My fingers find her clit, swollen and begging, circling slowly as she arches against me, her ass grinding back against my hard length. "Feel how ready you are," I growl in her ear, slipping a finger inside her tight heat, feeling her walls clench around me. "But we're just getting started."
She arches further, her slick walls fluttering around my invading finger, a soft whine escaping her lips as I add a second, stretching her gently, my thumb pressing firm circles over her clit. The water sloshes with her movements, warm waves lapping at our skin, her nipples breaking the surface like pink pearls. I nuzzle her neck, tasting the salt of her skin mixed with the floral steam, my cock nestled hard against the cleft of her ass, pulsing with every grind she gives.
"God, Graham," she breathes, her hand reaching back to grip my thigh, nails digging in as her hips rock instinctively. I curl my fingers inside her, stroking that ridged spot that makes her gasp, her body tensing like a bowstring. She's close already. I can feel it in the way her pussy clamps down, greedy and wet.
"Not yet," I murmur, slowing my pace to a torturous tease, withdrawing just enough to make her whimper in protest. I reach for the champagne flute on the tub's edge, the glass cool against my palm, and bring it to her lips. "Sip this. Let it fizz on your tongue."
She turns her head slightly, eyes hooded and dark, and takes a slow pull, bubbles dancing over her lower lip. Some spills, trickling down her chin to her chest, and I follow the path with my mouth, lapping it up, the crisp, tart effervescence bursting on my tongue as I suckle her breast. She giggles then – a light, breathless sound that bubbles up unexpectedly, her body shaking with it against mine. "That tickles," she says, voice husky, but her laughter fades into a moan as I nip her nipple, rolling it between my teeth.
"Good," I growl, handing her the glass fully so I can use both hands – one returning to her core, fingers plunging deeper, the other tracing up to pinch her other breast. The giggles return in spurts, mingled with gasps, as I work her higher, the water turning turbulent with her writhing. Her free hand splashes, sending droplets flying, and she nearly drops the flute, but I steady it, guiding another sip to her mouth. "Drink while I make you come."
Her pussy tightens at my words, and I thrust my fingers faster, palm grinding against her clit. She shudders, champagne sloshing over the rim as her back bows, a cry ripping from her throat. Her inner muscles spasm around me, wave after wave, her juices mixing with the bathwater, her giggles dissolving into sobs of pleasure. I hold her through it, kissing her shoulder, feeling her pulse race under my lips.
As she comes down, panting, I ease my fingers out, trailing them up her belly, leaving a slick path. "That's one," I whisper, my voice thick with need, cock aching to bury inside her. She twists in my arms, water cascading off her curves, and captures my mouth in a kiss that's all tongue and champagne tang, her hand dipping below the surface to wrap around my shaft. Her fingers stroke firmly, thumb swirling over the head, pre-cum slicking her grip in the warm water.
I groan, hips bucking into her touch, but I pull back, standing and lifting her with me in one fluid motion, water sheeting off our bodies like liquid silk. The air chills our skin, raising goosebumps, but the heat between us burns hotter. I wrap her in a plush robe from the heated rack – Egyptian cotton, monogrammed with the resort's crest – before scooping her up, carrying her to the king bed. The linens are crisp and cool under us as I lay her down, the fire's glow painting her in golden hues.
She sheds the robe, spreading her legs invitingly, her folds glistening, clit still swollen from her release. I grab the champagne bottle from the trolley and drizzle a thin stream over her breasts, watching it pool in her navel. "Taste me," she murmurs, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I oblige, lowering my head to lick the bubbly trail from her skin, sucking an oyster from the platter and feeding it to her with my fingers, her tongue swirling around them suggestively. She laughs again, the sound turning throaty as I position myself between her thighs, my cock nudging her entrance, the head slipping through her wetness.
"Slow," she echoes my earlier command, but her hips lift, urging me in. I push forward inch by inch, her tight heat enveloping me, walls still quivering from her first orgasm. She's exquisite – velvet and fire – stretching around my thickness until I'm seated deep, our bodies locked. I pause, savoring the fullness, then begin to move, long, deliberate thrusts that drag along every nerve.
She wraps her legs around my waist, nails raking my back, and I angle to hit that spot again, grinding my pelvis against her clit with each drive. Her breaths come in hitches, building to moans, and I reach for a strawberry, dipping it in caviar and crème, pressing it to her lips mid-thrust. She bites down, juice bursting, and giggles through the mouthful, the vibration humming through her body to where we're joined.
