I sit up and drag a hand through my tangled hair. Cora’s arm is thrown over her head. Her cheek is resting on her elbow, her lips parted like she fell asleep talking. I think she did, actually.
“I’ve never known a guy who wanted to use toys in bed,” she said a few hours ago, still flushed from her fourth—maybe fifth, possibly sixth or seventh or twelfth—orgasm of the night. “They’re always afraid they’ll be replaced.”
“Then you’ve only slept with lesser men.”
She snorted. “You can say that again.”
“No, you say it.” I rolled over, a light hand banded around her throat. “Say I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, turning her a gorgeous shade of pink that had me semi-hard again. But her green eyes found mine and stuck. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, Ivan.”
Some unspoke
