Page 45 of Shatter Me

"Is up." I draw her onto my lap. "And Akim knows better than to lower it."

Her head falls back against my shoulder as my hands roam freely now. One slides up to cup her breast through the silk while the other teases between her thighs over the fabric of her jumpsuit. “Your choice in attire is inconvenient,” I muse, wishing I could get my hands on her pussy,

"Someone could see," she protests weakly, even as she grinds against me.

"The windows are tinted." I suck at her pulse point. "No one can see how badly you want this."

I hold her firmly in place, her back pressed against my chest. My fingers trace the delicate gold chains crossing her exposed skin, savoring how they catch the passing city lights.

"Stay still," I command when she tries to turn. My other hand splays across her stomach, keeping her exactly where I want her.

I brush my lips along her neck, tasting her pulse racing beneath the skin. The silk rustles as she shifts against me.

"You planned this," I murmur against her ear, following the path of another gold chain with my fingertips. "Wearing this tonight, driving me crazy knowing I can’t get to you without getting you home."

"Not everything is about you, Dmitri." But her voice catches as my hand slides higher up her ribcage over the fabric.

"No?" I trace the edge of the silk where it meets the bare skin of her breasts. "Then why choose something that leaves you so... exposed and yet inaccessible?"

She tries to turn again, but I tighten my grip. "I said stay still."

A small sound escapes her throat—half protest, half need. I smile against her neck, knowing I've won this round. My fingers dance along her collarbone, following the delicate chain down until it disappears beneath the silk.

"Your grandmother's earrings may be Art Deco," I whisper, "but this body chain is pure modern art. The way it frames you..." I trace another line down her stomach, making her arch. "Exquisite."

Her fingers dig into my thighs as I continue carefully exploring every inch of exposed skin. The partition remains firmly up as the car glides through the night, carrying us toward my penthouse, where I plan to take my time unwrapping this particular gift.

18

TASH

Istep out of the Mercedes, Dmitri's firm hand at my lower back guiding me through the gleaming lobby. The doorman nods, averting his eyes as we pass.

The private elevator opens with a soft chime, all chrome and mirrors. Dmitri crowds me against the wall when the doors close, his fingers trailing along my collarbone.

"You're flushed such a pretty pink," he murmurs against my neck.

"Your effect on me." I try to steady my breathing as we ascend sixty floors. The city lights sparkle through the glass walls, but I can barely focus on them.

The elevator opens directly into his penthouse foyer. My heels click on Italian marble as I take in the space that screams wealth, power, and precise control. Everything gleams—the chrome, the glass, the polished surfaces. Not a single item is out of place.

The great room stretches before us, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing a stunning view of Boston. I recognize modern art pieces that adorn the walls, perfectly spaced and lit. A Rothko commands one wall, its deep crimson seeming to pulse in the dim light.

"Your home is..." I trail off, taking in the clean lines and monochromatic palette.

"Exactly what you expected?" His hands slide around my waist from behind.

I nod. The space perfectly reflects him, with every detail calculated and every item chosen with purpose. A sleek Steinway grand piano anchors one corner, its lid closed. The furniture is all low-slung leather and chrome, nothing soft or yielding.

"The art collection alone must be worth..."

"None of it is half as stunning as you." His fingers find the zipper just above my ass. "I have other artwork I want to enjoy tonight."

I catch our reflections in a wall of mirrors—me in my vintage Valentino jumpsuit, him still impeccable in his suit despite our activities in the car. The juxtaposition of his controlled exterior and what I know lies beneath sends a shiver through me.

"Cold?" His breath tickles my ear.

"No." I lean back against his chest. "Quite the opposite."

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