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Fuck. She wants this. Not the files, not the mission, not whatever plan she walked in here in the first place. Just this.

And so do I.

I get the nightgown off her. She lifts her arms, lets me, and then she’s bare. I pull back and look at her. Pale skin, dark hair all over my pillow, her eyes on mine. Her nipples are already hard, her chest is moving fast, and she’s wet, I can tell before I’ve touched her, I can smell it. I run my hand from her shoulder down over her breast and she watches my hand move down her body. Her lips part, and her breath goes shallow. My cock is already a hard problem.

“You’re staring,” she says.

“Da,” I say. “You’re worth staring at.”

She opens her mouth. Closes it again. I get my mouth on her breast before she finds whatever she was going to say, sucking her nipple slow, my tongue working circles around it. Her back comes up off the mattress, and her fingers go tight in my hair. I switch sides, my thumb rolling the wet nipple while my mouth takes the other, and she makes sounds like little exhales through her nose that she hasn’t learned to stop yet. I keep going until her hips are moving against nothing. Her hands have given up on my hair and gone to the sheets instead.

“Volkov,” she moans.

“Still busy,” I say.

“You’ve been busy for ten minutes,” she says.

“Da,” I say, and drag my mouth down her stomach.

She swears under her breath. I take my time on the way down, her ribs, the dip of her waist, the inside of her hip where she always twitches when I get close. She goes very still when I reach her inner thigh. Her thighs are already open and she’s already wet, I can smell it before I’ve put my mouth anywhere near her. I pull her thighs wider with my forearms and hold them there.

I lick her slow, one long stroke from bottom to top, and she grabs the sheets with both fists. I do it again, same pace, and her hips roll up toward my mouth before she’s had a chance to stop them. I find her clit with the tip of my tongue, tight circles, and she makes a sound she was trying to keep in her throat but couldn’t. She’s soaking already, pussy swollen and pink, and I haven’t even started yet.

She moans and then goes silent like she’s embarrassed the sound escaped her.

I keep going. Circles, then a long slow suck, then the flat of my tongue against everything, then back to her clit with the tip. She can’t predict it, and I can tell because every change gets a different sound out of her, a new breath, her hips making small helpless movements she can’t stop. I push two fingers inside her, curl them forward, suck her clit into my mouth at the same time. Her thighs clamp around my head and her whole body locks up.

She comes slow, which is new because it’s so different from her usual loud and thrashing. Her pussy clenches around my fingers in long deep pulses, her breath coming apart in short stuttered pieces. She grabs my hair, holds on, shakes through every pulse. I work her through all of it until her thighs fall slack and her grip loosens.

I sit up, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and look at her. Flat on her back, arm over her eyes, chest heaving, thighs wet and open. Flushed, wrecked, and completely soaked, and she has no idea how fucking hot she looks right now.

“Come here,” she says, from under her arm.

I move up the bed, she reaches for me before I’ve settled, her hand wrapping around my cock. She strokes me once, getting the weight of it, then again, her thumb dragging slow up the underside. I go harder in her grip. She stops watching her hand and watches my face instead, reading what tightens my jaw, and presses her thumb over the head on the upstroke, and my jaw does exactly that. She does it a third time, eyes on my face, knowing exactly what she’s doing now.

“You like that,” she says.

“You know I do,” I say. She might’ve come to me inexperienced, but she definitely learned more than enough to make me see stars.

She strokes me again and again. I get my fingers back inside her while she works me, two fingers deep, curling forward, and she arches up, grip tightening, hips pushing toward my hand. We stay like that, her stroking me, me working her, both breathing hard in the dark, her getting wetter every time I curl my fingers forward until she’s dripping down my hand.

I pull my fingers back, push her knee up, settle between her thighs. She spreads wider before I’ve asked.

I get my cock against her, feel how wet she is before I’ve pushed in an inch, soaking, hot, and swollen. I press forward slowly, just the tip first, and she sucks in a breath. I push deeper, an inch, another, feel her pussy stretch around me, grip, and stretch again, taking me in slow. She’s so wet it should be easy, but she’s tight enough that I feel every inch of it, her body pulling me in and resisting at the same time. I keep going slow because I want her to feel all of it.

Halfway in and she’s already gripping me hard, her hands flat on my back, her breath held. I push the rest of the way home, one steady press until I’m buried completely, my hips flush against hers, nothing left to give her. She holds her breath until I stop. I hold still, feel her clench and release around me twice, her body working out what to do with being this full. Then her hips shift toward me.

I pull back and push in again.

She exhales, hands spreading flat across my back, fingers wide, nails already threatening.

Long deep strokes, nothing fast, pulling all the way back and driving all the way home. She wraps her legs around my hips, tilts her pelvis up, and on the next stroke I go deeper, coaxing a moan out of her as her nails find my shoulder blades.

Face to face in the dark. Her eyes on mine, mine on hers. Neither of us looks away. Neither of us says a word about it.

I get my hand under her lower back and tilt her hips to change the angle. Her mouth opens, her nails dig deeper into my shoulder. I do it again from that angle, and she’s pulling me tighter with her legs.

“Don’t change anything,” she says.