So the one hand he kept at her throat, her heartbeat vibrating off his fingertips, he kept gentle enough. But the other he had at her hip, forcing her back to meet his thrusts, he gripped harder, knowing by morning he would see his fingerprints embedded there.
A secret for them both.
She would feel it when she undressed, and when her fingers wandered there.
He might not have been able to claim her out there, but in his bedroom, where it was just the two of them, he made his ownership clear.
“God.”
He pressed her back further until his lips were at her ear, and he could hear every little sound she made even as she bit her lip to stifle them. “God? God, what?”
A please and a don’t stop tumbled from her lips, the words jumbling over each other in her need. He didn’t answer, he didn’t have to.
Soon, he could see it, the light tremor that hadn’t let up, and the way her moans had gone sharp and high. It told him that she was about to come. Shit, even he could feel it racing down his spine, making him bite down onto her shoulder, nearly losing his mind, but it wasn’t helping—it only made it worse.
“I need you to come, Violet. Fuck.”
His next words were harsh, a command for her to come on his cock, but they came out in Russian, his need too great for him to even realize, but it didn’t seem to matter to Violet as she erupted almost violently. A sharp whine forced its way out of her with the harsh thrusts he made.
Almost to the second she started coming, he finally let go, holding her tight against him as he gave another brutal thrust, then two, and finally on the third, he went back on his haunches, holding them there.
They were both sweating, both fighting for breath, and he knew in that moment, he was never going to be able to let her go.
Violet added a bit more milk to the bowl of whipped eggs, lightening the yellowish color to a softer cream when she ran a fork through the mixture with fast strokes. Pouring the mixture into a hot pan, she let it settle and waited for the bubbling to begin.
The throat clearing behind her didn’t startle her. She’d been working in the kitchen for a good thirty minutes, exploring the cupboards and fridge to find what she needed. And even though her companion hadn’t made a noise, she knew that Kaz had been watching her for the last five minutes.
She was up early—for once. Put his shower to use, heaven that it was, and decided to cook something to eat since she had the time to actually do so with no worries about a call that would send her running again.
What was the harm, right?
She had heard the movement coming from the bedroom not long after she left, but she was already preoccupied by her work in the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Kaz asked.
Violet shot him a look over her shoulder. “Take a guess.”
“Cooking.”
“Good guess,” she teased.
Kaz stayed leaning against the wall, watching her in that way of his while she worked, and saying nothing. Violet wasn’t so unnerved by his presence as she was his silence.
“Something on your mind?” she dared to ask.
“A bit.”
Two could play that game, so Violet decided to ease him into whatever he was chewing on.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” he admitted.
“Find a seat.”
“I like where I’m standing.”
Violet gave him another look. “Why is that?”
“I’m enjoying the view. It isn’t often my kitchen gets put to good use, never mind a woman that isn’t my sister cooking in it.”
Ah.
“Interesting,” Violet murmured, turning back to her work.
She didn’t even hear him move until he was right behind her. A fingertip pressed against the back of her neck, and then slowly traveled lower until it stopped at mid-spine. Having little else to wear but what she’d come in, Violet had opted to grab the dress shirt Kaz had discarded the night before. Anything to keep her decent—her panties—were a lost fucking cause.
“You look good in my clothes,” he said, the words whispering against the side of her neck.
Violet grinned, keeping her attention focused on not burning the scrambled eggs. “Do I?”
“Very. And standing here doing … this.”
“I like cooking.”
“It’s very domestic,” Kaz said.
Something in the lilt of his tone caught her attention. “Is that a problem? Did you want me to skip out of here before you woke up or something? I mean, I’m pretty sure I could still go on ahead and do that, but you’d be left to cook and eat the food yourself.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Stay,” he urged quietly, moving closer to her until his chest was molded to her back and a hand landed firmly on her hip.
Violet nodded, content where she was for the moment. “I have some time, anyway. Safe time.”
“Sure.”
His other hand tangled into the damp strands of her hair, moving it over her shoulder, but nothing else. “Tell me there’s more than just eggs, yes?”