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“Oh, you do.” I graze her earlobe with my teeth, feeling her tremble. “And you know you do. You haven’t stopped thinking about that night, have you? Hmm?”

Her breath hitches sharply.

“Every time you touch yourself,” I continue, voice rough, “you think about how I made you come with my tongue…with my fingers… how you screamed for me when I buried myself so deep inside you.”

A soft, involuntary sound escapes her throat. From the corner of my eye, I see her clamp her lips together, desperately trying to hold it back.

I nibble her earlobe again, slower this time, savoring the way her body reacts even as her mind fights it.

“That’s what I thought,” I murmur against her skin. “You still feel me, don’t you, plamya?”

I feel her shiver under my touch.

“No,” she whispers, voice shaky. “I don’t.”

“Liar.” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “If I reached down right now, I wouldn’t find you soaked for me?”

My fingers trail slowly down the side of her neck. Without thinking, she tilts her head, giving me more access. I smile against her skin and press my mouth there, kissing, then sucking lightly. A soft sound escapes her before she can stop it.

I keep teasing, small, open-mouthed kisses along her throat. Her breathing grows ragged. Her hands come up to fist my shirt like she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.

I lift my head just enough to look at her. I hold her gaze without blinking as I slide my hand down the front of her dress.

My palm skims over the soft fabric, then slips beneath the hem, riding slowly up her thigh.

When my fingers reach her panties, I push the lace aside. She’s soaked.

The slick heat coating my fingertips makes my cock throb painfully. I drag two fingers through her folds, gathering her wetness, then bring my hand back up between us.

“Look at you,” I murmur, voice low and rough. “Dripping for me already.”

Her cheeks flush darker. I bring my fingers to my mouth and slide them between my lips. Her taste explodes on my tongue, sweet, warm, addictive.

When I finally pull my fingers free, I lean in closer, voice dark and hungry.

“You still taste like mine, plamya.”

Her lips are parted, eyes dark with the same hunger I feel. I can’t wait another second.

I kiss her.

The second our mouths meet, four years of missing her crashes into me all at once. She tastes exactly like I remember.

I groan into the kiss, deepening it, and she melts against me, kissing me back like she’s been starving for this too. Her tongue slides against mine, desperate and needy, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.

I scoop her up into my arms, and carry her upstairs. Her arms wrap around my neck, her face buried against my shoulder as I take the stairs two at a time.

I kick my bedroom door shut behind us and lay her down on the bed. Clothes come off in a frantic rush. Hers, then mine, until there’s nothing between us.

I settle between her thighs, hard and aching, the head of my cock nudging her entrance.

“Condom,” she breathes.

“I’m clean,” I tell her, voice rough. “Haven’t been with anyone since that night four years ago.”

Surprise flickers across her face. “Me neither.”

I smirk. “So no man for me to kill then?”