I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her jaw, her throat. She tilts her head back, giving me access, and the trust in that gesture makes my chest tight.
"Leon," she gasps when I bite down gently on the curve where her neck meets her shoulder.
"I've got you," I murmur against her skin. "I've got you,moya krasotka."
My beautiful.
The endearment slips out in Russian before I can stop it, but she doesn't question it. Just arches into my touch when my hand slides higher under the shirt.
I need to see her. Need to see all of her.
I sit back on my heels and reach for the hem of the t-shirt. She watches me, chest rising and falling rapidly, but doesn't stop me when I start pulling it up.
"Arms up," I command softly.
She obeys, and I peel the shirt off, leaving her in nothing but that scrap of lace she calls underwear.
Fuck.
She's perfect. Small breasts, rosy nipples already peaked. The curve of her waist, the flare of her hips into those thick thighs I’ve been dying to get my hands on. Her skin is going to look so good marked by my hands, my mouth, my teeth.
"Don't," I say when I see her start to cover herself. "Don't hide from me."
Her arms drop to her sides, and I watch the blush spread down her chest.
"Beautiful," I say, and mean it. "You're so fucking beautiful, Florrie."
"Leon—" Whatever she was going to say cuts off in a gasp when I lean down and suck one nipple into my mouth.
I work her with my tongue, my teeth, while my hand comes up to palm her other breast. She writhes beneath me, making these small desperate sounds that go straight to my cock.
I'm so hard it hurts. Have been since I sat against the headboard with her in my lap. But this isn't about me. Not yet.
This is about showing her what she does to me. About worshipping every inch of her until she understands that she's mine.
I switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention, and her hands come up to tangle in my hair. Not pulling me away, but holding me there.
"Please," she whimpers.
"Please what?" I kiss my way down her stomach, feeling her muscles quiver. "Tell me what you want."
"I don't—" She breaks off, breathing hard. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do." I hook my fingers in the waistband of her underwear. "You want me to make you feel good. Want me to show you what it's like to be mine."
"Yes." The word is barely audible.
"Then lift your hips for me."
She does, and I slide the lace thong down her legs, tossing it aside.
Now she's completely bare beneath me, and the sight makes my mouth water.
Perfect. She's absolutely perfect.
I settle between her thighs, pushing them wider, and watch her face as realization dawns about what I'm about to do.
"Leon—"
