It was clear what he had in mind. “You Finns are all ass men.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “How about you not mentioning other men, particularly my relatives, when I’m seducing you in the shower. Deal?”
“Deal.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I want you more every time, Natasha. How is that possible? You’re addictive.”
“Where do you want me, Senator?”
He reached over her head and grabbed a bottle of lube from the selection of personal care products. “I hate the man, but I approve of his decorating decisions. And I want you sitting on my lap.”
Stephen sat down on the bench seat in the shower and patted his thighs. “Turn around.”
She stared at the fogged up shower door as he massaged the lube between her cheeks and slipped one slick finger inside her. It hit her that no one was submitting or dominating, no one was fighting for control…they were just enjoying each other.
She liked it all. She—
“Oh, Stephen.” He’d added a second finger, scrambling her thoughts. As he pumped them inside her ass, Tasha reached out with both hands for balance, spreading her legs and bending at the waist. “God, that’s…”
“I know.” His voice was low and sinful. He drew his fingers out slowly. “Sit back and straddle my thighs. I can’t wait to feel this luscious ass with nothing between us.”
She lowered herself cautiously, letting Stephen guide her. When she felt the head of his bare cock she shivered, then blew out and pushed down, the fullness making her groan.
“Fuck, Natasha,” he swore. “So hot and tight. Can you take more? Are you ready for more?”
In answer she braced herself again, pushing down with agonizing care until every inch of his erection was inside her and her back was pressed against his chest.
“Can we sit like this for a minute?” she gasped, shaking. “You’re just…I’m still sensitive.”
Stephen slid his arms around her, cupping her heavy breasts with his hands, his muscles flexing and shuddering against her. “As far as I’m concerned, we can sit like this forever. If I die of hard-on, just don’t let them take pictures.”
She struggled to relax around him, breathing deeply, each breath pressing her breasts against his hot palms. Her nipples hardened.
“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing her shoulder. “Have I mentioned how much I love your breasts?”
“Once or twice.”
One hand dropped between her thighs and cupped her sex. “What about this? Have I told you how much I love this?”
“My pussy?” She smiled sassily. “You can say it, you know. You’ve done enough to it in the last few days to have earned the right.”
His fingers tightened, slipping through the arousal there and finding her clit. “My pussy,” he responded wickedly. “You said it belonged to me.”
God yes. “For the moment.”
His other hand left her breast and went to her throat, his thumb forcing her chin toward him. “Mine,” he repeated, lowering his mouth to hers with an urgency she hadn’t expected. A hunger she craved.
As quickly as that, she was lost again, moaning into his mouth and pressing his hand harder against her sex. Needing him inside her. Needing him everywhere.
He broke the kiss and took a shaky breath. “I can handle this pussy, Natasha. I want you to play with your breasts for me.”
She lifted her breasts, pinching her nipples, and he groaned. “Yeah, baby. Oh, angel, you know you can take more than that.”
One finger slid into her sex, the fit tighter because of the erection filling her ass. “Stephen.”
“Fuck. Touch yourself for me, angel. I might have been wrong about how long I could last like this.”
He brought both hands to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, sending heat through her body. “Don’t wait.”
With a guttural sound he started to move her, dragging her up and down his shaft. She cried out, moving one hand from her aching breast to rub her clit, knowing he was as close as she was. Wanting them to come together.
Their shouts mingled in the steamy air. She could feel the waves of their shared orgasm crashing between them, drowning them in the pleasure they could only find together.
Mine.
After they’d recovered enough to wash each other and climb into bed in a tangled heap, she couldn’t stop her concern from creeping back in.
Mine…for the moment.
***
Tasha liked to think she understood Phil Burke. So far he’d reacted exactly the way she’d imagined he would—to her, to Stephen’s interactions with her, to their disagreement at dinner.
But she was surprised when he asked her to join him in his office.
Stephen had told her to occupy herself with Wendi and Brady, and even with Ken, so that he could be available if Burke wanted to talk to him privately and perhaps request a favor in exchange for his silence about Natasha.
She wasn’t sure what room he was in, but it wasn’t this one. She glanced around with false curiosity, having seen the study when Ken and Brady were having their impromptu spy-versus-spy make out session.