He does so with his own amused smirk, allowing me to feed him the first bite. I gape as he chews, and I rush to drag his plate closer and offer him something else.
“I love pampering you,” I murmur as he opens his mouth for more.
“I will turn you into a domestic yet,” he teases, making my heart skip. “First, I’ll get you addicted to my cock, and then I’ll have you trained to enjoy feeding me. You’ll be far too sprung to leave.”
He sounds so confident. Too confident, making the boast sound more like a promise than anything else.
“Is that so?” I scoot back and grab my own plate, sampling a few roasted veggies, leaving him to feed himself. “I’ll have you know that I don’t think I’d make a very good soccer mom.”
Something in my tone makes him shrug the blankets from his frame and stand. I stare as he stretches his bare limbs and pads into the bathroom. I follow him and wind up leaning against the doorway as he steps into the shower.
Cocking his head, he meets my gaze, his eyes flashing. “What was that you promised me once?” he wonders. “Something about sucking me off to show your gratitude…”
“Devil!” I grin wickedly and finger the buttons of my borrowed shirt. “Only if you ask me nicely.”
His gaze fixates on my mouth, and I shiver as his tongue traces his lower lip. “I would very much enjoy feeling your mouth on me.”
I’m naked within seconds, practically running toward him. The shower spray bastes us with gentle pressure as I follow him to the bench and drop to my knees. Our eyes meet and something unspoken shoots between us, as jolting as electricity.
I take him in without hesitation as he sinks his fingers through my hair, groaning in approval. Eager to push his reaction to the fullest, I grip the base of him, gasping as he thickens, straining against my touch.
The pleasure is so intense my eyes threaten to roll, but… A part of me panics with the increasing realization that watching him watch me is ten times more explosive than any impending orgasm. Our eyes meet again. I lick him. He jumps. I suck. His grip tightens, his eyelids fluttering.
So, I do it again.
And again.
His wall is down, his gaze open, and all I see is a man so beautiful it hurts, looking at me as though I’m a goddess. Desirable. Cherished.
And yet still kept at arm’s length.
Still, it’s beyond anything newly-divorced Tiffy could have imagined just a few days ago.
I close my eyes, overwhelmed, and put all of my focus into pleasuring him, feeding off the throaty groans that broadcast his enjoyment. Deeper. Rasps. Grunts. I worship him, teasing him with as much of my throat as I dare.
And in the end, I relish his release, drinking him down—every last drop.
It’s too good. Panting, I rest my face against his knee, seeking out the comfort of his touch. The sensation of his fingers over my heated flesh feels too damn soothing. A salve I’ve gone my whole life without needing, healing a pain I never realized ached until this moment.
Dangerous thoughts, Tiffy. With difficultly, I pull away.
“I will forever live in regret of denying myself this,” he says. I look up to find him leaning back against the wall of the shower stall, his hair mused, his expression shifting amid another earth-shattering revelation. His fingers graze my cheek reverently, smoothing back my damp hair, and I can’t resist settling against him again. “I love the way you suck my cock.”
I feel myself blush as my tongue chases every remainder of him from my lips. “Careful, Mr. Vadim. That almost sounds like praise.”
He laughs, stroking me absently, his expression utterly content. “Take it as you will, Ms. Connors. I look forward to indulging your other fantasies.”
“Oh?” I perk up, my brain skipping ahead. “Such as?”
He chuckles deeply and cradles my jaw, urging me to meet his gaze again. “I will show you,” he promises. “I will build you your playground as you call it. But in return? You lend me your expertise.”
I raise an eyebrow and rise up to straddle him, inching as close to him as I can. His arms encircle me, forming a cocoon of warmth against the shower spray. “My expertise in what?”
“Children,” he says simply. His mouth settles in the crook of my shoulder, nipping. Sucking. “You help me with Magdalene,” he commands in between teasing nibbles. “Help me make this place a true home for her—” At least he has insight into his current anti-child décor. “Do this for me, and I will ensure that you are sufficiently sprung.”
My toes curl.
“And if I refuse?”
His hand slides boldly between my legs, and I inhale, my thoughts spinning. “You won’t,” he smugly surmises, barely grazing my piercing. “My money may not impress you, but I know what does. You’ve just had your first dose of the day,” he reminds me as my face heats further. “I will keep you well supplied. As long as you help me. Anything else can be discussed at a later date. I just need you to promise me this.”
I stroke his chest, more touched by his confession than I care to admit out loud. When the man engages in his limited pillow talk, my senses combust. But when he’s open? Something in my heart starts to bleed, and I’m worried that it’s not entirely a bad feeling.
“I’ll help you,” I tell him, smoothing my fingers across his rock-hard pec. “I’ll help you with your daughter.”
He captures my chin, tilting it so that our lips meet fiercely. I moan into the kiss, arching against him, frowning when he pulls back.
“What’s wrong?”
“First, I need your help with something else,” he tells me, brushing his lips
