Page 71 of Frequency of Attraction

Quinn hadn’t meant the words as an invitation, but he took them as one. “Let’s see what you’ve done.”

She unlocked the door, wondering why the hell she was letting Vadim inside her house. No good could come of having him there. It wasn’t like her body had ever been settled near his. No, still, after everything, nerves fired and tingled and danced. Yet here they were, with his solid presence and heavenly smell at her back.

Inside, his head turned in all directions as he took in her decorated home. “You’ve been busy.”

“Very.”

Quinn was thrilled with how her home had come together. The art she and Edie had picked out perfectly complemented the space. He wandered, with Quinn close behind.

They’d arrived on the second floor. He checked out the guest room first, the one she’d briefly envisioned for little Mila. Instead of floor-to-ceiling pastels, the room was gray and white. Her bedroom was next to it. He entered there next, no hesitation. “You got new bedding.”

“I did.” She moved to the bed and smoothed a wrinkle in the black bedspread. The cream fabrics from before had clashed with the gray walls.

“We should christen it.”

Quinn snorted. She turned to him. “You’re cr—”

Vadim was palming himself over his jeans, fire in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

“Stop doing that,” she whispered, her heartbeat picking up speed.

“Stop looking and I will.”

Quinn swallowed. “I can’t.”

His deep chuckle incinerated her inside and out. Even over his jeans, his slow hand movements hypnotized her.

“Want me to make you come,kiska, for old times’ sake?”

Of course she did. Quinn hadn’t had an orgasm since the last time they’d been in this same room. No one knew her body like he did. No one could make her crumble like Vadim. She could not say no. Not to him. Even if she’d feel worse when he walked away again.

“I see a ‘yes,’ but I don’t hear it.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, right?

Vadim pushed off from the doorway and prowled toward her. She tasted fear and excitement as he turned her around to face the bed. He skimmed his fingertips across her exposed shoulders, brushing her hair out of the way so he could nip the back of her neck. One huge hand gripped her hip. All the blood in her body pooled in her core.

“Panties off. Bra too. And get rid of the dress. Keep the shoes.”

Quinn obliged, burning with anticipation. Heat spread. Breathing had become more difficult. No regrets. None.

His huge hands roamed her naked body, exploring her bum, hips, her ribcage, unimpeded skin on skin. He squeezed her breasts gently, toying with her nipples. He positioned her on the edge of the bed on all fours and dropped to his knees behind her. He kissed one cheek then the other, hands firm on her flesh. Then he spread her legs slightly and connected with his tongue.

Stars burst to life in her blood. In the room. Everywhere. One touch from him and she’d been transported. His tongue worked magic. He’d leave bruises on her ass from that grip, and she did not care. With a deft move, he flipped Quinn onto her back and sought her breasts. With both in one hand, he flicked his tongue between them while his fingers worked her clit. It was bliss, but it wasn’t enough.

“I want you inside me,” she moaned.

He moved his mouth down to her mound and clamped his hands on her thighs. “There’s a condition.”

“I have come for you a million times. I met your condition.”

“I have a new one.”

He distracted her with his tongue so deliciously that Quinn couldn’t even watch. “Anything,” she begged.

She opened her eyes when he paused. His lips parted, but no words came. He gave a headshake and dropped back down, intent on her pleasure. Apparently, he would not be sharing that condition, or his body. Too bad, since she ached to watch him shatter along with her.

“Tell me,” she urged.

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