Chapter Nineteen
The party was in full swing downstairs. They should be staying and availing themselves of all the skin and flesh they could handle, gorging themselves on every hedonistic delight.
Instead, Akira was climbing the stairs to the third floor, which housed her personal suite of rooms, with Jacob trailing behind her, the silence between them heavy with sensuality. Because he wanted her alone.
Pleasure was meant to be shared, but she couldn’t deny when he’d uttered those words her first reaction had been…yes. Absolutely. Please.
She shivered when his fingers curled around her hip, the touch steadying her. She was aware this action, taking him upstairs, meant she had succumbed entirely, her resistance and good sense crumbling in the face of short-term gratification.
Her impulsive nature wouldn’t allow her to do anything else. That voice in her brain was whispering words of false comfort, that she’d be okay, that this was just for one night, that she’d be able to work him out of her system by tomorrow.
That voice was a liar. Yet she clung to it like a monkey.
They entered her bedroom, and she turned on the lights, suddenly nervous. Observant as always, his sharp eyes missed nothing, taking in the sparse furnishings and decor. Her living space wasn’t fussy or opulent like the rest of the home, a conscious decision made to satisfy her various moods. Her bed was a well-made but functional king-sized four-poster, flanked by matching nightstands. Bookcases lined two of the walls, filled with her favorite titles, the ones she didn’t want to bother going downstairs to hunt when she was sleepy. The only indulgence was the silk pillows and sheets. She did like the kiss of the cool fabric when she was in bed.
This wasn’t something she’d share with him, but no other person had climbed into that bed with her. Not that she hadn’t invited lovers into her home. They’d remained downstairs. Where they belonged.
Jacob took it all in in a single glance, and his gaze came back to her. She expected him to say something about the room, but he had other things on his mind. He dropped his jacket and shirt on the floor, and his hands went to work on the fastenings of his hastily donned pants.
“I want a shower,” he said, his voice rough.
“Bathroom’s right over…here.” Her breath hitched when his pants hit the floor. She hadn’t had a chance, as of yet, to fully appreciate his cock. It was thick and large, rising out of a nest of dark brown curls, each vein making her eager to follow those trails with her mouth.
She wanted to devour him whole, worship him with her body.
His mouth curled, as if he could read her mind. “You need a shower too,” he crooned.
An uninhibited Jacob was a potent Jacob.Her body grew wet anew at his heavy-lidded gaze sweeping over her loosely tied dress. “You think I’m dirty?”
“I know you’re dirty. I want you in the shower so I can make you filthy.”
Don’t mind her. That was just her knees going weak.
He gestured for her to turn around. It only took a couple of tugs for the dress to fall to the floor. He held her elbow in an oddly protective gesture. “The shoes too.”
She obeyed, stepping out of her high heels.
His thumb caressed her palm as he led her to the bathroom, courteously allowing her to pass before he entered. Her bathroom was the largest in the house, but it suddenly felt too small when he came inside and closed the door behind him.
“Into the shower,” he directed softly.
Dumbly, she obeyed, shivering from the quiet command in his voice. She had known he would be wonderful at growling out orders. Her fantasies hadn’t been able to comprehend how good he would be.
He stepped in behind her and turned both showerheads on. He winced at the initial coldness of the water, but didn’t move away. Only a few frigid droplets landed on her skin. He was shielding her with his body.
Too good for you.
The night. That was all she wanted.
It’s all you need,came that sly voice in her head. Was this what addicts heard when they were staring at temptation?
Jacob didn’t have to stretch far to adjust the showerheads, and hot water hit her front and her back. He grabbed the bar of soap from the shelf and brought it to his nose. “Is this what makes you smell so good?”
“Maybe. I don’t know what I smell like.”
“It’s close, but…” A frown crossed his face, and he lathered up the soap, running his hands over her breasts and belly and back. As the water sluiced the suds off, he leaned down and buried his nose in her neck, not budging when she gave an uncharacteristic giggle and shoved at him.
He inhaled deeply before straightening, his hands tracing a lazy pattern over her stomach. “Ah. Yeah, that’s it. It’s the soap and…you.”
