"The girls," I manage when he moves to my throat.
"Sound asleep." He nips at my pulse point. "I checked."
"Your phone?—"
"Can wait." He lifts me suddenly, setting me on the counter. "Everything can wait. I need—" He pauses, breathing hard. "Tell me to stop if this isn't what you want."
"Don't you dare stop," I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist.
He groans, capturing my mouth again.
His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, skimming my thighs, mapping every curve like he's trying to memorize me by touch.
I give as good as I get, finally able to explore the body I've been dreaming about for months.
The guest room—my room—is familiar and safe, and when Rio lays me on the bed, looking down at me with eyes gone black with want, I've never felt more desired.
"You're sure?" he asks one more time.
Instead of answering, I pull my shirt over my head.
His control snaps. "Jesus Christ, Dasha."
His eyes devour me, taking in the black lace bra I definitely didn't plan on him seeing tonight.
Who am I kidding? I've been wearing nice underwear for months, just in case.
"You're fucking perfect," he growls, then his mouth is on me, hot and demanding.
He kisses down my throat, across my collarbone, teeth grazing the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
I arch against him, nails digging into his shoulders as he unhooks my bra with one hand—a skill that shouldn't be as hot as it is.
"Rio," I gasp when his mouth finds my breast, tongue circling before teeth graze just hard enough to make me see stars.
"I've thought about this," he confesses against my skin, hands skimming down my sides. "Every fucking morning when you're in my kitchen. Every time you bend over to help the girls with their shoes. Christ, Dasha, do you know what you do to me?"
"Show me," I challenge, and his eyes flash dangerously.
He strips me efficiently, reverent and hungry all at once.
When his fingers find me already wet and ready, we both groan.
"So fucking wet," he murmurs, working me with skilled fingers while his mouth continues its assault on my senses. "Is this for me, baby?"
"Only you," I manage, hips rocking against his hand. "Always you."
He adds another finger, curling just right, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
The last thing we need is to wake the girls, but God, he's making it difficult to stay quiet.
"Let me taste you," he says, already moving down my body.
"Rio, I need?—"
"I know what you need." He settles between my thighs, looking up at me with dark eyes full of promise. "Been wanting to do this for fucking years."
The first touch of his tongue makes me arch off the bed.