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“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she says.
His voice is low and husky. “No.” He nips playfully at her earlobe. “No, ve shouldn’t.”
His arms snake around her waist, pulling her even closer. His calloused fingers ghost over the sensitive skin of her stomach, slowly inching upwards.
“I have a husband,” she protests weakly.
He kisses his way down her creamy neck, across her proffered throat. She gasps in sinful pleasure.
“Yes,” he acknowledges somberly. “And I haff a vife.”
His mouth has reached the corner of hers and he hesitates, silently asking permission. She turns slightly, capturing his lips in hers. She feels his tongue trace her lips and readily parts them, reveling in his heady flavor.
“Viktor,” she murmurs when they pause for air, “this is so wrong.”
His dark eyes, dilated with lust, gaze passionately into hers. “Da, mila,” he whispers finally, and she can see him struggling to contain his emotions. “Da. Is vrong, but so beautiful.”
She cannot help but agree.