Page 132 of Mile High Ruin

My stomach tightens at the quiet appreciation in his voice. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Look so pleased.”

His thumb brushes lightly over my clit, and I jerk.

“That is difficult.”

He does it again. My fingers close around the edge of the desk.

“Vadim.”

He kneels. My breath catches. I know exactly what he intends before his mouth reaches me.

The first slow stroke of his tongue over my clit sends a shock through my entire body. I gasp and instinctively try to close my legs, but his shoulders are already between them, his hands holding my thighs apart while he takes his time.

He doesn’t rush this either. He licks me slowly, learning what I like all over again even though he already did this at the hotel, changing pressure whenever my breathing changes and repeating anything that makes my hips move toward him. It feels indecently good.

My hands go into his hair as his tongue circles my clit. I moan, and he makes a satisfied sound against me.

“Stop being smug.”

He responds by sucking my clit into his mouth. My complaint turns into a cry.

One finger slides inside me. Then another. The stretch makes me grip his hair harder. He curls his fingers while his tongue continues moving, and I stop caring about anything except the pressure building deep inside me.

I can hear myself getting louder. At some point I remember that there are other people in the house, but I don’t care enough to stop.

“Vadim, I’m going to⁠—”

He doesn’t let me finish.

His fingers move harder, his mouth sealing around my clit, and the orgasm hits so suddenly that my thighs clamp around his head.

I cry out, my hips lifting off the desk. He holds me there and keeps going until the pleasure becomes so sharp that I tug desperately at his hair.

“Enough.”

Only then does he stop.

He rises slowly. I’m still trying to breathe when he kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. The intimacy of it should embarrass me. Instead, I wrap my legs around his waist.

His cock presses against me through his trousers. He’s painfully hard.

“You still have too many clothes on,” I tell him.

“I agree.”

I reach for his belt. This time he lets me. His trousers drop just far enough for me to free his cock, and the sight of him makes me swallow.

He notices that too. Of course he does.

“Problem?”

“No.”

I wrap my hand around him, and his jaw tightens. He’s thick and hot in my palm, already wet at the tip, and I stroke him slowly just to watch his composure fracture.