She groaned, pressing a hand to her face. “Oh my god.”
“You were blushing so hard I thought you were gonna combust.” I leaned in, my mouth brushing her ear. “What was it about that scene? The hayloft? The hand on the throat? The way he didn’t stop until she begged?”
“Oliver.” Her voice cracked slightly, half warning, half plea.
I turned her face toward mine gently. “Tell me.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, pupils blown wide. “It was the trust,” she whispered. “It’s the fact she trusted him enough to let him take over. That’s…that’s my kink.”
I nodded slowly, letting that settle between us. “Can you trust me, Sloane?”
I didn’t kiss her yet. I hovered there, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath, the pulse thrumming in her neck. My thumb brushed under the band of her bikini, barely grazing the skin beneath her breast. She shivered. I lowered my head and licked her neck, doing what I’d longed to do the last ten minutes.
She arched into me, letting out a sexy moan as I kissed up her neck, over her jaw, and right next to her mouth. “Waiting on ananswer, honey,” I said, then kissed her skin again. Until I heard her answer, I wouldn’t go further. I needed that assurance.
“Y-yes, Oliver. I trust you.”
“Mm, I like that answer, baby.” I chuckled against her cheek, then my mouth hovered over hers for one long second—testing, asking, waiting. And then she surged forward, lips brushing mine with a hunger that made my blood catch fire.
I kissed her like I’d wanted to every second since that first night on her couch. No pretense, no games. Just slow pressure, the drag of lips, the tease of tongue. Her hands found my chest, my shoulders, then slid around my neck as she pulled me in harder.
The kiss deepened, messier now. My hand slipped up her back, under her suit, tracing the warm slope of her spine. She moaned against my mouth, sliding on top of me as she rocked against my extremely hard cock. “Damn, Oliver, you’re huge.”
“All you, baby.” I sucked her skin, grinding into her when a bell jingled in the distance.
“Shit,” Sloane breathed, twisting in my arms, eyes wide and panicked. “Oliver, we can’t?—"
I held still for half a beat, listening. “Shh, hold on.”
Voices. Distant. A door slamming somewhere down the hall. Definitely not someone coming for us but enough of a reminder that we were half-naked, entangled in a hotel hot tub.
Sloane looked at me, cheeks flushed, hair damp around her face. Her lips were swollen from kissing, and her eyes were wild in the best fucking way.
“My room’s right there,” she whispered, jerking her head toward the corner unit off the patio. “We can go through the sliding glass door.”
That was all I needed.
I grabbed her hand, and we moved fast—half tiptoe, half scramble over the wet stone. I kept one hand on her back, likeI could shield her from the world and also still feel her skin. I quickly grabbed our clothes. The door slid open, and we slipped inside, muffling laughter like teenagers about to be caught.
The room was dark and cool, the glow from the bathroom night-light casting soft gold across the floor.
The second the door clicked shut behind us, I lost it.
I reached for her again, backing her into the desk without finesse. She hit it with a soft grunt and a laugh, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted her ass up and set her down on top of it. God, she was so wet and smooth and hot. Her legs fell open, and I stepped between them, not wanting any distance between us.
I kissed her like I’d been holding back for weeks.
She pulled my hair, her mouth dragging over mine like she needed the taste of me again. I braced one hand on the desk beside her, the other curled tight around her waist as her hips rolled toward mine like she couldn’t help it.
“God, Oliver,” she rasped, her voice all throaty and sexy.
I couldn’t get enough of her.
Every inch of her was heat and urgency and soft, maddening pressure. My hands slid up under her suit, palms skimming over bare skin. I traced her sides, thumbs brushing the swell of her ribs before I finally cupped her ass again—full, warm, fucking perfect. She arched into me like she’d been waiting for me to touch her like this.
“Sloane,” I breathed, dropping my forehead to hers. “I’m so goddamn gone for you.”
She bit her lip—slow and deliberate like she knew exactly what it did to me. I kissed her again, deeper this time, hungrier. She met me with equal force, her tongue sliding over mine as she moaned low in her throat. My cock throbbed against her center, only the thin barrier of my boxers between us, and when she rolled her hips again, I nearly lost it.
