There’s something possessive in his voice. If I were in my right mind, I’d pay attention to it, but I’m not, so instead I kiss him and we stagger down the hallway with our lips locked. Groans and the occasional ouch escape us as we bang into doors and a hall table that sadly doesn’t survive the collision.

“Oh,” I say, sadly looking down at the splintered piece of wood. “I liked that table.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” he gasps, kissing me again and stealing my thoughts. “I’ll buy you another one,” he says passionately. “Exactly the same. I’ll buy you ten.”

That deserves a kiss, so I do that, and then again and again until he’s pushing me onto the bed and I feel the cold sheets under my back and then the heated skin of his body as he lowers himself onto me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “That feels incredible, Misha.”

His weight feels as if it’s been calibrated just for me. Not too heavy and not too light. It’s all utterly perfect—his hairy chest rubbing my nipples, the pressure of his cock against mine, the sticky slide of his precome.

He pulls back. “How do you want it?” he asks in a low voice, bending to nuzzle my nipples. A bright flash of heat jolts me with pleasure, and I arch against his talented mouth.

“Like that,” I gasp, grabbing his head and urging him on.

He sucks on the small disc happily, his tongue laving over it. He gives a little bite, and I cry out, grabbing his bum and grinding against him.

“No, wait,” he says, pulling back. I choke out a protest, and he shakes his head. “I’m going to come if we do that,” he gasps. He looks at me intently, his hair sticking up from where my hands have been in it and a deep flush over those high cheekbones. “Can I fuck you? Do you like that?”

“I love it,” I say far too fervently.

“Are you sure? I’m vers. I can go either way.”

“I do like to switch occasionally, but I prefer to bottom.”

“Oh, Charlie,” he says and bends to kiss me again. When he pulls back this time, I don’t chase his mouth. Instead, I lie back on his sheets and spread my legs as he rifles in his bedside table for supplies.

When he looks back, he stills. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says in a wondering voice.

I flush. “Really?” Somehow those words mean more with Misha.

He nods, strong emotion running over his face. “How did I never see?”

I smile. “That goes both ways, Misha.” I hold out my arms. “Come here,” I command, and he scrambles to obey.