He covers me with the robe again, then slides in behind me, wrapping himself around my back. His hand curls possessively over my hip.
His mouth is at my ear, breath warm and ragged. “That’s what happens to good girls.”
I hum, smiling, eyelids heavy. “I’ll have to be good more often.”
“You’re a menace.”
“I know.”
He kisses my neck again, slower this time. Softer. His cock presses against my ass—still half-hard, still hungry—but his grip stays gentle.
We lie there, sweat drying, heartbeats slowing, the city twinkling around us.
And for the first time in days. I feel like we’ve come home to each other.
I’m sore, used. Satisfied.
Xavier doesn’t just own my body tonight.
He owns me. A reckless part of me wants this forever.
With a slow smile, I reach for his cock, already wondering what else I can get away with.
Chapter Twenty-One
Xavier
I push open the glass doors to my suite, still sweat slick from my workout, the cotton of my shirt clinging to my back. Then I freeze.
Celeste is here.
And she’s seated directly across the desk from Seraphina, a cup of coffee in hand, legs elegantly crossed, wearing the kind of bored expression that makes CEOs sweat blood.
What the actual fuck?
Seraphina looks up and smiles. She’s calm. Poised. Not a hair out of place. As if this ambush isn’t happening.
I narrow my eyes, looking between the two of them. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing.” My lovely assistant, my lover, is serene. “Celeste stopped by to see you. I explained you’d be back soon, and she opted to wait.”
The hell she did.
She wanted to check out Seraphina for herself. Celeste Fallon doesn’t have a patient bone in her body. She’s all about strategy and calculation, and she stopped by to see what the hell is going on with me.
Celeste smiles, the kind of smile that should come with a nondisclosure agreement. “You look like hell, Xavier. Haven’t been sleeping, hmm?”
My retort is not polite, and it’s everything I can do to bite it back. “I need a shower.”
“And I’m not waiting that long.”
“Good. Seraphina will show you out.”
Seraphina blinks as Celeste calmly sets down her cup, rises, straightens the cuff of her blazer, and follows me into my office as if she has every right to be there.
“You weren’t invited.”
“Good thing I wasn’t waiting for an invitation, then, isn’t it?”
