Chapter 24
16 Months Ago
I lie back in the bed, practically boneless, my entire body humming with a level of satisfaction I didn’t even know was possible. Every synapse, every nerve is lit on fire and fried. I can’t catch my breath, still lost in the aftermath of what just happened. I can’t remember the last time I felt so utterly spent, and I do mean that in the ridden hard and put away wet kind of way. So completely satiated. My mind is still foggy, but from the fog, thoughts start to form. Is this the moment that I should quietly gather my things and slip out? Do I go ahead and leave this as a one-night stand, back in his hotel room, where it’s supposed to stay?
But before I even figure out when the right moment to bolt is, Oren gets back in bed from cleaning up and reaches over, adjusting the pillows behind us like we’re staying a while. He pulls me into his chest, his voice low and easy as he says, “We need some rest for the next round.”
I blink, trying to wrap my mind around what he just said. “Next round?” I squeak out, barely able to believe it. There is no way I have it in me to do that again anytime soon. I’m done, finished, completely wrecked. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”
But Oren just chuckles softly, his arms tightening around me as he presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “Not kidding,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath warm.
I let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “There’s no way,” I mutter.
His hand slides down my waist, resting just on the curve of my hip, and I shiver despite how exhausted I feel. “I think I’m going to leave this right here for a while,” Oren says as he presses his semi-hard dick into my whimpering pussy. Just leaving it there…an elite form of horny torture.
“Now get some sleep. You’ll need it.” He pulls me closer to him, seating himself fully inside of me.
I gasp, my muscles wanting but failing to protest, “How am I supposed to sleep now?” But even as I say it, a disbelieving excitement starts to unfurl inside me. The feeling of him so fully inside me, warming me to the core, literally.
Oren just hums in response, and I start to relax against him, wondering how the hell I ended up here—completely undone, tangled up in him, and still not quite sure how to feel about it.
I wake up before the sun, the beginning of soft morning light barely creeping through, casting a dim glow across the room. It takes me a second to realize where I am, who I’m with, and what I’m feeling. What am I feeling? And then it hits me—Oren is still there, still inside of me, just as he was when we fell asleep. My heart skips a beat as something raw, something feral, rushes through me. I feel this deep, undeniable need building in my chest, traveling to my core, a lustful hunger I hadn’t realized could return so quickly.
My body tightens around him, the sensation igniting every nerve, needing to feel him again. I bite my lip, the desire flooding me, overtaking the grogginess of sleep. I shift ever so slightly, my body already responding as I let out a soft gasp. The urge too strong to ignore, the need to wake him, to feel every inch of him again, consumes me.
I press my body back into him, feeling his already hard cock deep inside of me. He stirs behind me, his eyes fluttering open. I look over behind my shoulder, and for a second, we just look at each other.
“Morning,” his voice is thick with sleep, but there’s nothing but lust in his eyes.
“Morning,” I whisper back, barely able to manage the word as my need for him grows.
I lean back, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that starts hungrily and never slows down. I grip the back of his head behind me, his hand slides down my front, resting between my thighs, and he pulls me closer as the fire inside me ignites. “Rachel…” he breathes, his voice needy. The sound of my name on his lips is my undoing.
I gasp softly, my body instinctively responding, arching into him. He moves inside me, slow at first but with a growing intensity akin to desperate desire. There’s a moment where we just stare at each other until he kisses me senselessly, harder, more urgently.
I whip away from his kiss as he takes my sensitive nipples between his fingers, pulling at them. The sensation of him thrusting into me feels so good. I run my hand down my body, craving the need to feel my release. I rub my fingers over my clit, feeling Oren’s movements below where my fingers move. I make a breathless sound that quickly turns into a shuddering moan as his hand releases my nipple and slides lower. He covers my hand with his as he presses our joined hands hard into my most sensitive spot.
“Oren” I whisper, as one of his hands still pulls and pinches my nipple while the other moves in quick circles above mine, making me squirm.
He kisses against the side of my neck as he touches me, his touch causing me to buck against him. His movements grow more desperate, and my moans turn to full-on screams as I bounce my body back into his to meet every punishing thrust, his fingers never leaving mine or reducing their pressure on my clit. We move together, the world outside fading away as we both work toward a mutual free fall as he pulls a powerful orgasm from my body while filling me completely. Spent but satisfied, we both immediately drift off into a blissful sleep, our bodies still intertwined.
The warmth of the late morning light on my face wakes me from a peaceful sleep, and a rush of emotions hits me—satisfaction, confusion, and a deep, rising panic. Last night was reckless. I can’t believe I had sex with Oren Samuels. I was in such a sex trance. The darkness of night camouflaged how incredibly stupid I was.
I glance over at Oren, his arm draped casually across the pillow, his breathing steady and deep. He looks so peaceful, completely unaware of what is raging inside me. I want to scream at myself for being so irresponsible, for letting my guard down. I’m always careful, always in control, and last night I let it all slip away.
The bed creaks slightly as I try to slip free. I freeze, watching as Oren stirs for a moment but doesn’t wake. I let out a slow, shaky breath, easing myself to the edge of the bed, my feet finding the cold floor beneath me. The room is so quiet, save for the sound of his steady breathing, but my mind is a chaotic mess of worry and regret.
I tiptoe around the room, gathering my scattered clothes, my hands shaking as I pull on each piece. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—the tousled hair, the flushed cheeks, the slightly swollen lips. I look different…vulnerable. Too vulnerable. I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of it and focus on getting out of here before he wakes up.
Last night was a break from my routine, a moment of spontaneity, nothing more. I will not get caught up in what-ifs. That’s not who I am. I’ve worked too hard to build the life I have, to be the professional who doesn’t mix business with pleasure, who doesn’t get involved with players. And yet,here I am. Never again will I put myself in this situation with anyone, especially Oren Samuels. I spot a small notepad on the nightstand, hotel stationery with the logo embossed in gold. I pick up the pen and scribble a quick note, my handwriting a little more rushed than I’d like:
“ Thanks for a great night. No regrets. - R. ”
I leave it there, propped up against the lamp where he’ll see it. I hesitate for just a second, wondering what he’ll think when he reads the note. But I shake the thought away. It doesn’t matter. This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s real life, and in real life, things are rarely neat and tidy.