Page 51 of Wrapped in Perfection

"Okay."

We spend the next four hours choosing every piece needed for the three-bedroom unit. Dmitri's spreadsheet isn't as extensive as mine, but we use it, and it does move things along.

We work well together and laugh a lot. Everything I suggest he says he likes and approves. He orders sushi and gets it delivered. We eat while working, and when we get to the end, he looks at the spreadsheet. "Huh."

"Is that a good or a bad huh?"

Dmitri shuts the laptop, slides it down the table, and scoots his chair back. He grabs my waist and picks me up. He sets me on the table and leans into my ear. "You're fifteen percent under budget for that unit." He kisses behind my ear.

"Really?"

His hand moves down to my ass. "Yeah. And it's going to be nicer than what we normally do."

"It is?"

"Mm-hmm." His lips graze my collarbone. "I think it's time you got out of this skirt, kotik." He unzips the back.

Flutters race through my veins.

He still wants me. Even after what I told him.

"Your ass in this skirt has been torturing me all day," he murmurs and tugs it off me, along with my panties.

The cold wood feels good against my hot skin. I kiss the curve of his neck, and he slides his hands up my shirt, grazing my nipples. I whimper, and he glides his hand around me and unhooks my bra. He cups my breasts and groans. "Ass and breasts, and when you kiss me, you make me believe you want me. You're every man's dream."

My tarnished confidence soars to the sky. "I do want you." I pull his lips to mine, and our tongues swirl together in a kaleidoscope of perfection.

His hands move over every part of my body, as if they were meant to roam freely. There's no hesitation or awkwardness. Every trace of his fingers or tease of his knuckles or skim of his palm is with confidence.

I've never had anyone light me up by touching me before. Everything disappears except for him and how he makes me feel. The scent of his skin's been driving me crazy all day, yet it seems to get more intense the more he dotes on me.

He dips his head to my chest, and I kiss it, loving how he keeps it shaved, and I'm able to touch my lips to his skin while his mouth is devouring my breasts.

I used to love my body, but when Mitch started making comments about it, I became self-conscious and compared myself to other women. Dmitri mumbles Russian into my skin and sets my loins on fire. I don't know what he's saying, but it rolls out of his mouth and sounds sexy. And I'm naked, but he's fully clothed, which should make me nervous, but all I feel is a deep desire for him to consume me in any way he knows how.

He lifts his head and kisses me, deep and urgent. His hands slide on my thighs, then near my sex, but not on it.

I release the buttons on his shirt and push it over his shoulders. Tattoos cover his chest and right arm. I've never dated anyone with tattoos before. But the sight of his ripped flesh covered in ink turns me on more.

I pull him closer, and his hard pecs press into my breasts, warm and pulsing from his heartbeat.

He reaches behind him, yanks the chair, and sits. His mouth teases my inner thighs until I'm shaking and dripping on the table. Something in Russian fills the air, and he palms my ass and scoots me closer to the edge.

He throws my thighs over his shoulders. His mouth hits my pussy, and a deep, guttural groan vibrates against it.

I become his dinner. He goes slow, as if I'm a fine wine that should be savored, exploring every part of my sex with his mouth and fingers, until I'm barely on the wood and riding his face while he palms my ass.

"Oh...oh...oh..." I grip his head, squeezing my thighs around his neck. Tremors skyrocket through my body until I'm screaming out his name, not able to control my cries, which is different than any other time I've ever had sex.

He doesn't stop. His fingers grip my ass, and he holds my body as close to his face as possible.

I thought I knew what it was like to orgasm. I was wrong. Everything I had ever experienced before is a mere shadow of what he does to my body. And when he's done, I'm a quivering mess, desperate for his mouth on mine, wanting more from him.

He picks me up while kissing me, carrying me into his bedroom. At some point, he got rid of his pants. He's as naked as I am, and his cock is hard as steel.

I try to grip it, but my hand doesn't fit around his smooth shaft. I glance down and gasp at how large it is.How will that fit in me?

He sits on the edge of the bed. "I want to watch you, my kotik."

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