clutches my wrist but does not pull away.
“You said food,” I remind her.
“I changed my mind.”
“Careless woman.”
“Hungry woman,” she corrects, and pulls me over her.
That’s how the morning disappears.
Slowly at first, because she’s sore and I’m not enough of an animal to ignore it. Then less slowly, because she begs in a way that destroys good intentions. I take my time with her, with her breasts, her mouth, the soft places inside her thighs. I make her come once with my fingers before I enter her, because I like the way she looks after pleasure has already started to ruin her.
When I finally push into her, she wraps herself around me and says my name into my throat.
That’s the part I will remember.
Not the sex, though that’s good enough to ruin a man’s judgment permanently. Not the way she takes me, tight and slick and eager. Not even the way she comes around me, shaking so hard I have to hold her down with my body.
It’s my name in her mouth.
Afterward, she lies on her stomach with one cheek on the pillow, hair everywhere, one leg bent beneath the sheet. She looks thoroughly used and completely unashamed until she feels me looking. Then the blush returns.
I sit on the edge of the bed and check my phone.
A mistake.
Reality returns in a flood.
Elena has sent four messages. Mikhail has sent two. Oleg has confirmed the location again, which means he’s nervous. Nervous men either talk too much or bring backup. I will need to plan for both.
Katerina lifts her head from the pillow. “You’re leaving.”
It’s not a question.