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I reach down and pop the button of her jeans. “I prefer vanilla.”

I steer her around until her hips meet the edge of the dining table just off the kitchen and lift her onto it. I slide her denim and lace down her legs and off in one smooth motion and drop onto a dining chair between her thighs.

She braces her hands against the polished glass of the table, watching me with wide eyes.

I press my palms against her inner thighs, pushing them open, and look up at her from my seat.

“Wrap your thighs around my shoulders,” I tell her, my voice a low command. “And don’t let go.”

Her soft thighs wrap around my neck.

I lower my head and taste her.

She’s so fucking sweet. She always is, warm, slick, and instantly responsive. Her body trembles the moment my tongue finds her clit. I take my time with her the way I couldn’t take my time with anything today. Here, finally, is something I can handle. Something I can do for her. I work her slowly, doing all the things that make her fingers grip the glass tabletop and draw cries from her throat. Those sounds are becoming my favorite thing in the world.

“Zevran.” My name a gasping whimper. “Please—”

I pull back just enough to speak, my lips fluttering against her slick heat. “Please what, printsessa?”

“Don’t stop.” Her voice is a breathless plea. “Don’t you dare stop.”

I slide two fingers deep inside her tight core and feel her clench around me, urgent and wet. I curl them the way I know she likes, sucking her clit, working her until her thighs are shaking violently against my neck and her knuckles are white on the tabletop. She’s past words entirely. Just my name, said over and over.

When she comes apart, it’s with a cry that echoes off the high walls of the dining room. Her whole body arches, her free hand tangling wildly into my hair and gripping hard, anchoring me against her while the pleasure rolls through her in long, shuddering waves.

I stay with her until the last tremor fades. Then I get to my feet, scoop her naked lower half off the table before she can find her footing, and carry her straight through to the living room couch.

She doesn’t ask where we’re going. She just holds on, her arm wrapped tight around my neck, pressing soft, breathless kisses to my jaw and throat.

I lower her onto the couch and follow her down. She reaches for my shirt immediately, her small fingers working the buttons open with an urgency that matches my own. I pull her top over her head, unhook her bra, and she shrugs it off, looking up at me, naked, soft, and absolutely perfect.

I stand just long enough to strip my pants and underwear off. Her eyes instantly drop to my cock. Thick and heavy. Throbbing for her. The brazen way she looks at me is almost enough to make me lose control before I’ve even started.

I wrap one fist around my cock, position myself, and push inside her before either of us can think too hard.

She makes a sound that goes straight through my chest.

I don’t go slow. I can’t. I have been holding myself tightly together all day, and she is the only thing that loosens the grip. Her legs wrap around my waist, her nails digging into my back as she takes every inch of my cock.

Her eyes drop between us, watching where our bodies join with unguarded fascination. She presses her palm flat against my stomach, feeling the muscle work as I drive into her, her lips parted and wet.

“You like watching me fuck you?” I ask roughly, my hips hammering into her.

“Yes,” she pants, her fingers traveling lower, featherlight against our skin. “I love watching you inside me.”

I drive deeper, burying myself to the hilt, forcing a sharp gasp from her throat.

“You want to know what I think about,” I growl against her pulse point, “when I’m out there aching to get home to you?”

Her nails dig deeper into my shoulders. “Tell me.”

“How much better this is going to be,” I pull back to the head and thrust hard, filling her completely, “when you’re pregnant with my baby.”

She moans, a sound of pure surrender.

I keep moving, every deep stroke pressing the truth into her. “I want you pregnant, printsessa. I want to come home and find you warm and safe with my ring on your finger and my child in your belly.” My hand slides down to her flat stomach, pressing against her softness with fierce, possessive delight. “I want to watch you get round with my baby. I want to fuck you while you’re growing bigger, feeling every change in your body under my hands. I want everyone who looks at you to know exactly who you belong to.”

“Zevran,” she moans.