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“That is it.” He kisses the hinge of my jaw. “Let me give you what you want.”
My grip tightens around his cock, and he roughly whimpers.
“You’re close too, huh,” I whisper, dragging my fist slowly up his length before tightening around the head. “So hard while you fuck my hand.”
His hips jerk into my grip. “Yes.”
I squeeze him a little harder, and he shudders, fingers curling inside me in answer.
My head knocks back against the tile. “Oh, fuck, Viktor—do that again.”
He does, and my body clenches around him, pleasure flashing bright at the base of my spine. I stroke him faster, but he angles his thumb over my clit, and suddenly I’m the one falling apart.
“Fuck.” My hand falters around his cock.
“No.” His forehead presses to mine, eyes looking at down at our hands getting each other off. “Keep touching me.”
I manage another stroke, then another, but his fingers move with purpose, curling into me while his thumb works my clit in relentless circles.
“Oh my god, I’m gonn—”
“I know.” His mouth brushes mine, breath hot against my lips. “Come, Heidi. Come all over my fingers while you stroke my cock.”
My body locks and the orgasm tears through me in a shaking wave. I clutch at his shoulder, my thighs clamping around his wrist while my fist tightens helplessly around his cock.
“Fuck,” Viktor groans loud, his fingers still moving fast. “You squeeze me so hard when you come… And your cunt does too.”
I can barely process the words before a broken sound tears out of me, and I pulse around him again.
“Yes.” His lips drag across mine. “I want that sound. Keep fucking my hand while you come.”
I’m shaking too hard to do anything deliberately, but my body must understand because my grip keeps moving over his cock in short, desperate strokes. Viktor watches me through all of it, and when the last tremor eases, I sag against the tiles.
“Holy shit.”
Blue eyes stay fixed on mine as he slowly draws his hand out of me, then lifts it to his mouth. I stop breathing as he sucks his fingers without looking away, his tongue dragging deliberately between each digit before he lowers his hand.
“Viktor—Jesus.”
His mouth curves, and then he leans in, kissing his way down my jaw through the water, trailing his tongue down my neck and over my collarbone to the slope of my breast. My back arches instantly as his mouth closes around a nipple, and my hand flies into his wet hair while the other tightens around his cock again.
He hums against me, tongue moving slow, and teeth grazing just enough to make my knees shake, before tugging off my nipple with a pop. “I want to taste you.”
The words drag out of him roughly, and my thighs clench again.
“Please,” he husks. “Let me taste my wife.”
I almost say something smart. Almost tease him and make him wait to keep some kind of upper hand. But his eyes are on mine and his hands are on my body, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this.
“Okay.”
He drops to the floor, and my lungs empty.
The sight of Viktor Karlsson on his knees in front of me nearly undoes me before his mouth does. He looks up through wet hair, hands sliding up the backs of my legs, and his mouth brushes the inside of my thigh first with a soft kiss. Then another. Slow enough that anticipation crawls over my skin, and my fingers splay against the tile.
I keep my eyes on him when he leans in and flicks his tongue out lightly, barely making contact. And when I swear under my breath at the teasing, he licks his smiling lips.
“Impatient,” he murmurs.
