God, she's beautiful like this, caught off guard. So vulnerable, so innocent, so fucking hot. It tugs at something deep in me, making my pulse thud heavier.
"Well, that was... awkward," she murmurs, her voice breathy, a soft laugh escaping as her trembling fingers touch her swollen mouth.
I keep my hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath. "No, it’s not awkward. I want the world to know you’re mine."
Her eyes widen with shock. “You do?” she whispers.
“Yeah, I do,” I confirm, stepping back but not letting go entirely, my palm sliding to the small of her back as I guide her toward the dining room.
The jazz music from the main room grows louder with each step, and I feel like I'm a teenager again, caught making out in the shadows, and wanting the whole world to know I’ve scored. Not just scored, scored big. I got the girl all the other boys want.
We approach the booth, and Jason is alone, scrolling through his phone. Carolyn is quiet beside me, her steps hesitating, and I wonder if she's feeling it too, the flush from being interrupted. Her hand brushes mine by accident, and it sends a spark up my arm that makes me want to take her home and finish what we started.
Jason glances up from his phone as we slide into the booth, and I signal the waiter for the check. A knowing grin spreads on his face, but he says nothing, just sips his bourbon. Sarah slides back in a minute later, winking our way.
"Everything good?" she asks, innocent but teasing.
Carolyn nods, her cheeks still pink, as she reaches for her water glass. She takes a sip, avoiding my eyes.
The check comes, and I sign it. We say our goodbyes, and Jason claps my shoulder. "See you Monday."
The night air is waiting outside.
As we head home, city lights streak past on the FDR. The East River is dark and restless to our right. I grip the wheel tighter, nerves twisting in my gut.
The thought of her in my bed makes my throat dry with excitement. My glance flicks to her in the passenger seat, her profile soft in the dashboard glow, fingers drumming lightly on her knee.
God, I want her—want to peel that dress off, slowly, feel her skin under my hands, hear her gasp my name.
"You’re very quiet," I say finally, voice low, reaching over to rest my hand on her thigh. Her muscle tenses at my touch. I run my hand up her silky inner thigh, and a small shiver runs through her. I feel her reaction in my bones, her breath catching just enough to send a spark up my arm.
"Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Bessant. I’ve got plans for you, and I need you to be in one piece for them," she murmurs, covering my hand with hers, lacing our fingers. The touch is simple but the words are electric.
The estate's gates loom ahead. The silence stretches, loaded—neither of us saying what we're thinking. Inside, the house is dark and still, and the foyer chandelier is dimmed and in its night setting. The sound of the ocean's crash is faint. We move to the base of the stairs and pause. Taking charge, my arm slips around her waist, and her hip brushes mine.
We head upstairs, my heart thudding steadily. At the landing, she glances toward her door, then back at me.
"Do you... Do you want to take a shower together?" I ask, my thumb tracing circles on her lower back through the silk.
"A shower? Together?" she echoes, voice a mix of surprise and something vulnerable.
I nod, holding her gaze.
She smiles slowly. "Yeah. I do, actually."
We veer toward her room. The space feels intimate and unfamiliar all at once, with her perfumes on the dresser. The door clicks shut behind us, sealing us in. I turn to her, hands on her shoulders. She meets my eyes, a sexy smile tugging at herlips, but her fingers fumble at the halter tie behind her neck, awkward in the quiet, like we're teenagers again.
"Here, let me," I murmur, stepping closer, my fingers brushing hers as I undo the halter knot, the silk whispering as it loosens.
She lets out a shaky breath as the dress slips down and pools at her feet in a red puddle, leaving her in the sexiest pair of black lace panties I’ve ever seen in my life. Her skin glows pale in the low light, nipples peaking from the chill of the air-conditioning. She shifts, self-conscious, eyes darting away. I get on my knees and smell her mound. Her scent drives me wild, and I am helpless to stop myself. I kiss her lace-covered sex. Pulling the crotch of her panties to one side, I slip my tongue into her soaking wet slit.
“Oh, Carolyn…” I sigh. No more waiting. I pull the scrap of lace down and throw one of her legs over my shoulder. Her hands land on my shoulder as her glistening pussy opens up in front of my face. Heat rushes to my groin. It’s a call I cannot refuse. I lean forward and suck the pink fruit. I suck her until she shudders uncontrollably and comes in my mouth. Her juices run down my face and chin and wet my shirt.
Never taking my eyes off her, I stand and strip, jacket shrugged off and tossed to a chair, shirt buttons popping open one by one—quickly, but my hands aren't all that steady. The air is thick with charged desire. Pants next, sliding down with my boxers, leaving me hard and exposed, aching already.
She steps forward then, her hands landing on my chest lightly, fingers trailing down my abs in exploratory strokes, like she's relearning me. A small gasp escapes her when she brushes lower, feeling my hardness twitch under her touch, and I pull her close, our bodies aligning—before settling into that perfect fit.
"Shall we?" I ask, my lips brushing her ear.
