Chapter 39
SYLVIE
My eyes widened as I looked at him, trying to process what he’d just said. He couldn’t possibly be ready again so soon. We’d literally just finished again.
But one look at him told me he absolutely could. And was.
“You’re insane,” I breathed, but I was already reaching for him, my body responding to his challenge despite the fact that I should have been exhausted.
“Insanely attracted to you,” he corrected, pulling me against him. His hands slid under my T-shirt. I gasped at the contact. “Come on, Sylvie. Tell me you don’t want me again.”
I couldn’t. Because I did want him again, desperately and immediately, even though it made no logical sense. I’d never been like this with anyone before. This hungry, this reckless, this completely unable to get enough.
“Bedroom,” I managed. He grinned that devastating grin that made my knees weak.
“Lead the way.”
I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway, my heart racing with anticipation. We barely made it through my bedroom door before his hands were on me again, tugging my shirt over my head and tossing it aside.
“God, look at you,” he murmured, his eyes drinking me in like I was something precious. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sylvie.”
The way he said my name made heat pool low in my belly. I reached for him, needing to touch him, to feel his skin against mine, but he caught my wrists.
“Uh-uh. My turn to drive.”
Before I could protest, he spun me around and gently pushed me toward the bed.
I fell onto the mattress with a soft laugh, and when I looked up at him, my breath caught.
He was magnificent, all lean muscle and masculine perfection.
The way he was looking at me made me feel like the most desirable woman in the world.
I had zero shame about being completely nude with the lights on.
He looked at my body like it was art to be studied.
He lowered himself over me, his hard chest pressing against my breasts.
He kissed me. His tongue swept inside my mouth.
I lost myself completely in his kiss and the way his mouth moved against mine with such desperate hunger.
His hands roamed my body like he was trying to touch every inch at the same time.
He rubbed over every sensitive spot, making me arch beneath him.
When he broke the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped me.
“I love that sound,” he murmured against my throat, his voice rough with desire. “Make it again.”
He found that spot just below my ear that sent shivers racing down my spine. I obliged him without even meaning to. My hands tangled in his dark hair, holding him to me as he worked his way lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone.
“Kent,” I breathed and felt him smile against my skin.
“I’m right here,” he said, lifting his head to look at me. The intensity in his hazel eyes made my heart skip. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something in his tone made me search his face, looking for whatever shadow I thought I’d glimpsed there.
But then he was kissing me again, deeper this time, and all coherent thought fled my mind.
There was only the weight of him above me, the heat building between us, and the way he touched me.
The man had turned me into a lusty lady.
I’d had sex before. Even liked it. But with him, it was like trying to compare seeing the night sky in a picture versus actually seeing it with your own eyes.
It was a million times better. Every one of my senses was involved. He knew right where to touch. When to nibble and then when to kiss. My body was his instrument to play.
I pulled him closer, needing more contact, more of everything he was offering. Tonight, he was mine, and I was going to enjoy every second of it.
His gaze shifted to something behind me, and his grin turned absolutely wicked. “Oh, this is perfect,” he said, reaching over me to grab something from my bedpost.
I turned to see what he was after and felt my cheeks flame. “Kent, no.”
But it was too late. He’d already snatched the ridiculous pink Santa hat I’d hung there as part of my Christmas decorating and plopped it on his head. The fuzzy white pom-pom dangled jauntily over one eye.
“How do I look?” he asked, striking a pose that was equal parts ridiculous and devastatingly sexy.
I burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest. “You look absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously sexy, you mean.”
“Ridiculously something,” I gasped between giggles.
He crawled onto the bed, the hat still perched on his head, and suddenly the laughter died in my throat.
Seeing this powerful, confident man wearing my silly Christmas decoration made my heart do strange flip-flops.
He was being playful, uninhibited, letting his guard down in a way that felt intimate beyond just the physical.
“Now,” he said, settling between my legs. “Where were we?”
His hands skimmed up my thighs, and I forgot all about laughing. I forgot about everything except the way he was touching me, looking at me, making me feel like I was the center of his universe.
His tongue was lapping over one nipple when he suddenly froze. His head popped up, and he looked at me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t have any more condoms. I brought two. Do you have one?”
I did. I felt my cheeks burn.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he said and rolled off me. “I’m glad you have one. Or several. Where? I’ll get it?”
