His fingers slid between my thighs.
I was wet.
He found that immediately, and his eyes lifted to mine with a look so darkly satisfied I wanted to smack him and pull him closer at the same time.
“All this from putting me in your mouth?” he asked.
Heat rushed up my throat. “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself.”
“I’m pleased with you.”
My answer broke when his fingers circled my clit.
The touch was light at first, then firmer when my hips followed it. Pleasure moved through the tender places in my body and turned them bright. Last night had opened me. This morning made me aware of every place he’d been.
Vadim watched my face as he touched me.
“You’re sore,” he said.
“Yes.”
His fingers slowed.
I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t stop.”
His eyes burned. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“I’ll tell you.”
He lowered his mouth to my breast and sucked my nipple between his lips.
My head went back.
The pull of his mouth and the steady motion of his fingers made pleasure build faster than I expected. Maybe because I was already raw. Maybe because I had spent all morning holding back fear, anger, love, and a terrible kind of hope, and this was one thing I could understand.
Vadim slid one finger inside me.
I cried out.
He stopped at once.
“No,” I said quickly, gripping his shoulder. “Not bad. Just—”
“I know.” His voice was thick. “You’re tight. Tender. Still taking me.”
The words should have been too much.
They were exactly enough.
He moved his finger slowly, watching me take the stretch. Then he added the pressure of his thumb over my clit, and my whole body clenched around him.
“Vadim.”
“Yes, my wife.”
The endearment hit the place his hand had built.
I came with a sound I didn’t recognize. My heels dragged against the sheets. My fingers locked on his shoulder and wrist. Pleasure rolled through me in hot, shaking waves, softer thanlast night at first, then sharper when he kept touching me through it.
