He pointed between him and me. “Also—duh.”
I shook my head with a whimsical, taunting sigh. “It’s not duh, Zoltán. You might just not be as charming as you think. It’s definitely not your words that seduce all the women— just your looks, and they aren’t everything.”
His eyes flashed, and he said robotically, the words merging as if he’d learned the phrase. “Give me my language.”
“You speak in Hungarian, and I’ll ride your bike home alone.”
“Ride me.”
Lord, give me strength.I closed my eyes, biting down hard on my lip, unsure if I would whimper or laugh.
His voice so close made me jolt, his fingers sinking into my thighs to still me. “You ride me… You cry pretty. Loud. Legs shake.”
Fuck.
My breath stuttered as the air turned thick between us.
His nose skimmed my throat as his hands gripped my thighs and spread them open before sliding to my underwear.
He breathed against the shell of my ear, and my eyes rolled back as he traced the edge of my panties, casting shivers down my spine.
“No, behave,” he muttered, and my chest heaved. His fingers pushed aside the lace and skidded over my folds, his deep moan shaking me to my core. “Wet.”
I shuffled closer to him, and his fingers picked up, ghosting closer and closer to my clit with each stroke.
“Zoltán,” I gasped.
He kissed under my ear, my jaw, down my throat to my collarbone. So controlled and calm.
Whereas I was bucking against his hand, trying to angle myself for him to brush against where I pulsed.
“You want me,” he said, the smile in his voice stronger than his accent.
I nodded, head thrown back onto his arm.
He tsked. “Say.”
“I want…” But he brushed his thumb against my clit, and words were gone.
“Say. Hungarian.”
I tried to recall the phrase through my swallowedbreaths, my pants, my flickering eyelids, but all that mattered was his touch, the teasing, the torment. “Ak—akarlak.”
His eyes locked on mine. “My name.”
“Zoltán—”
He thrust two fingers into me with no warning. My back arched, my throat made the most guttural, raspy noise I was almost embarrassed. Maybe I would be in the morning,but right now—right now, fuck.
“Zolt,” I cried, admiring his beautiful grin through my faded vision, my eyes had been closed so tightly.
He watched his fingers work me into a fast frenzy, and when I tightened around him, his hooded eyes landed on mine. He went to speak, but stopped himself, nostrils flaring before somehow fingering me harder and quicker.
“Give me my language. You come. Give.”
Somehow, I managed to pant, “No.”
An angry, harsh breath sounded in my ear as he leaned over my trembling body. “You no stop Hungarian. You want.”
