Page 200 of Top Shelf

My breath catches as his mouth closes over my shoulder. “I assembled the bed.”

“Yeah, you keep bringing that up.”

His teeth scrape lightly over my skin. “You are about to appreciate it.”

A shiver runs straight through me. “Cocky.”

“Yes.”

He strips my pants down my legs next, then waits while I step out of them, his gaze moving slowly back up my body. There’s no rush in him now. He knows impatience lives under my skin like an itch, and he has learned exactly how much wetter I get when he takes his time.

My knees hit the mattress as he guides me back.

“Sit.”

I do. Then he takes my left wrist, then my right, bringing them together in front of me as he winds the silk carefully around them. His fingers work deliberately slow, and I watch the same ribbon that once lay across our joined hands disappear around mine.

When he finishes the knot, he slips two fingers beneath it and checks the tension before securing the remaining thread to the wooden bed-frame, leaving enough give that I can flex my hands but nowhere near enough to reach him.

I look up at my wrists, and the sight of it does something obscene to me. Our wedding ribbon, tying me to our bed. My husband kneeling between my thighs.

Viktor tests the knot once more before his attention drops down my body, and I feel that look everywhere. He pushes my knees apart and lowers himself between them, and by the time his mouth reaches the inside of my thigh, I’m already wet enough that there’s no pretending otherwise.

His thumb slides through me once, and his eyes lift to mine. “So wet for me already, wife.”

The roughness in his voice makes my stomach clench. “You tied me to our bed with our wedding ribbon. Take some responsibility.”

His mouth curves faintly, then he lowers his head, and the first stroke of his tongue pulls a sharp gasp out of me. There’s no teasing conversation after that because Viktor’s mouth is busy and mine quickly becomes useless for anything except his name and a string of moaned curses.

He knows exactly how to devour me. He knows when to flatten his tongue against my clit and when to circle more slowly, when to hold my thighs open because my body starts trying to chase his mouth, and when to push and curl two fingers inside me until my wrists yank instinctively.

The bed-frame creaks, but Viktor’s mouth doesn’t stop.

“Fuck.”

His fingers work deeper while his tongue keeps a steady rhythm, and pleasure begins gathering much too quickly. I feel it in my stomach first, then lower, tightening until my legs tremble over his shoulders.

“Viktor, I’m so close.”

He eases back and my eyes open, watching as this fucking man kisses the inside of my thigh. I stare at him, breathing hard.

“You cannot be serious.”

His eyes are dark when he looks up at me, and I realize he’s completely serious. My vibrator appears from an open bedroom box a moment later, and the quiet buzz fills the room.

I look from the toy to his face. “You prioritized unpacking my sex toys?”

“I prioritized our bedroom.”

The answer is so Viktor that I laugh despite myself, but the laugh disappears when he presses the toy against my clit, and my whole body jerks.

He watches, his eyes moving from the toy and my squirming legs to the way my mouth has dropped open on a silent moan. The vibrator stays there while he leans back in, his mouth traveling lower and hands lifting my hips until my legs fall farther over his shoulders. Heat flashes through me, and his eyes lift to mine as he spreads me wider, lifting my hips higher. Then he groans, burying his face with the first slow pass of his tongue over my ass.

My breath vanishes from my lungs. “Oh, fuck.”

He does it again, and there is nothing tentative about him once he knows I want it. One hand holds my hips still while the vibrator hums steadily against my clit and his tongue rims me, filthy and patient and so fucking good that I lose track of which sensation I’m trying to move toward.

My wrists pull hard against the ribbon. He knows I can’t reach him, and I know he knows. That knowledge makes everything hotter to the point my breathing turns ragged and words start coming out without permission.