Page 202 of Top Shelf

“Still good?”

“Yes.” I stroke my thumb along his jaw. “So fucking good.”

Viktor pulls back and thrusts in harder, making the headboard hit the wall. My eyes fly up to it, and I huff a laugh.

“Did you assemble this bed first because you wanted to fuck me on it.”

“Mm.” His hips drive into mine. “I assembled it correctly.”

Another thrust, and the frame knocks the wall again. My laugh breaks into a moan, and Viktor fucks me with the rough, deep rhythm he knows I love, his hand gripping my ass while I wrap both legs around him and meet every stroke. The bed-frame continues hitting the wall behind us, the rattling of it mixing with the wet sounds of his thrusts slapping against me, and proof that his precious moving plan had at least one excellent priority.

He lifts my thigh higher and changes the angle, and he next thrust steals the air from my lungs.

“Fuck, fuck yes. God, don’t stop.”

My fingers dig into his shoulders and I pull him down until his mouth finds mine, kissing him deep deep and slow. There’s something different about this.

Maybe it’s the house. Maybe it’s the wedding ribbon lying discarded beside us. Maybe it’s the giant photograph downstairs, the two of us laughing under an arch before either of us fully understood what we were choosing.

I touch his face. “Our bed.”

Viktor’s eyes find mine, a crease forming between his brows.

“Our house.”

His rhythm falters slightly.

“No contract,” I whisper. “No deadline. Nothing telling me I have to be here or you have to be with me.”

His jaw tightens.

“I’m here because I want you. I want this.” My voice catches when he thrusts deeper. “I want all of it.”

“Heidi. Baby. You are so fucking beautiful in our bed.” His eyes search mine as he thrusts deeper. “You look beautiful when you are laughing at me. Beautiful when you are telling me what to do. Beautiful when you are tied up and trying very hard to pretend you are not losing your mind.”

Heat races across my skin.

“Viktor, don’t sto—”

“And I love how you ask for what you want.” His voice roughens. “I love that you tell me when you want more, when you need less, when you want me rougher.”

My throat closes up and he presses his forehead to mine, eyes locked on me while his hips keep moving.

“My wife knows exactly what she wants.”

“Yeah.” I nod, lifting my hips to meet his. “I want you. And you’re so fucking good at giving me exactly what I ask for.”

His mouth crashes into mine and his breathing turns ragged as a hand slides between us. When his thumb finds my clit I groan into his mouth.

“Come with me, min fru.”

The orgasm builds from somewhere deep, wringing through a body already exhausted and oversensitive until I’m clutching his shoulders and crying out against his mouth. Viktor loses it with me. His rhythm breaks, his face drops into my neck, and he comes with my name rough against my skin while the bed-frame gives one final knock against the wall.

Eventually, he shifts carefully onto his side and takes me with him, drawing me against his chest while my breathing settles. The ribbon lies rumpled across the sheets, and I pick up one end and wind it lazily around my finger.

“That was absolutely rope behavior.”

Viktor looks down at me. “It remains ribbon.”