"Will you let me do that? Touch you, everywhere?"
She turned in his arms, her response to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.
It was his turn to groan, a low, guttural sound that reverberated deep in his chest, sending a hungry tremble through her body.
He lifted his head, his eyes roaming over her face. "I'm taking your response as a yes."
She nodded, even as a lucid, practical part of her brain tried to reason with her. But that portion of her brain might as well be trying to reach her by using two cans and some string. Because she could barely hear it. And she didn't want to hear it. She just wanted to feel.
"I want this," she whispered.
Maksim smiled, and then she found herself scooped up against his broad chest.
She laughed, surprised by the sudden shift of her world.
"Where is your room?"
She pointed toward the hallway, and he strode in that direction. Once there, he eased her down on her bed, following her down. But he just leaned over her, studying her, his handsome face cast in shadows.
"You're sure?"
She gazed back up at him, understanding his hesitation. She knew this was a huge change in attitude. But she needed to let go, even if just for this one night. She needed to feel safe, and as unlikely as it seemed, Maksim did make her feel safe.
Maksim could make her forget. She wanted that.
"You don't want this to be anything more than fun, right?" she asked, reaching up to touch his face, the sharp cut of his jawline, the hint of stubble on his cheeks.
"Just fun," he agreed.
"No commitments. No strings. No ‘L-word. "
He regarded her for a moment, and she couldn't quite read his expression. Then he nodded.
"That's what I want, too."
He leaned down and kissed her, the touch gentle and sweet and filled with a tenderness that seemed strangely at odds with the idea of just using each other for physical release.
He pulled back, his body over hers. Her hand knotted in his hair. "You are a mystery to me, Josephine Burke."
She smiled. "Well that makes us even, Maksim Kostova."
Maksim didn't know what to make of Jo's words. The mortal women he'd been with just didn't go into a relationship with these kind of arrangements laid out on the table. Even if they did, there was always a tone under their words that said, while they might be agreeing to just sex, they were expecting that to change.
Maksim studied Jo's eyes. And he didn't see any longing there, or hope, or determination like she intended to sway his opinion on the subject. He just saw lust. And he knew lust when he saw it. He'd seen it in his own eyes many, many times.
Jo just wanted good sex. Damn.
Damn.
He shook his head, taking in her smoldering, dark eyes. Her pink lips parted, glistening in the dim light.
"What?" she asked, smiling.
"Just thanking my lucky stars."
Her smiled widened, and he had to taste her.
His mouth caught hers. She opened for him instantly, while her arms circled his neck, pulling him down onto her. Their tongues touched, then darted away, only to return to savor each other's again.
But apparently now that Jo had made up her mind that sex was what she wanted, she wasn't satisfied to go slowly. With her mouth still locked with his, she pushed at his shoulders, pressing him back into the mattress.
"Like taking control, huh?" he murmured against her lips.
"Oh yeah. I'm a bit of a control freak." She nipped his bottom lip, then rose up and straddled him. The weight of her slight body was wonderful on his. Her soft, warm ass nestled over his already granite-hard erection.
"Hmm," he ran his hands up her legs, now bared by her position and her hiked-up skirt. Her skin was smooth and hot, her thighs firm. He groaned again. He couldn't wait to feel her riding him.
"I'm a control freak, too," he told her. "But I think tonight I'm more than willing to relinquish control."
"Good," she said, her fingers going to the hem of his shirt. She slipped her hands underneath, shaping her open palms over his stomach and slowly up over his chest.
"Off," she ordered, and he obeyed, levering himself up enough to tug the shirt over his head. He flung it onto the floor.
Jo made a low sound of appreciation, then leaned forward to press open-mouthed kisses over his chest, her teeth finding his puckered nipples. She nipped in hard.
His body convulsed, his erection pulsing wildly against her.
"Damn, woman," he growled. His hands tangled in her hair, making a mess of the twisted knot she wore as part of her usual "community center director" look. That wasn't what she looked like now.
She looked like a wanton nymph draped over him, her hair mussed, her eyes dark. She was so damned sexy. He pulled her down to him, his mouth ravishing hers. His hunger, which he already considered over the top, was quickly spiraling into something huge. Something all-encompassing.
But he knew how to get this feeling under control. He needed to be inside this woman, buried deep.
He rotated his hips, mindlessly seeking where he had to be. The place that would make him feel whole, complete.
Jo kissed him back with the same ferocity he was feeling, her body writhing on his, seeking the same release he did.
He rose up, easily lifting her with him, wanting to pin her under his weight. Wanting to strip her naked and drive himself into her, hard and deep.
But to his surprise, Jo strained against him, not allowing him to change their position. She broke their kiss and placed her hands on his shoulders, using all her strength to press him back to the mattress.
"Uh-uh," she told him with a slow, wicked smile. Her skin was flushed, her breath coming in soft little puffs. She sat back, wiggling her hips, teasing him.
"I thought you understood that I like control?" she said softly, grinding her hips against him.
He gritted his teeth, imagining that movement without their clothing between them. With his cock inside her.
"Mmm," he moaned. "I forgot. I'll lie here like a good boy if we can just lose the clothes."
Jo arched an eyebrow, skepticism flashing in her dark brown eyes. A smile unfurled on her lips. "Is that so?"
He nodded, for a moment even her expression so arousing, so breathtakingly lovely, he couldn't answer.
She pretended to consider the idea. The occasional wayward wriggle of her hips was the only sign that she was as turned on as he was.
"Okay." Her fingers fingered the buttons on her sensible white cotton shirt. She flicked open one, then another, then another, each loose button revealing glimpses of more creamy white skin.
Maksim watched, transfixed as if she were a practiced, very talented, exotic dancer doing a performance solely for him. He swallowed as she slipped the material off her shoulders. She sat astride him, her small, perfect breasts encased in pale peach lace. The shadow of her rosy nipples teased him from behind the delicate fabric.
He cupped the soft swells, his thumbs brushing the hardened tips, circling them.
She gasped as he squeezed small points, her hands coming up to cover his, her head falling back, her long hair falling in unruly waves over her shoulders.
His hands slipped out from under hers, slowly shaping down over her side, feeling each gentle ridge of her ribs, the smooth skin of her stomach, stopping at the waistband of her skirt. His thumb toyed with the edge, slipping just under, then sliding out.
She watched him, her eyes heavy-lidded, but when he reached around the back to unzip the garment, she caught his hand. She shook her head.
"No, no," she scolded, her voice low, sexy. She shifted, crawling off of him, her movements fluid, sinuous. A deep, desperate noise rumbled in his throat.
She stood, giving him an almost impish smile. "I'll be right back." She then reached behind her and undid the skirt. It puddled to the floor.