"Fuck, Willow," I rasp, pace quickening as her laughter fades to pleas. I hook her leg over my shoulder, deepening the angle, pounding harder now. She comes again in a sudden and fierce way, her pussy milking my cock in rhythmic pulses, back arching as she cries out, fingers twisting in the sheets.
I don't stop, flipping her onto her hands and knees, entering from behind in one swift plunge. Her ass presses back against me, cheeks flushed, and I spank lightly, the smack echoing with her surprised giggle. Champagne forgotten on the nightstand, I reach around to rub her clit, thrusts relentless, feeling her build once more. Sweat slicks our skin, the room filled with the wet slap of flesh and her mounting whimpers.
"Come with me this time," she gasps, pushing back to meet me, her walls fluttering anew.
I grip her hips, driving deep, the pressure coiling tight in my balls. She shatters first – her third orgasm ripping through her, body convulsing, a gush of wetness coating my cock. It's too much. I follow with a guttural roar, spilling inside her in hot spurts, vision blurring as pleasure crashes over me.
We collapse together, tangled and breathless, her giggles bubbling up again as I nuzzle her neck. "Three times," she murmurs, turning to kiss me lazily, tasting of champagne and salt. "You're insatiable."
"Only for you," I reply, pulling her close, the fire crackling softly as snow continues to fall outside.
Chapter 13
Willow
I’m lying here naked and never more satisfied in my life. I’m not worried about work, deadlines, Christmas, Hearthstone Lodge … or anything. I type a message to Avery.
Spending day (and possibly evening) with Graham. Take care of things and make good executive decisions. I’m off-grid.
I laugh as I hit send and Graham stares at me. “What are you up to now?” he asks in a low voice, laced with that amused curiosity that makes my skin tingle even now. It’s probably only been an hour since he left me quivering. He's propped up on one elbow beside me, the sheets tangled low around his hips, exposing the hard ridges of his abs and the trail of dark hair leading down to where his cock rests heavy against his thigh, still half-hard from our earlier frenzy. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over his skin, and outside, thesnow keeps falling in thick, silent curtains, cocooning us in this luxurious bubble.
I set my phone on the nightstand and roll toward him, my breasts brushing his chest as I trace a finger along the curve of his bicep. "Just telling my assistant I'm playing hooky. For once, Hope Peak can manage without its town manager breathing down everyone's neck."
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me where our bodies touch, and captures my hand, bringing it to his lips to nip at my knuckles. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet." His eyes darken, pupils flaring as he shifts closer, his free hand sliding over my hip, fingers splaying possessively across the swell of my ass. Heat pools low in my belly again, a slow, insistent throb that has me pressing my thighs together.
We linger like that, limbs entwined, his breath warm against my forehead as he murmurs about nothing and everything – the way the lodge's faded mural stirred something in him, how he's excited about the revisions to keep its soul intact for the community. His words wrap around me like the plush robe I discarded earlier, soothing the last edges of doubt I'd carried in. I nestle into the crook of his arm, my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart while my fingers explore the contours of his ribs.
Hunger gnaws at me eventually – not just for him, but for actual sustenance after the oysters and strawberries that barely scratched the surface. My stomach growls, and he laughs again, that deep, resonant sound that sends sparks skittering down my spine. "Room service?" he suggests, already reaching for the phone without waiting for an answer. His voice turns commanding as he speaks into the receiver, ordering with effortless authority: a seared filet mignon with truffle butter, lobster ravioli in a cream sauce, roasted asparagus drizzled in aged balsamic, and a bottle of full-bodied Cabernet to wash itdown. No skimping – everything top-shelf, as if money is just another amenity in this suite.
Graham relieves himself to the bathroom and once he’s finished, I do the same. Looking in the mirror, I see a woman who’s never been more herself than today. Truly, he brings something out in me that has been lost … perhaps never found until now.
I freshen up and make my way back to the bedroom. While we wait, he pulls me on top of him, my legs straddling his waist, the sheet slipping away to leave us skin to skin. His hands roam lazily up my back, thumbs circling the dimples at my spine, and I lean down to kiss him, slow and deep, tasting the lingering fizz of champagne on his tongue. He hardens beneath me, his cock thickening against my slick folds, and I rock gently, drawing a guttural groan from his throat. "Willow," he breathes, gripping my hips to still me, though his eyes burn with the same fire igniting in my core.
