“You got your wall slam, but I haven’t checked off everything on my list. On the plane, I told you that if you came to bed, I’d eat you up. We don’t need a bed for that, though.”

He licked his lips, and Nya’s knees went a little weak because she knew what that tongue could do to the most innocuous patches of skin. Now he wanted to taste her . . . there?

She leaned her shoulders back against the satin-lined wall for support, bracing herself, then splayed her fingers through Johan’s silky auburn strands. She tightened her grip, loving the way his eyes went an intense stormy blue as he looked up at her. She’d been practicing her dirty talk, but this was going to be easy.

“Eat me up,” she ordered. Three simple words to describe an act that she’d thought she was prepared for. She was wrong.

Johan’s big hands moved away from her ass, gripping the fabric of her skirt, parting the slit, and pushing it up. His mouth was already dragging up her thighs from her knee, pressing hard kisses into the soft skin. Pleasure didn’t make a gradual appearance—it slammed into her, pressing her body back into the wall, and that was before he pushed her underwear to the side and slid his tongue roughly over her clit.

Johan had always taken things torturously slowly, but not tonight.

“Oh my goddess,” she gasped. “Holy . . .”

He shifted forward on his knees, nuzzling up into her as he swirled his tongue over her nub relentlessly. The lascivious sound of him licking her—savoring her—was an accompaniment to the aria being sung on the stage, along with the soft cries she couldn’t swallow.

Her whole body vibrated with pleasure, like the delight she’d felt as the first loud attack of the orchestra filled the auditorium, but condensed so that it was barely contained in her body. His tongue curled between her folds relentlessly, like he was trying to unlock the secret of Tootsie Pops. Her knees shook, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could stand—or how much longer.

It’s too much! She thought one moment and then, It’s not enough! She tried not to tug at his hair, but he must have felt her fingers tighten and he took her direction.

His hand gripped her ass to hold her steady, and then he pressed his mouth firmly over her clit and sucked. Nya went boneless at the sharp shock of pleasure. She could barely hold herself up as he increased the pressure of his tongue and the suction of his mouth swirled over her nub. Johan didn’t stop, didn’t break rhythm as he held her up—his dedication to giving her pleasure couldn’t be called into question.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Nya pressed her fist into her mouth, unable to stop the cries that his tongue wrung from her, and when the peak of her orgasm finally hit her legs gave out and she slid to the floor where he caught her and pulled her on top of him as he lay back on the carpet.

“?a geet et?” he asked smugly, his arms wrapped around her and his hand rubbing the exposed skin of her back. His answer was in her ragged breath in his ear and how her body still trembled from his touch. But even though her legs felt like jelly and they were sprawled on the ground, she wanted more.

“I could be better,” she replied, sitting up so that her knees pressed into the carpet and she straddled him. She reached between them to unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his pants, kissing him as she pulled his cock free from his boxer briefs, and he was hard and hot in her hands. “I think we could both be better.”

“Sugar . . .”

“Do you have a condom?” She asked in a firm tone because if he didn’t want to be with her that was one thing, but she wouldn’t be second-guessed based on some notion of not knowing her own mind. Not in this.

He looked at her for a long moment, his gaze taking in her face, and then he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her roughly. He reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a square foil-wrapped object.

“The tuxedo came stocked with these.” He leaned in to kiss her again, and this kiss was light and playful, then he pulled away to rip open the packet. “It’s not like I’ve been carrying these around praying to all the deities that we might . . .” He shook his head. “I want you so badly, Nya. So fucking badly. In every way.”

Nya felt an ache in her chest, and she knew what it was.

“I’m already yours,” she said tenderly. Then she ran her hands down his lapels and tugged. “But I am really horny right now, soooo . . .”

She looked meaningfully down at the condom.

“You—” He shook his head with a low laugh, then rolled on his condom with practiced finesse, a nerve on his forehead jumping when Nya stroked him after it was on. “You really are something.”

“Something?” she asked, stroking him, wanting him inside of her but not wanting to pull her gaze from his.

“Something. Everything. Every damn thing.” He looked at her like she could extinguish suns and ignite supervolcanoes. Then he was pushing up her skirt, running his hands worshipfully over her thighs, and—

“Oh goddess,” Nya cried as he ripped her lacy underwear.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning wickedly. “That’s part of the debauchery package.”

“Not sorry,” she said, levering herself up with her knees. “That was hot, Phoko.”

She should have been nervous, but she couldn’t be, with Johan looking up at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, with him brushing her body with possessive but gentle caresses. He wanted her so badly that he was shaking with need, and that gave Nya all the bravery she needed to sink down onto his shaft.