Levent growled as her body arched underneath him, and he pulled himself onto the bed and onto her, licking her neck. They both knew what they wanted—if it hadn’t been obvious the moment both set foot in the room, or even when the woman made her offer at the table—and there was no point in prolonging this. Perhaps he would have taken his time kissing and whispering were this a more romantic meeting, but it wasn’t. He wasn’t deluding himself to the fact that he just met this woman; he was attracted by her power and confidence, by the thought of being on equal standing with her, tearing away the polite façade she’d put on when they shook hands at the bazaar.
He settled onto her for a moment, her pelvis cradling his, and gently rubbed her shoulders one last time before slipping inside. His hips moved steadily, his arms straight as he kept most of his weight off of her. He would let her choose the pace; every man and woman he slept with was different, and the focus would be on her and her pleasure right now.
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