Page 74 of Top Shelf

“I do want to eat you alive.” His eyes lift to mine. “And I am not annoyed, I’m trying to control myself.”

My breath catches, and he nods toward me. “Turn around again.”

I should make him say please, or make him work for it more. But the low rasp of his voice thrills me, and I turn slowly, glancing back over my shoulder as I catch the hem of my jersey.

His eyes drop to his name across my back, watching as I lift the hem inch by inch, feeling the damp steam kiss the skin it reveals beneath. I hear his breath change when it clears my bra, when the last letters of KARLSSON slide up my back and over my head.

The jersey falls to the floor, and Viktor groans audibly.

“Fuck.” The word sounds almost helpless in his mouth. “Look at you.”

I reach back for the clasp of my bra and unclip it, still watching him over my shoulder. His gaze travels from my face to my hands, to the black lace cupping my breasts.

The straps loosen and slide down my arms, his heated expression giving me a rush as I let the lace fall away entirely.

I like being looked at with desire and intent, and Viktor looks at me like he’s spent the last four nights imagining this and still undershot it.

My fingers hook into the sides of my underwear. “Do you want these off too?”

“I want everything off,” he replies, voice breaking a little. “Then I want you in here.”

I slide the lace down my legs and stand there naked in the steam while his eyes devour me, then I step closer and into the shower. The water hits my shoulders, and Viktor’s hand comes to my waist, the touch of his bare palm against my skin wiping every thought from my head.

“You can still leave,” he murmurs. “And you can tell me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“Okay.”

It’s such a simple reply, and I wonder if he has more to say, but his eyes drop to my lips and then his mouth follows.

For a man who speaks like he saves words for special occasions, Viktor kisses like he’s been hoarding this for weeks. Because this kiss is nothing like the one at the game, or in the courthouse.

His mouth is hot and wet and devastatingly patient, a hand sliding around my waist while the other cups my jaw, angling my face so he can lick into me slowly. He swallows the sound I make and hums deeply in return, a rough noise that rumbles up from his chest and turns my entire body molten.

I grip his shoulders as the water pounds down around us, the glass fogging until the whole world narrows to his mouth on mine. As he leans in, his cock presses against my stomach, and I break the kiss with a gasp.

He freezes, and I look down between us.

“Sorry,” I say, though I have absolutely no idea why.

His brows pull slightly together. “For what?”

“For—” I gesture vaguely, which is difficult to do while naked and wet and pressed against the man I accidentally walked in on. “Reacting like a Victorian widow seeing an ankle.”

His expression turns amused as he drags his hand over the curve of my hip. “You are not very Victorian, Heidi. You saw me.” The rough pad of his thumb brushes my lower stomach, making every muscle there tighten. “And then you joined me.”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“Then do not apologize.” My heart bangs against my ribs as Viktor leans in, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear as his hand moves between my thighs. “I liked you looking.”

The words make me shudder as his fingers pause, and I realize he’s waiting. So I reach down to take his wrist, and guide his hand where I want it. His breath changes the second he feels how wet I am.

“Fuck,” he rumbles.

My eyes flutter. “That didn’t sound very Swedish.”

“That is because you are very wet. Is this how wet you were thinking of me in the shower this morning?”