Chapter 10
The man at the front desk was all sharp lines and quiet intensity. He signed the register with a flourish—Julian Carter—but the name didn’t match the reservation. I knew because I’d been assigned as his “personal host” for the weekend. Maddie had pulled me aside with a smirk. “Luxury travel oversight board,” she’d murmured. “Here to make sure we’re up to code. Or down to it.”
Julian was handsome in a way that made my pulse jump—tall, with dark hair just starting to silver at the temples, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes the color of storm clouds. His suit was expensive but not flashy, the kind of thing that whispered power rather than shouted money. The dining room was elegant, the candlelight flickering across the white tablecloths, the clink of silverware a soft murmur. Other guests chatted and laughed, but Julian was watching everything with the kind of focus that made the back of my neck prickle.
“You’ve been here, what, a month?” he asked, his voice smooth, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.
“Six weeks,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Long enough to know the regulars.”
“And the… irregulars?”
I laughed, the sound bright and practiced. “At Eclipse Mountain, every guest is treated like royalty.”
His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Even the ones who don’t pay extra?”
I met his gaze, my fingers tracing the silver charm at my throat. “Especially them.”
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I’ve heard rumors. About… exclusive services.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my smile steady. “We aim to please.”
“And the staff? Do they… participate?”
I touched my necklace deliberately, the metal warm against my skin. “We’re all very dedicated to guest satisfaction.”
The tension between us was a living thing, coiling tighter with every passing second. He was a man who thought he was in control. I was a woman who knew better.
The walk to his suite was a study in restraint. The corridors were quiet, the plush carpet muffling our footsteps. His hand hovered at the small of my back, not quite touching, but the heat of it was a brand against my skin. I could feel his eyes on me, his breath warm against my neck as we stopped at his door. The keycard slid into the lock with a soft click, the sound loud in the quiet hallway.
His suite was all dark wood and leather, the kind of place that smelled like money and old books. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the plush rug. Julian loosened his tie, his movements precise, his eyes never leaving me.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said, his voice low.
I stepped closer, my white puffer jacket still on, my bright pink cropped sports bra a stark contrast against my skin. “And what did you expect?”
“Someone… less observant.”
I smiled, my fingers finding the zipper of my jacket. “You came here to find something,” I murmured, my voice a low purr. “Let me show you what you’re really looking for.”
I shed the jacket, letting it pool at my feet. The pink bra exposed my toned stomach, the silver necklace glinting against my skin. His eyes darkened, his breath catching in his throat. He knew what the necklace meant. He just didn’t know he was about to become part of the tradition.
“Tessa, we shouldn’t—” he started, but his voice was weak, his body already betraying him. His cock was hard, pressing against the fabric of his slacks, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
I didn’t let him finish. I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands finding his belt, my fingers working the buckle with practiced ease. The leather slid through the loops with a soft hiss, the sound loud in the quiet room. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in my hand, the skin warm and smooth against my palm.
I took him deep, my lips sealing around his shaft, my tongue swirling around his length. His cock was thick, the stretch immediate, my throat protesting. But I didn’t stop. I breathed through my nose, relaxed my jaw, took him deeper. This was different from Harold, from Gunnar, from Pierce. They had taken. Julian was being given. And that made it sweeter.
His hands gripped my hair, his hips thrusting forward, his voice a low groan. “Fuck,” he muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re… Christ, Tessa.”
I worked him with my mouth and hand, my tongue swirling around his shaft, my lips sliding against his skin. The suite was quiet, the only sound the crackle of the fire, the wet slide of my mouth against his cock, the sharp gasp of his breath. His hands were possessive, his grip on my hair bruising, his cock driving into my mouth with relentless rhythm.
I could feel his body tensing, his cock thickening, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The debt, the resort, the power—it all twisted together in my mind. I was in control. And it was intoxicating.
I pulled off at the last moment, my hand still working his shaft, my eyes locking onto his. His cock pulsed, his release spilling across my face, the cum thick and warm against my skin, spurting across my lips, my chin, my closed eye.
I didn’t wipe it. I simply leaned in, my tongue sliding over my lips, licking them clean, the taste of him filling my mouth.
Julian was breathing hard, his eyes dark with a mix of shock and hunger. He pushed me away, his voice rough. “We need to cool down,” he muttered, his hands trembling. “Show yourself out.”
He turned and headed to the bathroom, his steps unsteady. Disappointment coiled in my stomach, but then I heard the shower start, the sound of water echoing through the suite.
