A quick wick burned from the warmth of his mouth to the damp material between my legs that grew wetter and more sensitive each second.
“More,” I begged.
He released a nipple with a graze of teeth and dragged his mouth up my neck. “What do you want?”
Anything.
Everything.
I merely grinded against his erection with a desperate noise.
And then his hand was where I needed it, palming my pussy through the fabric and running a thumb across my clit.
“This?”
My skin caught fire, burning everywhere, from my ears to the tips of my toes.
His thumb slipped under the strap of my thong, tugging it down a little. “Snimi eto dlya menya.”
I didn’t know what he said or if he even meant to say it in Russian, but then he pressed his lips to my ear to translate the command.
“Take it off for me.”
A tremble started in my hands as I pushed my thong down my thighs, adjusting on his lap to slip it all the way off. He released a breath, gaze black as he took in the most private part of me. Desire inflated in my throat when he ran his hands down my thighs, dragging my socks with them.
“The sight of your legs that morning in my office made me hard.”
God, that was hot. I’d had no idea he was sitting behind his desk with a hard-on. He found me attractive from the beginning, and I relished in the knowledge.
I pressed my lips to his, though he only complied for a moment so he could look at my body again. I was completely naked, and he hadn’t even removed his suit jacket. It felt like such a dirty act in a hotel room in broad daylight.
“Do you come on all your first dates?” he asked, eyes narrowed but full of heat on my body.
I’d been honest with him so far—I may as well take it all the way.
“Nobody else has made me come.”
A momentary pause was my only warning before he gripped my hair, and a gasp escaped me when he pulled my head back by my ponytail. I panted, unresisting the ruthless hold that kept my neck angled toward the ceiling.
“Don’t lie to me.”
I fought the aggressive hold with words. “You’re the liar, not me.”
After a second, he loosened the grip on my hair, but as his lips traveled down my neck, I knew he didn’t believe me. His palm pressed against my clit, applying the smallest amount of friction. His hand was rough, and I didn’t need much. I bit my lip to hold in a groan.
Maybe Carter could have made me come if his hands weren’t softer than mine, but on second thought, probably not. I didn’t feel even a fragment of passion with Carter compared to this.
Ronan watched his hand between my legs and roughly said, “I could set a timer and get you off in less than thirty seconds.”
“Do you want a trophy?”
He gripped my chin and pulled my eyes to his. “I want you to tell me the truth.”
By his voice and the tightening of his fingers on my cheeks, he expected me to appease his jaded soul in the next two seconds. He withheld the truth but demanded it from me. How ironic. And annoying. His palm moved at a tortuous grind against my clit, and frustration bubbled within. He was playing with me, and I’d lost my patience.
“Fine. You want the truth?” I snapped. “If you don’t get me off in the next thirty seconds, I’ll find someone else to do it.”
His hand stilled, and after a second that stretched like taffy, a low chuckle escaped him. The leak of darkness that tainted any humor in it raised the hair on my arms. “So sweet, and then all fire . . .” My breath caught at the nip he placed on my jawline, and when his eyes lifted to mine, they were filled with such intensity it stole the warmth from me. I shivered as he dragged a thumb across my lips.
“Count down,” he ordered.
“What?” I breathed.
“Count. Down.”
He slipped two fingers through my wetness and pushed them inside of me. I arched my back, dug my nails into his shoulders, and groaned in pleasure and a little pain. This was rougher than anything I was used to, but it only seemed to spark a fuse inside me.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Count.”
“Thirty . . .” I breathed. “Twenty-nine . . .”
Ecstasy unfurled in my veins like the hit of a drug—a mind-numbing, breathtaking drug—as he slid his thick fingers in and out. He rubbed a spot deep inside of me, hot pressure expanded, and my eyes rolled back.
Ronan smacked my ass, reminding me to count. The unexpected slap stung my flesh, but it also sent a vibration to my clit that stole my ability to do anything else but moan against his neck. Judging by the rumble that vibrated in his chest, he liked my reaction, though the noise ended on a cynical note.
“Use your words.”
I didn’t know any words at the moment, so I shook my head.
The next spank wasn’t as pleasurable. It was a lance of fire that brought a yelp up my throat and a tepid glare to my eyes. I thought he wanted to smile, but he didn’t; he only continued to slowly fuck me with his fingers until the annoyance in my gaze faded to half-lidded lust.
When I managed to say, “Twenty-five,” he soothed the burn on my ass with a palm, liquefying every muscle in my body, and then he swallowed the sigh from my lips. The kiss lacked finesse while I grinded against his hand, panting numbers into his mouth. The impending release curled down my spine, and I wasn’t even at twenty.
He’d never believe me if he got me off in less than ten seconds.
A cold sweat started beneath my skin, and my nails dug into his biceps as I tried to hold off for as long as I could.
He nipped my neck. “Malen’kaya lgunishka.” Little liar.
“Twenty . . .”
I trembled, the flush beneath the surface threatening to erupt. He wasn’t even putting much effort into this, like he knew he didn’t need to in order to win. I was the one riding his fingers. It was against my endgame, but I’d passed the ability to care. I was so wet, there wasn’t any resistance. It was dripping down his hand and my leg.
“You’re making a mess, kotyonok.” The words were bitten between clenched teeth.
“Sorr—” A gasp cut off the rest of my apology when his fingers thrust hard, curling against a spot that made me see stars.
“Fifteen,” he reminded me coarsely.
I shook my head, unable to say anything.
His thumb pressed on my clit, and another finger eased inside. The extra pressure sent me over the cliff. Prickles of flashing heat exploded, my vision dimmed, and my heart pounded to keep up with the scorching blood pumping through me.
His fingers moved slowly, in and out of me, while I caught my breath and the ringing in my ears faded. He didn’t pull his hand away until he wrung the last pulse from me. Languid warmth spread through my body, sating me in a way I’d never experienced before.
Fifteen breathless seconds.
He won, and I didn’t even care.
I kissed up his neck, making a soft noise of appreciation. The man smelled so good, so masculine and unlike Carter’s expensive cologne. The heady scent hit me like a shot of dopamine.
“And now she’s sweet.” His voice was soft but leashed. He angled his neck away from me like he wanted me to stop kissing him. I was too high on the heat of him and post-orgasmic bliss to stop.
I ran my fingers over his erection, relishing the thick, hard feel of him. My hand moved of its own volition to feel every inch while my lips and teeth teased a line down his neck. Soon, he hissed out a breath and gripped my wrist to stop me.