Deep grunts filled the room. The wet sounds of their fucking mingled with the sounds of the ocean outside the windows. She never wanted to leave this space, these feelings, these sensations.
“There it is,” he grunted. “I can feel it right before you come. You fucking quake around my dick. It’s heaven.” He leaned down and bit the side of her neck. “So tight I can barely move.” Grabbing the headboard above her, he thrust into her over and over, the friction unbelievable.
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t shout, couldn’t breathe. When he reached between them to pinch her clit, her eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in a silent scream as the most intense orgasm she’d ever known rocketed through her.
In the distance somewhere, she heard him curse, his hips pistoling in the rapid-fire way she knew would lead to his release sooner rather than later, and this time she knew exactly where she wanted him.
“Mouth,” she begged. “Need to taste you in my mouth.” If he wouldn’t fill her up, she wanted him to come down her throat. “Now. Please.”
With a shout, he pulled out of her and brought his hips to her face, his length slick from having been inside her. With her climax still shuddering through her, she took him in her hand and guided him to her lips.
The raw groan that rumbled out of him filled her with satisfaction. Her release coated her tongue as she licked and swallowed, sucking on him until she heard him grunt. “Here it comes, Vanessa. Take it all.” He slapped a hand against the wall above her head. “Fuck yes.”
She gagged at the first rush of liquid, before relaxing herjaw, letting his release pour straight inside her, his tip hitting the back of her throat as she drained him.
“Such a good fucking girl.” He fucked her mouth with fervor, and she drank him down greedily. “I don’t deserve you.”
When he finished, he shifted back, his hand still on the headboard for support, breathing hard. She fell back against the mattress in exhaustion. Her body and mind utterly sated. The kiss he dropped on her forehead was featherlight, the praise he murmured soft and reassuring. She let her eyes drift shut to the sound.
Moments later, when a warm, wet cloth rubbed against her belly, her eyes shot open.
“Shhh,” Jordan hushed. “Let me take care of you now.”
He traced the cloth down her lower abdomen and between her legs. He cleaned her carefully, reverently, like no one had ever done before. Her exhaustion left her no choice but to let him. When he was done, he took another towel and dried her. Then he tucked her under the covers and crawled in behind her.
Vanessa snuggled her back against his chest, happy to be the little spoon. In his strong, comforting embrace, she faded into a deep, satisfied sleep.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Day two of waking up at the cottage was similar to day one. She was alone, her body fully sated and deliciously sore, no anxiety in the pit of her stomach, no phone charging on her nightstand, and ocean waves crashing outside the window. It wasn’t New York or Vancouver, but if she wasn’t careful, she was going to become way too comfortable here.
Nigel had dozed in the little nest she set up for him at the foot of the bed, but by morning he was always up with Jordan, eagerly hopping after him for breakfast while she slept in.
Sitting up, she let the comforter pool at her waist, enjoying the cool air on her bare chest. Honestly, she didn’t mind waking up alone, maybe because it wasn’t an empty feeling. It was more like a feeling of comfort, knowing Jordan was already up and making coffee, which she could smell down the hall.
She’d have to talk to him today about departure plans. The show in New York was in five days, and she was alreadyso far out of her routine for a show like this. She really should’ve been more anxious.
Normally she’d be there by now, taking part in all the fittings and rehearsals. Up until she’d been whisked away to the beach house, she’d been in regular contact with her agent and Cassidy. Both had been more than accommodating, but she had to be there at least the day before the show to have a last fitting.
Jordan was worried about the show. He’d made that obvious. If he’d pressed harder, she knew he could’ve made her cancel. Whatever people thought and said about her, she wasn’t stupid. She knew the seriousness of the situation.
The shudder that ran through her was completely involuntary, but whenever she thought of how someone had been in her closet, her skin crawled. They could’ve attacked her.
Maybe a miracle would happen, and they’d catch the creep before her show. She was so ready to get on with her life and never again have some asshole with a sick obsession holding her back. After years of men doing exactly that, it was time to take back control.
The show at The Link had been a step in the right direction. But the Cassidy Moore show in New York would be a game changer. So, she needed to find a way to convince Jordan to let her leave as soon as possible.
She also needed her phone back, which she partially dreaded. The freedom of not having it was starting to grow on her.
There was a soft knock on the door before it was pushed open. Her god of thunder emerged holding a tray.
“What’s this?” She wiggled back up onto the bed until she rested against the headboard. “Breakfast in bed? It’s not my birthday.”
He looked very out of character carrying a breakfast tray.
The tray he held was loaded with a glass of orange juice, a cup of coffee, a bowl of fruit with yogurt, and a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Way more food than she could eat, but easily the most adorable thing she’d ever seen him do, so she wasn’t leaving this bed until she’d eaten every bite.
That’s when she noticed the toast cut into heart shapes. “What?—”
