His cock sprang heavy and hard into my hand.
My breath caught. I had felt him inside me. I had felt the stretch and pressure and impossible fullness. But holding him like this in morning light, with his body rigid and his eyes fixed on mine, made power move differently through me.
He wasn’t untouchable.
He was in my hand because I had reached for him.
A bead of pre-cum shone at the tip. I brushed my thumb over it.
Vadim’s hand shot out and caught the edge of the dresser beside him.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
His gaze sharpened. “Careful.”
“No.”
The word surprised us both.
Then I sank to my knees.
Vadim’s whole body locked.
The carpet was soft under my shins. The robe pooled around me in blue silk. I looked up the length of him and saw the strain cut across his face.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I know.”
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and leaned in.
The first taste of him hit my tongue salty and warm. He made a low sound and braced harder against the dresser. His other hand hovered near my hair, shaking with the effort not to grab.
I took the head of him into my mouth.
His breath broke.
The sound went straight between my thighs.
I licked him slowly because I wanted to learn what made that controlled face fracture. I wanted to know how much of Vadim Sorin could be undone by my mouth. I wanted something in this room to be mine to give, mine to take, mine to decide.
I took him deeper.
“Nadia.” His voice was rough now. Almost unrecognizable. “Christ.”
I hummed around him.
His hips jerked once before he stopped himself.
That restraint, that brutal effort not to take more than I offered, made me wet enough to feel it slide hot between my thighs.
I pulled back and looked up. “You can touch my hair.”
His hand slid into it at once.
Not forcing. Holding.
My scalp prickled. My nipples tightened harder under the open robe.