A devious idea took root. I stood, my body trembling, my skin still slick with his release. I shed my pink bra, my shorts, my socks, my panties. The air was cool against my skin, the silver necklace the only thing I kept on, the charm a stark contrast against my bare chest.
I padded to the bathroom, the tile cold beneath my feet. The door was ajar, the steam curling into the hallway. I pushed it open, stepping into the warm, wet air.
Julian was under the spray, his back to me, the water cascading over his shoulders, his hair plastered to his head. He turned at the sound of my approach, his eyes widening, his cock already hardening again. “Tessa—” he started, but his voice was rough, his body already betraying him.
I didn’t hesitate. I stepped into the shower, the hot water soaking my hair, running down my face, my body. The tile was warm beneath my knees as I sank down, the water cascading over both of us. The scent of soap and steam filled the air, the sound of the water a roar in my ears.
“What are you—” he started, but his voice was lost as I wrapped my hand around his cock, my tongue sliding over the head. The water washed away the precum as soon as it beaded, but I could still taste him—salt and musk and soap.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice rough. “All wet, water running down your skin…”
His hands skimmed over my breasts, my waist, my hips, the water making everything slippery and hot. I took him deeper, my mouth working his shaft, my tongue swirling around his length. The water was running down my face, down my back, making everything slick and warm.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take it deeper. Take all of me.”
I relaxed my throat, taking him deeper, gagging slightly but not caring. I wanted this. Wanted him to lose control. Wanted to give him pleasure so intense he’d feel it in his bones. My hand stroked what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, and I used my other hand to cup his balls, rolling them gently.
“Fuck—Tessa—your mouth—”
I pulled off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his cock. The water washed them away immediately, but the sight made him groan. “I love the way you taste,” I said, stroking him. “Love the weight of you on my tongue. Love making you fall apart like this.”
I took him back in, deeper this time, faster, using everything I’d learned about his body. The sounds he was making—rough groans and muttered curses and my name over and over—were the hottest thing I’d ever heard.
His hips started moving, thrusting shallowly, and I moaned around him in encouragement. Yes. I wanted him to use my mouth. Wanted him to take what he needed.
“Tessa—God—I’m getting close—”
I doubled my efforts, sucking harder, moving faster, taking him as deep as I could. The water continued to cascade over us, steam thick in the air.
He finally accepted, his hands guiding my head, his hips thrusting forward. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that.”
I obeyed, my mouth working his shaft, my tongue swirling around his length. The shower was a symphony of sensation—the hot water, the slick skin, the taste of him filling my mouth.
He came with a groan, his cock pulsing, his release spilling down my throat. I swallowed, tasting him, savoring him, the water washing away the evidence. He hauled me up, crushing his mouth to mine, kissing me desperately. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”
I bit his lower lip, my body pressing against his. “Good. That’s what I want you thinking about when you’re alone.”
He spun me around, pressing me against the tile wall. “My turn.”
His mouth was on me immediately, tongue licking through my folds, finding my clit and circling it with devastating precision. The combination of his mouth and the hot water was overwhelming.
“Oh God—Julian—”
He sucked my clit into his mouth, two fingers sliding inside me, curling to hit my G-spot. The pleasure was intense, building impossibly fast.
“Come for me,” he commanded against my sensitive flesh. “Let me taste you.”
I came hard, crying out, my legs trembling so badly he had to hold me up. He licked me through it, drawing out every wave of pleasure until I was gasping and oversensitive.
When he finally stood, he kissed me deeply, and I could taste myself on his tongue mixed with the lingering taste of him.
We washed each other with a tenderness that felt almost painful, both knowing our time was limited. When we stepped out, I toweled off but left my hair wet, water still dripping down my back and shoulders. The weight of it felt grounding. Real.
Julian wrapped a towel around his waist, his eyes dark with a mix of awe and calculation. He knew he’d been played. And he didn’t even care.
I pulled on my pink shorts, my puffer jacket, my body still trembling. The silver necklace glinted against my skin, the silver chain a stark contrast.
“Your report says everything is fine,” I whispered, my voice a low murmur. “In exchange…” I traced a finger through the water on my cheek, my touch light, teasing. “You can have me. Any time you come back.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. I had never felt more powerful. I was no longer Tessa the failed skier. I was a strategist. I’d bought the resort’s future with my pussy. And my mouth. And my body.