I took him deep, relaxing my throat to take as much as I could. The piercings created an interesting challenge, but god, it was worth it for the way he responded. I worked him hard and fast, then slow and teasing, never letting him get too close to the edge.
"You're killing me," he groaned after I'd edged him for the third time.
"Good," I said, moving back up his body. "I want you desperate for me."
I kissed him deeply, letting him taste himself on my tongue. His hands roamed my back, tugging at my shirt.
"Off," he demanded. "Need to feel you."
I sat up to pull my shirt off, and his hands immediately went to my chest. When his thumb brushed my nipple, I gasped.
"My turn," he said, flipping us suddenly so I was on my back.
But I caught his wrists before he could do more than kiss my chest. "Wait," I said, my heart pounding with more than just arousal. "I want to try something."
He pulled back slightly, studying my face. "What kind of something?"
I took a deep breath. Fuck it. "I want you to do whatever you want to me."
His whole body went still. "What?"
"You heard me," I said, releasing his wrists. "Whatever you want. However you want. I trust you."
"Vince..." His voice was strangled. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I know exactly what I'm asking." I spread my arms wide, completely open and vulnerable beneath him. "I'm asking you to take what you need. I'm giving you permission to use me however you want."
"I could hurt you," he said, but his pupils were blown wide, cock twitching against my hip.
"You won't."
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"Because you're going to choose not to," I said simply. "And that choice—you having all the power and choosing to be careful with me—that's the hottest thing I can imagine."
He stared at me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. The predator receded, replaced by something almost vulnerable. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. "No one's ever... fuck, Vince. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"
"Show me," I challenged.
His hands shook slightly as he reached for me, then stopped. Started again. He resembled someone handed a priceless artifact they feared breaking. The deadly assassin, the man who'd killed forty-eight people without hesitation, paralyzed by the fear of hurting the one person who trusted him completely.
"I don't know how to..." he started, then stopped, frustration etching lines between his brows. "They never taught me to touch without hurting."
"Then figure it out as you go," I said. "I'm not going anywhere." Not tonight, not tomorrow, not unless Prometheus or his men physically tore me away. The realization was startling. When had this man, this killer, become someone I couldn't imagine walking away from?
He leaned down and kissed me, but it was different now. Deeper, more possessive, but also careful in a way that made my chest tight. His hands roamed my body, testing, exploring, like he was mapping boundaries he was setting for himself.
"You don't have to be so careful with me," I said when he pulled back. "We might die tomorrow. I don't want to die without knowing what it feels like to be properly fucked by you.”
“Are you sure you can handle it? It can get pretty intense.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I do Pilates. Rearrange my guts, Luka."
His eyes went wide, a flash of shock breaking through the desire. "Did you just... did you really just say that? Pilates?"
"Core strength is very important," I said with as much dignity as possible while lying naked beneath an assassin. "I can hold a plank for three minutes."
"And that prepares you for..."
