Maren cupped his balls and sucked him in with relish, saliva dripping from her lips the way she worked him. It didn’t take long. Adrian had one hand on each of our shoulders for balance as his orgasm seized his body with a series of jerks and twitches. She released him with a choked-up cry, swallowing the last of his come as her head dropped back. The movement in her hips grew urgent. Faster. I pressed deeper into the chair to keep up, my own moans mixing with hers as we shoved our hips together in search of the same release.
I could feel the heat rolling off her. My hands clutched at her thighs, holding her close. That low heat at the base of my spine let me know it wouldn’t be long now.
“That’s it,” Adrian murmured, cradling her head. “Stay with him.”
Her lids drooped closed. She was totally lost in it. In us.
Her hands braced on my shoulders, fingers digging just enough to make me ache, and I let myself go with the moment. Every breath she drew, every flicker of movement, sent sparks up my spine.
“Fuck… you feel incredible.” The last word was a grunt as I drove into her.
The tension kept building, the way she trembled just enough to drive me further. There was no thrusting now; our bodies were so close together it was impossible. We gave in to grinding it out like our lives depended on it. My dick so deep I felt her swollen clit rubbing against me.
“There you go…” Adrian’s encouragement stoked the flames. “There she is…”
I felt it coil, a heat that started in my stomach and flared through my limbs, and she was right there, riding me with a scorching hot need that left me gasping.
“God, Maren,” I groaned, hands in her hair now.
Her back arched, muscles trembling with the force of it. “Miles…” she murmured, lost, and it was enough to tip me over the edge. My mind went white, and I gave into it completely, letting myself ride it out with her, every movement raw and consuming.
Her pussy clenched, and Maren tripped over the edge, quaking and shuddering in my lap. A sensation so sweet, it pulled me along with her. The fire in my crotch splintered into a thousand explosions that shattered through me, and I held her in place until my dick went limp.
I held onto her even after that. Breathless and buzzing with the knowledge that even though it was over, I wanted more. I would always want more where she was concerned.
20
Maren
Polished floors reflected the warm glow of dozens of glittering chandeliers overhead, the tall windows stretching along the walls framing the harbor like a living painting. Around us, the air hummed with quiet conversation and the clink of silverware, a refined backdrop to the laughter and footsteps moving through the space. And me, of course, looking painfully out of place in it all.
“You trying to make me blush in front of the mayor?” Ethan’s eyes drifted over my curves. His usually piercing gaze was softer, but edged with veiled hunger.
I smoothed my dress, the bottle-green silk cool under my clammy and over-stressed touch. “You’re shameless.”
“What?” He was all innocence and boyish charm. As if I wasn’t intimately familiar with his other, more primal, side. “It’s not like the mayor can hear us.”
“Say ‘mayor’ one more time. I dare you.” He laughed, and I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a glare.
I spared a quick glance over his shoulder to check on the kids. Miles and Adrian had them occupied with bright red cranberry mocktails. For now, anyway. I could already tell by the look on Emma’s face that she was bored out of her mind.
“I told you,” Ethan said, “one glass of sparkling wine and you’ll feel a lot better about this. It’s just a lunch.”
I glared at him again. “And I told you. No alcohol while I’m working, and this is not just any lunch. We’re at the Boston Hotel, everyone here is a millionaire several times over. If I were to throw my shoe over there right now, it’ll hit the mayor. That’s how close he is.”
“Let the record show it was you who used the ‘m’ word this time,” he said with a smirk.
“Bite me.”
He leaned in close and my breathing stalled, tripping over itself. “Tempting, but there’s something to be said for workplace professionalism.”
“Exactly.” I didn’t mean to complain, but we were by ourselves and I needed to find a way through this overwhelming feeling. “This Thanksgiving luncheon is meant for high-profile corporates. People are going to wonder what the hell a nanny is doing traipsing around in a dress she can’t afford.”
The playfulness left his eyes as he fixed them on me. “As the event organizers, we get free spots on the guestlist to use as we please. You belong here, whatever your designation.”
My designation. I wasn’t sure where I landed on that one anymore. In fact, the longer I stayed in Back Bay, the less certain I became about a lot of things.
We moved along the edges of the crowd. The room buzzed with low conversations as guests mingled between tables gleaming with gold-rimmed china and tiny pumpkin centerpieces. Somewhere near the back, a jazz trio filled the space with soft holiday tunes, their music threading through the chatter. Through it all, the mouthwatering smell of roasted turkey and spiced cider reminded me there’d be an empty seat at Liv’s parent’s house tomorrow, for the first time since we became friends as freshmen in college.
