The reverent declaration was repeated by Sabrina over and over.

A sound that could only be described as a low rumble in Jack’s throat was accompanied by what Sabrina swore was the feel of his lips curving into a smile against her sex as he continued to kiss, caress, and lave the delicate folds of flesh housing what he had long ago wickedly dubbed “a taste of pink.” It was a taste, both knew, he craved above all others.

The only act Sabrina could manage was to lazily glide her trembling fingers through Jack’s hair as her body responded to his tongue languorously bathing her clit. Soon her unsteady, slender digits were splayed against his crown, desperate to push him away and halt his erotic efforts as he began to suckle anew the now too-sensitive tiny, pink nub. When Sabrina none too gently palmed a fistful of Jack’s sandy locks he relented, decreasing his efforts by just the faintest of degrees. But any relief the tawny beauty thought she had discovered was short-lived.

Perhaps spurred on by her throaty cries, or the sinuous undulation of her hips, whatever the reason, Jack doubled his efforts; never increasing the amount of pressure exerted by his mouth but deliberately focusing his attention on the ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves his tongue was so expertly flicking against.

Sabrina’s hoarse cry echoed throughout the suite in response. Her body arched from the bed, limbs locked in rigor as an almost painful climax overtook her; coursing through her like jolts of electricity. Panting, her body still beset by light spasms, Sabrina could only turn her face into the plush down pillow in the wake of another orgasm being pulled from her surprisingly still willing body.

With great effort Sabrina slid a still trembling hand across the silken sheets and tried her best to hold on; to anchor herself amid the storm her lover had unleashed. For the briefest of seconds she entertained begging for mercy; then just as quickly the notion was discarded. She knew better than to plead for him to stop, for she remembered the feral look he gave her as he rose from between her thighs after his first taste of her; it was the very same gaze he gave her all those months ago, the night they reunited. The reason was the same now as it had been then; as he had reminded her earlier in the evening. He’d been denied this act of loving worship for over a year.

And he had every intention of making up for lost time.

Once again, Sabrina found herself staring up into Jack’s mesmerizing azure gaze as he hovered above her. She felt as if her entire body was one massive nerve ending, so much that just the faint brush of Jack’s semi-quiescent penis against her thigh nearly sent her body flying off the bed.

Fully aware of her hypersensitive state, gently Jack lowered his body atop hers. “What were you saying earlier?” With great care, he let his weight come to rest atop Sabrina. “Were you speaking Russian?”

“Da,” she nodded. She smiled softly and cupped his face, expelling a shaky breath as she did so. Her gaze was nothing short of reverent as her fingers began to trace the outline of his mouth. “I said, ‘Yes. Yes. Oh, how I love you’.” Sabrina felt the shift in the mood before the change began to register in Jack’s body.

“Say it again.” Jack’s voice dropped to a low growl. His darkening gaze was a thing of untamed beauty.

“Da, da . O, kak ya lyublyu tebya.”

Sabrina’s words were barely above a whisper as Jack's lips brushed against hers. As he deepened the kiss, she closed her eyes against the supreme sensuality of the moment, savoring the taste of herself upon her lover’s tongue. Reluctantly, Sabrina tore her lips from his. Her strained cry of satisfaction issued forth as Jack buried himself to the hilt inside her. And her ardent declaration was murmured in his ear.

"Ya lyublyu tebya."