I bury my face in his shoulder, muffling the embarrassing sounds escaping my mouth as he fucks me with his fingers—slow at first, savoring every pulse and clench of my body, then faster as I fall apart in his arms.
"Look at me," he demands in a low growl, dragging his free hand up to cup my jaw."I want to see you when you come."
I try—God, I try—but the pleasure is so intense, so raw, I can barely keep my eyes open.
He strokes deep and firm, thumb finding my clit again, ruthless and devastating.
The climax slams into me like a wave breaking against rocks—violent, all-consuming, shattering.
I cry out, biting down on my lower lip to muffle the sound, and he catches it with his own mouth, swallowing my moan in a kiss that’s pure, molten possession.
I explode against him, hips jerking, thighs trembling.
He works me through it, slowing his movements only when I shudder against his hand, too sensitive to bear another stroke.
"Good girl," he murmurs against my temple, withdrawing his fingers carefully, reverently, like he's reluctant to let go.
I sag against him, boneless, breathless, still quivering with aftershocks.
He presses a kiss to my forehead, to my temple, to the hinge of my jaw—soft now, almost tender—as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
For a long moment, he just holds me.
No words.No rush.
Just the wild thud of my heart against his chest and the quiet, stunned aftermath of what just happened.
When I finally lift my head, he’s watching me with something almost savage in his eyes—something possessive and raw and fiercely, achingly restrained.
I reach for his belt, needing—needing—to give him even a fraction of what he just gave me.
But he catches my wrist gently, bringing my knuckles to his lips instead.
"Not tonight," he says, voice rough with need."If I stay, I won’t stop."
"I don't want you to," I whisper.
He closes his eyes for a beat, like he's physically restraining himself.
Then, with excruciating care, he steps back—separating us, breaking the magnetic pull that still crackles between our bodies.
"You need sleep," he says quietly."And I need to remember I'm not the kind of man who takes advantage when a woman’s vulnerable."
"I'm not vulnerable," I argue, dazed and wrecked and still throbbing for him.
He smiles, bittersweet."You are.And so am I."
He brushes a final kiss—soft, almost chaste—against my forehead.
I exhale.“That's very noble and extremely frustrating."
He laughs, pressing one more kiss to my forehead."I've been called worse."
At the door, he pauses."Karina?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for telling me.About your father."His voice softens."I don't usually...talk about mine."
