“You want to be in charge this time?” he asked, not sounding bothered by the fact. And not merely curious, either. More like intrigued.
“I want to experiment.” Did that sound bad? “You’re not just an experiment for me,” she hastened to add.
“I know that.” He let his thighs fall open, giving her an unhindered view of his rapidly growing erection and heavy balls below it. “I am at your disposal.”
“So polite.” Any mockery she’d meant to infuse her tone with was lost in her delight at his clear willingness to let her explore.
“For you.”
“It’s always just for me, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.” No doubt in his tone or expression.
She was special to him and despite his jaundiced view of relationships, he didn’t hesitate to let her know it.
How was she going to keep any part of her heart from fixating on this man?
Unable to hold back any longer, Romi reached out and ran her finger down the hardening shaft and over the wrinkled skin lightly dusted with hair below. “It’s so soft.”
“This is what you call soft?” he asked teasingly, running his own hand over his engorged member. “It feels pretty hard to me.”
Her breath caught at the sight. “I didn’t mean that.”
“No?” He let his hand fall away and laid both hands to rest on the arms of the chair, opening his body in an even more blatant invitation to her touch.
She shook her head, unable to form a verbal answer.
He was so perfect. So delicious. And so incredibly tempting. A temptation she had no impetus to hold back from giving in to.
Romi reached out to touch him again, this time like he had. She curled her fingers around his steel-hard shaft. She loved the way he filled her hand, how his silky smooth skin felt so hot against the palm of her hand and pads of her fingers.
Running her hand up and down the intimate column of flesh, she elicited a low groan from him.
“I like touching you.”
His grin was feral, triumphant, not amused. “I know, dorogaya.”
She really loved the way he’d shifted to the more intimate endearment when they were making love.
And this was making love every bit as much as when he was buried inside her body. For her anyway.
She didn’t know how he saw it, but she felt that same soul-deep connection.
Romi continued to run her hand up and down his erection until he was moaning steadily, tilting his hips up in silent supplication. She totally understood in that moment how exciting he could find giving pleasure to his lovers.
To her.
Seeing him react to her touch impacted her own desire like a matchstick to a bucket of gasoline.
Drunk on the power in a way wine never impacted her, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his erection. Pearly liquid had formed and smeared on her lips. She flicked her tongue out to taste it. He groaned and swore in Russian.
“I like how you taste.” She licked the remaining pearly liquid from her lips.
“I’m glad.”
She dipped her head and did it again, this time tasting directly from the source. Salty. Sweet. Maxwell. A moment of intimacy she never wanted to know with another man.
Which said a lot about the choice she insisted she hadn’t yet made.
Ignoring that thought, she took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the circumference.
The sound that came out of Max was pure, visceral, primitive need. So, she kept doing just that, laving his bulbous tip with her tongue, bringing forth more sounds of passion and masculine pleasure.
“Move your hand on the shaft and suck.” It was both masculine demand and plea.
Never had Romi heard instructions given in a tone of such raw desire.
No thought of denial entered her head. She gave him exactly what he asked for and discovered she enjoyed doing it. Very much.
No surprise there. She loved everything about touching this man.
Suddenly his hands were in her hair, tugging at her head. “Stop, Romi…please, dorogaya. You must stop.”
She pulled back with reluctance and looked up at him. He shook his head, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “I’m too close to coming.”
“Uh-huh.” That was the point, wasn’t it?
“You aren’t ready for that. You may never want to taste me to that extent.”
“Oh.” She’d liked it so far, but she’d heard that a man’s ejaculate was bitter.
Maybe it was a stronger flavor when he came?
She stopped her musing when he took both lapels of the silk dress shirt she wore in his hands and very deliberately, very slowly, pulled them apart so buttons and fabric gave.
Unbearably turned on, she did not move as he reached out to cup her small breasts, abrading her nipples with his thumbs. “You were made just for me.”