I lock the door with a touch. The panel turns red.
Samantha stands in the middle of the carpet, barefoot now—she slipped her heels off at the threshold—watching me with wide, uncertain eyes.
I step behind her. My hands settle on her hips, steadying. “Watch the storm,” I murmur against her ear. “While I take you apart.”
I start with the buttons of her cream blouse. One by one, slow enough that she feels every pop. Fabric parts. I slide it off her shoulders and let it drop. Her bra is simple ivory lace. I unhook it with two fingers and watch it fall.
She shivers, but the room is warm.
My palms glide down her sides, thumbs brushing the swell of her breasts, then lower. I find the zipper of her slacks, ease it down, and push the fabric past her hips until it pools at her feet. Her panties come last.
I stay fully dressed behind her. The contrast makes her breath catch.
I hold her naked against me, mouth at her throat, one arm locked across her ribs. She’s already breathing hard, but I wait. When her hips finally jerk forward—just once, desperate—I slide my hand straight down the front of her body and push two fingers inside her in one smooth thrust.
“Look at yourself,” I whisper.
Her reflection stares back—lips parted, my hand working between her legs while snow lashes the mountain outside. She watches herself come undone, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
Her head falls back against my shoulder. A broken moan tears out of her as she comes, thighs clamping around my hand, pulsing hard around my fingers. I hold her through every shudder, kissing the tears that slip from the corners of her eyes.
I lift her shaking body and flip her in one motion so she’s face down, hips draped over the edge of the wide ottoman, knees on the thick carpet, ass in the air.
She makes a startled sound that turns into a moan when I spread her open with both hands. I lean in and drag my tongue from her clit all the way up, until I’m circling her tight little hole.
She jolts like I’ve electrocuted her. “Grant?—”
I do it again, harder, wetter, pressing the flat of my tongue against her, licking in deliberate circles until she’s pushing back against my face, thighs trembling, dripping down her legs. I keep one hand splayed across her lower back to hold her still while I fuck her ass with my tongue until she’s making broken, desperate noises I’ve never heard from her before.
Only when she’s shaking so hard she can’t hold the position do I pull back.
I stand, unzip, and fist my cock once, twice, smearing her wetness over the head. “Turn around. On your knees.”
She scrambles to obey, dropping to the carpet in front of me, mouth already open.
I feed myself between her lips in one smooth stroke, hitting the back of her throat. She gags, eyes watering, but doesn’t pull away.
I thread fingers through her hair, not guiding, just holding, and fuck her mouth in long, controlled thrusts. Every time I bottom out she moans around me, the vibration shooting straight to my spine.
When I feel the edge creeping too close I pull out, fist myself hard and fast, and come in thick ropes across her tongue, herlips, her cheeks, marking her while she stares up at me, dazed and perfect. I stay there, braced above her, watching my come paint her skin while the storm rages outside and the room holds us in perfect, breathless silence.
When I can move again, I strip off my ruined shirt and use it to clean her gently—every streak, every drop—kissing the places I wipe until she’s trembling for an entirely different reason.
Then I lie down beside her on the wide ottoman, pull her into my chest, and drape my jacket over her bare shoulders.
“You’re going to get that call,” she murmurs. “And we’re both a mess.”
“I don’t care.”
18
KAI
I findSamantha in the library, hunched over her laptop with that intense focus she gets when she’s working.
She’s been at it for hours. I know because I’ve walked past three times, and she hasn’t moved except to refill her coffee mug.
“You’re going to burn out,” I say from the doorway.
