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“Glad I could be of assistance.”

She groaned and every bone in her body turned to liquid as he finger fucked her. It had been a while since she’d been touched like this. “Keep doing what you’re doing and I’m going to get a whole lot wetter once I come.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he breathed into her ear, making her shudder. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

He continued to work his fingers in and out of her, occasionally circling and pressing on her clit. Her head dropped back and her mouth parted as she gave in to the temptation of grinding against him.

“Fuck, woman.” His voice had turned thick and more gravelly than normal.

Yes, please.

“Don’t think I can get any harder than I am right now.”

“Is that a challenge?” she somehow managed to push out of her oxygen-deprived lungs.

“The only challenge is to not blow my load with only my fingers inside you.” He kissed across her chest and nuzzled her cleavage. “My hands are busy. Help me out here.”

She was wearing a white ribbed racerback tank, one of many she slept in. Since it was late and had planned on sliding between her sheets once she knew he’d returned safely, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Luckily the tank was a size larger than the ones she wore out in public, so she could easily tuck the neckline under her breasts, giving them a lift and him full access.

Burying his face between her tits, he continued to work his fingers in and out. Her nipples had pebbled so tightly, they ached. For his fingers. For his mouth.

Hell, for both at the same time.

He latched on to one and sucked it so hard, it was close to uncomfortable. But he knew exactly where to draw the line between pleasure and pain.

To Vi, everything he was doing was fucking spectacular. Even better than in her fantasies. And who the hell could pull that off?

Reaper, apparently.

So, yes, if he continued to showcase his skills and she had any regrets after banging her employee, she was pretty damn sure she’d be able to get over them.

As long as he didn’t quit.

And leave her team short-handed.

Fuck.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed that worry out of her head so she could lose herself in the moment. Once she did, she let the orgasm she’d been holding at bay sweep through her.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned against the curve of her breast. “That was intense and it was only my fingers.”

He then pressed his forehead to her chest and took a couple of deep breaths. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but she was too busy riding out the waves.

After they faded away, he slipped his fingers free and held them in front of her face. He sounded gruffer than normal when he announced, “I need to clean these off.”

“Do you really want me to get up and get you a towel? You’re wearing a shirt.” And truth be told, it was a shame that he was. Maybe using it as a towel would be a good excuse for him to take it off. She’d been dying to see what his abs looked like under his snug T-shirts and tanks. Because his shoulders alone were enough to make her drool.

“A good meal shouldn’t go to waste.” With that, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean.

“Luckily, you know where your hands have been,” she teased. But damn, watching him do that had turned the heat up a notch in her core.

“I want to fuck you.”

Direct and to the point. She approved. “Are you asking?”

“I figured I’d be polite about it instead of simply whipping out my dick.”

She chuckled. “Polite sex sounds boring.”