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“Lachlan, I’m—”

“Yes. That’s my girl. Come for me.”

There was no holding it back.

My orgasm tore through me as I shouted his name.

My whole body tightened around him, pussy clenching hard enough to make his rhythm falter.

Lachlan moaned and drove himself as deep as he could go.

His cock pulsed inside me.

I felt the first warm rush of his cum as his hips jerked against mine with each release.

Again.

And again.

His forehead dropped between my shoulder blades while the last pulses worked through him.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

He stayed buried inside me while our breathing slowly settled, his hands still holding my hips as though he had no intention of ever letting me go.

I was perfectly happy with that arrangement.

Eventually, though, Lachlan lifted his head and withdrew.

I hated the loss of him immediately and wanted him to stay deep within me forever. Connected. Not even air between us.

The thought was dangerously close to something bigger than sex, and I was nowhere near ready to examine it while naked in Nikolai Volkov’s airplane.

Then another realization hit me.

How loudly had I shouted Lachlan’s name?

Oh God.

What if everyone outside had heard me?

Before I could properly panic, Lachlan eased me down onto the mattress, pulled back the covers, climbed beneath them, and tugged me onto his chest.

I was beginning to suspect this was where he liked me best after sex.

His arm wrapped snugly around my waist while the fingers of his other hand caught a lock of my hair and idly wound it around them.

He kissed the top of my head.

“Christ, Mouse.”

Something in his voice made me lift my head.

He was smiling.

“You were fucking beautiful for me.”

Heat crept over my face.