"Fair." He pulled the henley over his head in one smooth motion. "There. Happy?"
Shit, I was very happy. God, his body was ridiculous—all muscle and scars and raw masculinity. I’d forgotten how much seeing his chest had pleased me.
"Better," I managed.
"Your turn to give me something." He settled between my thighs again. "Touch yourself."
I froze. "What?"
"I want to watch you touch yourself." His eyes were locked on mine. "Show me how you like it."
"I don't—I mean … Olek, listen?—"
"You do. Everyone does." He kissed my inner thigh. "Don't be shy, Katrina. Show me."
This was beyond the contract. Beyond anything I'd imagined. But the way he looked at me, like I was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen—Slowly, I slid my hand down my stomach.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Keep going."
I touched myself tentatively, my fingers finding my clit. Pleasure shot through me, encouraging me to continue playing his game.
"Good girl." His voice was rough. "Don't stop."
I circled my clit, watching his face as I did. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on where my hand moved.
"Faster," he said. "I want to see you get close."
I obeyed, my fingers moving in the rhythm I knew would get me there. But it wasn't enough. It never was when I did it myself. I needed?—
"Please," I whispered.
"Please what?"
"Touch me. I need—I need you to?—"
"Since you asked so nicely." He replaced my hand with his mouth, and I nearly came off the bed.
His tongue was everywhere at once—circling my clit, dipping inside me, licking and sucking until I was gasping his name. He slid two fingers inside, curling them just right, and I grabbed his hair.
"That's it," he murmured against me. "Pull my hair. Show me what you need."
I did, guiding him exactly where I wanted, and he followed my lead perfectly. Like he was learning my body, memorizing what made me gasp and moan and shake. Fuck–no. I hissed, but my desires demanded to be sated.
"Olek, I'm going to?—"
"Come for me." He sucked my clit hard. "Come all over my tongue."
I shattered, crying out his name, my whole body trembling with the force of it. He worked me through it, gentler now, until I was boneless and trembling.
"Three," he said, kissing up my body. "We're getting better at this."
"You're keeping count?"
"I'm keeping track." He captured my mouth in a kiss, and I tasted myself on him again. "Want to see how many I can wring out of you before you pass out."
"That's not—oh?—"
His fingers were inside me again, moving slowly, teasingly.