I pointed to the bathroom. “Bottom drawer under some washcloths.”
He chuckled “You hide your condoms?”
“I didn’t want anyone to accidentally find them.”
“Why? Please don’t tell me they think you’re a virgin.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I discuss my sex life with my brother or parents. And yes, I think they would prefer to think of me as a virgin. I don’t want to dispel that belief.”
He strolled into the bathroom, his body moving like a sleek panther. When he returned, he held the box just right under the light.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Making sure these damn things aren’t expired.”
I groaned and would have been embarrassed if he didn’t start laughing. “Still got a good year left on them. We’re good.”
He tossed the box onto my nightstand and then returned to the bed with the condom next to my head. “I’m guessing you don’t get into that box very often,” he said in a husky voice inches from my face.
I slowly shook my head. “There aren’t a lot of rich city boys that make their way out here.”
“And rich city boys are the only ones you’ll let take you to bed?”
I licked my lips. “You’re the first.”
Something in his eyes, dark and predatory, turned my body into a raging inferno.
“Good,” he growled. His mouth slammed against mine. This time, it was all about possessing. Letting me know exactly who was in control.
There was never any doubt in my mind, but he seemed determined to get the message across.
I heard the condom tear open and opened my eyes. He quickly rolled it on and then supported his weight above me. His gaze bored into me.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
My eyes locked onto his.
When he slid inside me again, I cried out at the sensation. He felt incredible, perfect, like he’d been made specifically for me. The Santa hat bobbed with his movements, and despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me, I couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re never taking that off,” I breathed.
“Never?” He thrust deeper, making me gasp. “Even when I go back to New York?”
The mention of him leaving sent a sharp pang through my chest, but I pushed it away. I didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Not when he was moving inside me like this, making me feel things I’d never felt before.
“Especially then,” I managed. “I want every woman in Manhattan to know you belong to someone in the mountains.”
Something flickered across his face, too quick for me to interpret, but then he was kissing me, deep and demanding. I lost myself in the moment and decided not to think about any of that.
He set a rhythm that had me arching beneath him, desperate for more.
Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through me, building and building until I thought I might shatter from the intensity of it.
My nails clawed down his back. He winced but seemed to like the pain and set a punishing pace.
His hips ground against mine, hitting my clit in just the right spot.
“Merry fucking Christmas,” he growled against my ear. The combination of his words and the ridiculous hat and the way he was moving inside me sent me over the edge.
I came apart with a cry that probably woke half the lodge, my body convulsing around him as pleasure crashed over me in waves. He followed seconds later, his own release tearing through him as he buried his face in my neck.
We lay there afterward, breathing hard, the Santa hat somehow still clinging to his head. I marveled at how right this felt. How perfectly we fit together.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” I whispered.
He tensed slightly beneath me. “What do you mean?”
I propped myself up on my elbow to look at him. “I mean, a week ago, I was convinced my life was falling apart. Everything I cared about was slipping away, and I felt so helpless to stop it. And then you showed up, and suddenly everything feels possible again.”
The expression on his face was unreadable. “Sylvie.”
“I know this is crazy,” I continued, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I know we barely know each other, and you have your life in New York, and I have mine here. But I can’t help feeling like maybe this is happening for a reason. Like maybe you’re exactly what I needed.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers stroking through my hair. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “You deserve so much better than what you’ve been given.”
“I have you,” I said simply. “Right now, that feels like everything.”
Pain flashed in his eyes, but before I could ask about it, he was kissing me again. Soft and sweet and almost desperate, like he was trying to memorize the taste of me.
When we broke apart, I settled back against his chest, the Santa hat finally sliding off his head and onto the pillow beside us. I should have felt silly about the whole thing. I definitely should be worried about how quickly I was falling for this man and just how reckless I was being.
Instead, I felt more alive than I had in years.
“Kent?” I said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens tomorrow, with the offer and everything, I don’t want this to end.”
His arms tightened around me. “Sylvie.”
“I know it’s complicated. But maybe we could figure it out? Maybe there’s a way to make this work?”
He was quiet for so long I thought he might have fallen asleep. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Maybe,” he said, but something in his voice made my chest ache.
I told myself it was just nerves. Tomorrow would bring good news. The offer would save my family, and somehow, Kent and I would find a way to be together.
Everything was going to work out perfectly.
It had to.