Page 39 of Frequency of Attraction

She couldn’t help her satisfied lip curl. “Good thing I planned on serving myself up on a platter.”

He hummed his approval, lips warm in the hollow of her shoulder.

Then he stepped back, drinking her in. She felt the force of his attraction like heat on her skin. If he liked her in jeans and a sweater, he was going to love what she had on underneath. Warmed by his gaze, she pulled her sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor. His eyes traced her pushed-up, heart-shaped décolletage. Peekaboo lace trim brushed against the top of her breasts.

Vadim pulled her closer by her waist. First, he outlined the constellation of Orion over her left hip. Then Libra, near her solar plexus. Then he drew circles around her nipples, which hardened under his featherlight touch. “Show me the rest, Quinn.”

He really needed to stop growling her name like that.

Quinn shimmied her jeans down her legs. She had to ditch her heels to do so. A shame, really.

“You next,” she ordered. No way she’d let him stay clothed this time. Clothes on that body were a crime.

Vadim stripped. Of course he wore no underwear. Quinn touched him because she had to. His hand went straight to her ass with a smack. Commanding. Drawing her even closer. Warm lips dropped down to follow the outline of the bustier as Quinn dug a hand in his carefully styled hair. One nipple received a tug from his teeth, then the other. Without a word, he pulled her toward the couch, dropping down and coaxing Quinn to follow.

She straddled his lap, hands back in his hair, and nibbled his neck to the sharp intake of his breath. She sucked the same spot as she had in her office. When she moved her lips off his neck, Vadim repositioned her body so she lay across his lap perpendicular to his upright frame. Not for the first time, he seemed enamored with her backside. He palmed one cheek then the other. Gripping, rubbing, squeezing, admiring, tapping. Then all over again. Quinn watched his face while he focused on manipulating her ass.

His blue eyes crashed into hers. “You said you wanted to fuck me. How?”

As sexy as she felt cloaked in lingerie with a rigid cock pressing into her stomach, she still couldn’t quite voice the words.

“Or do you want me to fuck you?” He squeezed her cheek for emphasis.

Maybe she could. “I do. From behind,” she whispered.

Vadim’s grin was feral. Pushing her gently forward, he crouched on his knees behind her. His hard cock rested between her cheeks, his hands still firmly attached to her bum. “Like this?” He moved, pushing against her in a movement that propelled Quinn forward. His hands drew her back.

“Yes.” The word ended in a hiss as he simulated sex. Again and again he bounced his hips against her, painting a picture Quinn wanted to own. To emulate.

“What about this?” Vadim pulled her thong to the side and replaced it with his tongue. He lapped gently, pulling what he could into his mouth. Quinn cried out and pressed into the tongue that sent electricity exploding through her veins. In response, he yanked her underwear down to the crook of her knees, spread her cheeks, and licked her from the bottom of her spine to her clit. Then back up again.

Quinn quaked down deep. His dark chuckle affected her almost as viscerally. He moved forward, drawn like a magnet to the tiny buttons that held the bustier together. He popped a few, spilling her breasts out of the snug fabric. Greedy fingers spread across her chest, rolling nipples with the intent to start fires.

“Wanna know how you’re going to fuck me?”

She still couldn’t form words. Vadim had just charted new territory like it was nothing.

He settled back on the couch and turned her so she straddled him again, one leg on each side of his. Her thong dropped to the floor. “Like this.” He ran his hands down both legs, top to bottom, like he had all the time in the world to tell this story. He peeled back the edges of the bustier, then ripped the whole thing off, sucking a nipple into his mouth as the pretty, star-studded bustier dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

Quinn’s breath became dependent on his. Heat spread from her core, scorching and soaked.

“This is how you’re going to fuck me after you come. Show me.”

Quinn was under a spell. Anything Vadim asked, she’d deliver. Quinn moved like she was fucking him. Her clit ground against his hardness, a delicious sensation that made her dizzy with desire. Up and down and back and forth, both naked but not penetrating, she showed him how she’d fuck him. He dipped her backward and buried his face in her cleavage. She’d smell like Paris after this.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. When are you going to come for me?”

She couldn’t reply.

His fingers slid to the slickness between her thighs and dragged backward. Fingers, tongue, nipples, and clit, a whirl of sensation meant to drive Quinn insane. She wanted to come so badly. She was so close. Her entire being burned. Every move, every memory, shoved her closer to the cliff’s edge. Slick, sure fingers skimmed in and out of her folds and up the seam of her backside. She was made of molten glass, in and out, and shattering felt imminent. Finally.

“Come for me,” he insisted. He grabbed a breast and bit down with perfect pressure. Quinn’s head tipped back as her hips moved of their own volition.

Flames climbed, devouring her skin from hip to chest. But then they dwindled. Flickered. Died. What had burned hot now ran cold.

“No,” she whispered. She ground against Vadim a few more times to be sure.

Nothing. Numbness. That heightened sensation had gone. He let go of her breast to stare into her face.

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