She screamed his name as she shattered into a million shards, her hips bucking against his mouth, her lower belly still spasming violently. He kept on and on until every last drop of pleasure was wrenched from her body.
When her knees buckled, he caught her and lifted her into his arms.
He carried her to the bed, his gaze drinking in her face. She fell in an inelegant heap, her heart still not back to normal after the earth-shattering climax.
Only the moonlight from the veranda illuminated the room, music and voices floating up from the party. Even that intrusion was too much for Jas. She didn’t want to share Dmitri for a second.
His gaze stayed on her with the same intense hunger, as if all he wanted to do was to drink in her nakedness. Skin tingling at his perusal, she watched him as he shed his shirt, his trousers and the black boxers. Then he was gloriously naked, all hard angles and masculine power.
His tight shoulders appeared first, and then that muscular chest of his, velvet skin delineated over ropes of muscles, a washboard stomach and then...
“Oh, wow,” she whispered at the sight of his turgid shaft.
Color slashed those cheekbones but he didn’t smile.
Stretching her arm, which took every ounce of strength she had, she ran a finger from the base all the way to the soft head. So many men had made passes at her, from such an early age, and she had hated them and herself...had tuned out any and all curiosity and interest in men as a rule, first because of her mum and then because of what she had been doing...
“I finally get why so many women go gaga over you,” she said huskily, still in a haze from the orgasm. But she didn’t want to hide or feel ashamed at what should be natural, didn’t want to punish herself for mistakes she hadn’t made. “Just looking at you fills me with all kinds of ideas.”
“One forbidden indulgence at a time, glykia mou.” He stepped closer to the bed, and pulled her to him. “And who knows, by tomorrow morning, we might be done with each other.”
She was slowly learning him now. When he felt something deeply, which was more often than not despite his facade, that was when he used those cruel words, to better hide behind them. Or to bury what he felt. Or to lash out.
Would he run if he knew how much of herself she was giving in this moment? How much she wanted her body to please him, how much she wanted to leave a mark on him?
How many of her own shackles he was releasing her from?
She slid closer to him on the soft sheets, came up on her knees and bent. Her hair cascaded around her, giving her a second to overcome the heat tightening her cheeks.
Because more than anything, she wanted to please him.
She brought the rigid shaft to her mouth and licked the length of him. Velvet tightness over steel in her hand, his taste exploded on her tongue.
His breath hissed out of him, his hands sinking into her hair. She did it again and for a few seconds, his fingers fisted in her hair, dug into her scalp and held her there.
That raw glimpse into his need sent power spiraling through her, as if she had been jolted with a burst of it. Wrapping her tingling mouth around the broad head, she closed her mouth around it and sucked on him.
His curse reverberated around the silent room, only fractured by his harsh breaths.
Like an earthquake’s aftershock, a tremor went through her lower belly at the taste of him, at the raw-edged need in his guttural groan. Addicted to her own pleasure, she looked up at him and did it again.
When she fisted her hand around that hard length, he pushed her back against the bed, none too gently.
He climbed onto the bed and over her, like a conquering warrior looking at his spoils. Lying on his side, he pulled her trembling body closer to him, one muscular thigh locking her against the bed when she tried to wriggle out of his hold. “Enough playing, thee mou. I want to be inside you now.”
His hands moved down her belly and into her folds, as if he didn’t listen to his own rules.
Intrusive and intimate, his fingers parted her. She twisted the sheets and moaned. But was determined to say her bit. “I want to return the pleasure you gave me,” she whispered, desperate to keep the tension out of her voice.
Because now that the flush of her pleasure was fading, anxiety at what was to come ate through her. She wasn’t worried about pain; it was a fact of life. But his words still rattled around at the back of her brain.
High maintenance... She would die if he didn’t find pleasure with her...
His kiss came like a cinder again, firing off every nerve, just when she thought she would never recover again.