Her breasts pressed against his, his other hand splayed big and hard over her bare butt. “Theos, you’re made for this, your body... I’ve never seen anything sexier.”
Jasmine shuddered violently, pleasure shooting across and over her, like molten metal flowing into all the places she had hidden even from herself. Her body had been nothing but an instrument for survival until now, something she had detested, something she had centered her shame on.
Dmitri’s words and caresses made her love it as much as he seemed to, freed her from her own shackles.
He pushed her against the wall, his suit-clad thigh jammed between hers, rubbing against her heated core. Pulling her hands above her head, he held them there.
The fiercely possessive heat in his eyes sent her insides swooping as if she was on a downward fall.
He trailed those sexy lips over her cheek, her jaw, licked the rim of her ear and then traced it down to the pulse at her neck. Throwing her head back, she gave in to it. This was what she wanted—Dmitri in all his bad-boy glory.
When his mouth closed over her pulse, Jasmine shuddered, hard. She had been terrified that he would be gentle with her, that he would be that fake, sophisticated version of him. But he was not, and her heart soared at that.
He was in this moment as fully as she had been, as real as he had been to her all those years ago.
Her stomach curled in delicious spasms as he dragged his mouth down, over the valley between her breasts. While one hand still arrested her hands from touching him, he palmed her breast with the other. Lifted the firm weight to his mouth and flicked the tight bud with his wicked tongue. Jasmine arched into him in mindless need.
Sensations sparked all over her, leaving little shivers in their wake.
Holding her hard against the wall with one shoulder while his white-hot gaze consumed her, he took the hard nipple into his mouth and sucked.
She came off the wall like an arrow, pleasure shooting down between her thighs. Her body felt like one pulsing mass of pleasure as he continued the torment with his tongue and, oh, dear, his teeth.
At some point, Jasmine stopped fighting and began sobbing and moaning and begging. His name became her mantra as he continued his relentless assault.
She had thought she knew what lust meant, what incited it. Thought it dirty. Despised how willingly one took on such intimacy for a few moments of pleasure, had thought the whole world crazy...
But the intimacy of their heated looks, the shared breaths, the fact his desire for her finally revealed the real Dmitri to her was just as arousing as the pleasure he was drenching her in.
There was not an inch of skin he didn’t kiss or taste or suck. An intolerable, insistent ache built in her lower belly.
She sank her hands into his hair as he kissed his way down her abdomen, his willing slave. He was still in the snowy white dress shirt and trousers while she was naked and that, too, felt erotic, that, too, was intended to remind her that he was bending her very body, her will to his.
But she didn’t care. All she wanted was to go wherever he took her, revel in whatever he gave her. To be possessed by him in every way that mattered.
And then he was kneeling in front of her, his face pressed to the flimsy triangle of fabric that covered her sex. “Theos, I can’t wait to taste you, Jas.”
She was flushing and panting, and moaning...as he rolled down the thong and lifted her leg.
Jasmine became boneless as he threw one leg over his shoulder, his harsh breath fluttering over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Thought she would melt into a puddle on the floor if he didn’t hold her up with an arm against her soft belly.
“Oh...” The word floated out of her mouth.
When the first flick of his tongue came over her wet folds, it was as if someone had plunged a knife from her spine to her belly, so sharp and acute was the sensation.
Then he did it again, dipping that wicked tongue into her wet warmth with such expertise that she wanted to die from the onslaught of pleasure.
She shifted and snarled against the wall as he continued licking her, the pressure relentlessly sending her up and up.
“Please, Dmitri...” she pleaded, unable to bear it anymore.
“Look down at me,” he commanded in a raw whisper.
Her hands in his hair, Jas looked down. Kneeling in front of her, his mouth tucked against the most intimate part of her, he looked like some pagan god come to wreak havoc, and she his feast.
As she watched, caught in the languorous heat in his eyes, his mouth closed over the swollen, excruciatingly swollen bundle of nerves and pulled ever so gently.