Silence fills the room, interrupted only by the crackling fire and our ragged breaths.
I lay there on top of her for a long moment, then I withdraw, disposing of the condom.
I lay down next to her once more, and gather her trembling body against my chest, wrapping us both in blankets.
Her heartbeat thunders against my ribs, syncing with mine.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her hair. “Always.”
She nuzzles into my throat. “That was... intense.”
A satisfied smirk curves my lips. “Just the beginning.”
My arms tighten.
Outside, the storm rages.
Inside, the world has narrowed to her breath on my skin, her scent in my lungs, her taste on my tongue, and her body pressed to mine.
Mine.
15
Sorrel
Iwake up wrapped in six-foot-two of solid muscle and expensive cashmere blankets. Apparently overnight Gregory decided that I’m his new favorite teddy bear, because his arm is draped across my waist, and his hand is splayed possessively over my bare stomach under the blankets.
His chest is pressed against my back.
And his breath is doing interesting things to the nape of my neck that feel very good despite the fact that we are naked together on the floor under those blankets.
And I desperately need to pee.
Wait.
Naked?
Oh god.
We had sex.
On the floor.
By the fireplace.
My eyes drift to the romance novel I tried to hide from him on Day One, sitting openly on the coffee table, and I want to die all over again, because last night we did things that would make that book’s love scenes look tame.
But do Ireallywant to die?
Hmm.
Maybe not.
As I continue to lay there quietly, in his arms, I find myself... actuallysnugglingcloser to him.
I should feel weird about what happened. Shouldn’t I? Conflicted at a minimum. This is Gregory Falk, after all. Mining billionaire extraordinaire and environmental villain.
But right now, with his thumb unconsciously stroking my hip bone and the fire crackling behind us, I mostly just feelsafe.
