She tilted his head, giving herself an unobstructed path to his lips; she traced her tongue along the edge of his mouth. “I want my hand around you. Let me?”

Yes! He still couldn’t risk skin-to-skin, so he would wear a condom. Where were the condoms? No time to search. He’d have to let her go, and he couldn’t let her go. “Keep your hand outside my underwear.”

“I will...if you’ll kiss me harder.”

“Always bargain like this.” He slammed his mouth against hers, drawing a moan from her, and she unzipped his pants. “Never stop.”

He hissed as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Up...down...she stroked him while continuing to move on his fingers. Yes, oh yes. This! This made him lose his ever-loving mind. The friction sparked new wildfires, until everything but arousal had burned off him. He pushed his tiptoes into the floor to raise his thighs and force her to lean against his chest to maintain balance.

He thrust his fingers deep, deep, deeper inside her.

“Yes! So close,” she rasped, her hips arching to chase his circling thumb.

He pressed against her bundle of nerves, and she shouted her pleasure to the ceiling, coming, coming so hard, her inner walls clenching on him, as if to ensure he stayed right where he was. She bucked against his fingers, once, twice, three times, her nails cutting into his shoulders.

When her forehead rested on his shoulder, she gasped out, “Needed that. Thank you.” Panting, she squeezed the base of his shaft. “Now let’s take care of you.”

He trembled as he arched a brow. “Sweet, Rina. What makes you think I’m done with you?”

* * *

Katarina buzzed with satisfaction and anticipation. Baden’s fingers were still inside her, still revving her engine despite her climax. She was hot, and she was achy—one taste had only made her hungrier for this dark and dangerous man.

She gave the base of his erection another squeeze. He was so big, thick and long, and harder than a police baton. “Am I hurting you?”

“Hurts good.”

Desensitizing him already? Or was the condition mental—a manifestation of his detachment from the world?

Figure it out later. Enjoy! With a moan, she arched her back, presenting him with her cleavage.

“Does my krásavica want her nipples sucked?”

His glamour girl? He kept claiming her...

“I do,” she said. His eyes were almost completely black, his pupils overshadowing his irises. Fine lines bracketed his mouth. How intense was his need to come? “Very badly.”

With his free hand, he jerked at the center clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. Cool air kissed her skin, propelling her need ever higher.

He licked his lips, as if he could already taste her. “Your little nipples are desperate for me, aren’t they?”

“Desperate...aching.” She gripped the top of the chair with one hand, still holding on to his shaft with the other—never going to let go. She slanted forward, placing one of her nipples at his mouth. An offering.

An offering he accepted. His tongue emerged, taunting the needy bud. First hard and fast, then slow and easy. The ache between her legs only worsened. Or got better. She soaked his glove and even her panties. How naughty that was. He was fully dressed while she wore a thin scrap of cloth he’d easily moved aside.

He suckled on her, incredible, world-shaking pleasure consuming her. Soon, remaining still was no longer an option. She began to ride his fingers all over again, arching forward, back, forward again.

As he switched his attention to her other nipple, he rasped, “You are made of ambrosia, surely.”

Always so complimentary. She might never get enough of him.

She pumped her hand up and down his shaft, his breathing becoming shallow. The faster she moved, the more curses that left him. Soon, a fine sheen of perspiration glossed his skin. He was close.

She ran his earlobe between her teeth. “Maybe one day, if you behave, I’ll take your cock in my mouth and suck you dry. Would you like that?”

He grunted a response, his thumb returning to work her feverishly. Pleasure fogged her mind, such intense pleasure; she reached a point of no return for the second time. The house could have crumbled. An army could have marched inside. The world could have ended, and she wouldn’t have cared. Only satisfaction mattered. Hers...and surprisingly enough, his.

Need more.

“Take your fingers out of me,” she commanded. For once, she would be the one issuing orders.

Not that he heeded her. He only surged those fingers deeper.

She almost couldn’t bring herself to utter her next words. “I want to feel you come against me.”