‘Yes?’
‘Can we go back to dipping our toes in? Because that felt really nice.’
His smile was beautiful. Glorious, even. ‘Absolutely.’ He returned his focus to her buttons, freeing them one by one until her top lay loosely open, but still covering everything important. He drew a breath and held it before brushing her top aside, then went still. ‘You are more beautiful than I imagined.’ He glanced up. ‘And I imagined, Mercy. A lot.’
She could barely breathe. ‘I imagined, too. Don’t make me imagine anymore.’
He kissed her mouth softly. ‘All right. Remember, if you want—’
She glared up at him. ‘Yep. Heard you the first time. I think I got it, Rafe.’
He chuckled then and slid down to kiss the hollow of her throat, the valley between her breasts.
She sucked in a breath, holding it. Waiting. And then his lips brushed her nipple and her lungs emptied on a quiet moan.
‘Good?’ he murmured, giving her a tiny lick.
‘Yes. Oh God. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.’
She could feel him smile against her nipple. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Then he took her into his mouth and she arched, closing her eyes and letting go. Letting herself feel. Hearing herself whimper as he lightly rubbed her other nipple as he sucked and licked.
By the time he’d changed sides, her hips were moving of their own volition and he paused, lifting his head. ‘Mercy. Look at me.’
She forced her eyes to open and nearly whimpered again. His eyes were dark and hot and his lips were wet. Color rode high on his cheeks and his pupils were huge. ‘Do you want more?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’
His hand slid down her stomach, over her pajama pants, cupping her between her legs. ‘Here?’
She arched again, getting some of the friction she needed, but not nearly enough. ‘Yes.’
His fingers curved, putting just the right amount of pressure on her clitoris, and she bucked up into his grip. ‘You like that?’ he asked slyly, his expression almost feral.
‘You know I do.’
‘I like to hear it.’
She clenched her teeth, wanting more, but afraid to ask for it. ‘Yes. I like it. A lot.’
‘Breathe, Mercy,’ he teased, dropping kisses on both her breasts before kissing her mouth. ‘Or you’ll pass out and I’ll have to give you mouth to mouth.’
She laughed breathlessly. ‘Shut up.’
‘Well, that’s just mean.’ He kissed her again, smiling against her lips. ‘How much more do you want to dip in the water? Another toe or your whole foot?’
She laughed again, struck by the ease, the naturalness of all of this. Of him. ‘Touch me. Please. Still no cannonball.’
He grinned and slid his hand beneath the waistband of her pj’s, then toyed with the waistband of her underwear. ‘Touch you like this?’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Do you want to ever get to cannonball?’
He pursed his lips, trying to quell his smile. ‘Yes, ma’am, I do. Whenever you’re ready. For now, though . . .’ He sobered, all serious now. ‘You’re so pretty. I can’t wait to see you. All of you.’ He moved his fingers down and then he was touching her and it felt so damn good. ‘Like that?’
Her head rolled back, pressing into the pillow. ‘Yes. More. Please.’
Without a word he obeyed, sliding lower, and then into her, and she moaned.
‘Looks like we both get a little wet today,’ he said, his words hoarse and rough and playful all at once.
Then he set a rhythm that had her arching into his touch over and over again, her body tensing until pleasure burst, consuming her. She cried out, loud and mindless and he kissed her, stroking her as she rode out the orgasm.
Finally, she collapsed onto the mattress, panting. When she could open her eyes, she found him staring down at her, satisfaction stamped on his handsome face.
‘I think I was loud,’ she said. ‘I should be embarrassed, but I’m really not.’
He smirked at that. ‘I think you were perfect.’
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘You’re still . . .’
‘Hard as a damn rock? Yes, I am. But that was for you, Mercy. You don’t owe me anything.’
‘I know I don’t. But I want to.’ She pressed trembling hands to his shoulders and gave him a little shove. ‘On your back, Detective. We’re not done yet.’
He tumbled backward, pulling his hand free from her clothing and making her wish that she’d been just a little braver. But they had time.
She’d thought she was done, her arousal banked, until he lifted his fingers to his mouth and, holding her gaze, licked them clean. ‘Oh,’ she whispered, fiery tingles racing all over her skin. ‘You’re bad.’
He waggled his brows. ‘Positively wicked. I deserve to be punished. Do your worst.’
She tugged at his T-shirt. ‘Take this off.’
He didn’t have to be asked twice, and the shirt was gone before she could even blink. She ran her hand over all that pretty, tanned skin, pausing at the puckered scar on his upper arm. That had been one of the bullets he’d taken for her that night in February. She kissed it now, tenderly, nuzzling her cheek against the soft blond hair on his chest when he sucked in a breath.
‘Mercy,’ he whispered.
‘Mmm,’ she hummed. She kissed across his chest, licking his nipples as he’d done to hers, then dipped her hand into the sweats he’d slept in, remembering how he’d made a point of the fact that he owned no sleep pants because he usually slept in the buff.
Suddenly she wished he hadn’t worn the sweats and tugged at them. ‘Take these off, too.’
His eyes blazed and he choked back a low moan. ‘You’re killing me here.’
Her heart was beating too hard to even try to think of a cute reply. ‘Do it, Sokolov.’
He grinned and lifted his hips, shucking the sweats down to his knees. ‘You can pull them the rest of the way.’
But she didn’t. She hovered, taking in the sight of him. All of him. ‘You are . . .’ Beautiful. He was beautifully made. Like art. Which sounded dumb in her head. Knowing she was blushing, she gripped him, reveling in the groan that rattled in his chest.
‘I’m what?’ he managed. ‘Tell me.’
It occurred to her that he might need the words too, and she wondered why that seemed so surprising. He had to know that he was built like a Greek god, but she’d loved it when he’d praised her body. She’d never thought to return the favor with any of those she’d been with before.