24. Investor Relations （The Inappropriate Kind） #2
"Victor," she breathes. "We should—we should get back to the gala."
"We should."
"People will notice we're gone."
"Probably."
“We have a lot to talk about.”
"Definitely."
Neither of us stops.
I back her up against the vanity, my hands sliding down to grip her hips, and when she moans, a soft mewling sound that makes me hard as stone, I nearly growl.
"We can't do this here," she says even as she's reaching for my belt buckle.
"Why not?"
"Because this is a powder room at the St. Regis during a corporate gala."
"So?"
"So someone could—oh God—someone could walk in—"
"I locked the door."
"What if someone needs to…Victor…”
Her protest dies as I slip my hand under her dress, sliding up the silk of her inner thigh. She's wearing stockings—actual stockings with a goddamned garter belt, for crying out loud, and I pull on the thin fabric with a soft snap, humming softly against her lush pink mouth.
"You're wearing stockings."
"The dress required—oh—"
I trace the edge of the lace at the top of her leg, my thumb playing at the crease between her thigh and hips.
"You've been wearing these all night?"
“Y-yes. Victor, please—"
"Please what?"
"Touch me. Please touch me."
I slide my fingers higher, finding lace underwear that's already damp.
"You're wet."
"I've been wet since the moment I saw you in that tux.”
The confession nearly unravels me.
No more waiting.
I push the lace aside and slide one finger through her folds, finding her clit and circling it. The moment my fingers make contact, Harper gasps, her head falling back against the mirror.
"More," she demands.
"So demanding."
"You love it."
I do. I love how she knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it. And with no more hesitation, I slide two fingers inside her, sighing when her pussy clenches around me immediately.
"Fuck, you're tight."
"It's been—oh God, it's been at least twelve hours—"
I smile, hooking my fingers inside Harper, pressing the tips against every plush part that makes her sigh and moan.
"Shh," I murmur. "You have to be quiet. There's a ballroom full of people right outside."
"Then you should—ah—stop doing that—"
"Stop doing what? This?"
I curl my fingers again, harder this time, using my thumb to circle her clit, and she bites down on her hand to keep from crying out.
"That's it," I murmur. "Be good for me."
I work her with my hand, watching her face as she gets closer. Her creamy skin is pink with heat, long lashes fluttering as her pretty lips press into the shape of an “o.”
“Oh my—V-Victor, please. I’m close—“
"Come for me, honey. Let me feel it."
She does, clenching around my fingers so hard it's almost painful, her whole body shaking with it. I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down.
When she can breathe again, she opens her eyes and looks at me.
"That was—"
"Not enough."
I drop to my knees in front of her.
"Victor, what are you—oh—"
I push her dress up to her waist and hook one of her legs over my shoulder, exposing her completely.
She's beautiful like this. Flushed and wet and mine.
I lean forward and put my mouth on her, and she makes a sound that's half gasp, half moan.
"We don't have time—" she manages.
"Then I'll make it quick."
I use my tongue to trace through her folds, tasting her, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan.
When I find her clit and suck gently, her hands fist in my hair hard enough to hurt.
"Oh fuck. Victor—"
I hum against her, the vibration making her shake, and slide two fingers back inside her.
The combination of my mouth and my fingers works her higher, faster, and I can feel her getting close again, her thighs trembling around my head.
"I'm—Victor, I'm going to—"
I curl my fingers and suck harder, and she comes apart above me, her whole body going rigid before the tremors hit.
I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thigh.
When I look up, she's staring down at me with an expression I can't quite read.
"What?" I ask.
"I love you," she says. "And I need you inside me. Right now."
I stand, and she's already reaching for my belt, unbuckling it with shaking hands.
"You sure?" I ask even as I'm helping her push my pants down.
"Very sure. I need—I need to feel you. All of you. Please."
I free myself from my boxer briefs, and her eyes darken as she wraps her hand around me.
"God, you're so hard."
"You have that effect on me."
She strokes me once, twice, and I have to grab her wrist to stop her.
"If you keep doing what you’re doing, this is going to be over before it starts."
I lift her onto the vanity, and she wraps her legs around my waist as I line myself up with her entrance.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Yes. Please. I need you."
I push inside her in one smooth stroke, and we both freeze.
She's impossibly tight and wet and perfect around me.
"Okay?" I manage.
"More than okay. You feel—oh God, you feel so good."
I start to move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The angle is perfect—deep and tight and exactly right.
Harper's head falls back against the mirror, exposing the long line of her throat. I take advantage, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there.
"Victor—oh God—harder—"
I grip her hips and pull her forward on the vanity, changing the angle, and she gasps.
"There?"
"Yes, r-right there. Don't stop—"
I don't.
I set a rhythm that's deep and hard and exactly what she's asking for. The vanity is solid enough to take it, and I'm careful to keep her steady, one hand on her lower back, the other gripping her hip.
She's making these little sounds with each thrust—half moans, half whimpers—and they're driving me insane.
"You feel so good," I groan. "So fucking perfect."
"Harder, please—I need—"
I increase my pace, driving into her with more force. The sound of skin on skin fills the small powder room, mixing with our harsh breathing.
"Touch yourself," I command. "I want to feel you come around me."
Her hand slides between us, finding her clit, and the sight of her touching herself while I'm inside her nearly makes me lose it.
"That's it," I groan. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, sweetheart.”
"Victor, I’m close—so close—"
"Come for me. I want to feel it."
She circles her clit faster, her other hand gripping my shoulder for balance, and I can feel her starting to tighten around me.
"That's it. Come for me, Harper.”
She does, clenching around me so hard I see stars. The feeling of her pulsing around my cock sends me over the edge, and I bury myself deep as I come, her name a groan against her neck.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers.
“Wow,“ she starts. “That was truly—“
"Terrible decision-making?"
"I was going to say incredible, but sure, that too."
I pull out carefully and help her down from the vanity. She immediately wobbles, and I catch her.
"Legs not working?" I ask, smug.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
She kisses me, and I can taste champagne and chocolate from dessert and something that's purely Harper.
When I finally pull back, she's smiling.
"We need to get back," she says.
"We do."
"We've been gone for—" she checks her phone "—oh God, twenty-three minutes."
"That's not that long."
"Victor, twenty-three minutes is an eternity in corporate gala time."
"They'll survive."
We attempt to make ourselves presentable. Harper fixes her lipstick in the mirror, adjusts her dress, smooths down her hair.
"How do I look?" she asks.
"Like you just had sex in a powder room."
“Jesus, Victor, I—“
"You asked."
"Do I actually look—"
"You look beautiful. Slightly flushed. Thoroughly ravished. But beautiful."
She takes a deep breath, examining herself critically in the mirror. "My lips are swollen."
"From kissing."
"My neck has a mark."
"From me."
"Victor, I can't go back out there looking like this."
"Why not? It's not like they don't know we're sleeping together."
"There's knowing and there's having evidence literally written on my skin."
I look at the small red mark just below her ear. It's not that obvious, but she's right—it's there.
"Your hair will cover it if you let it down."
"I can't let my hair down. I spent an hour getting it like this."
"Then wear it as a badge of honor."
"You're not funny."
"I'm a little funny."
She glares at me in the mirror, but then a grin breaks out on her pretty face.
"Okay," she says finally. “Let’s make a smart exit. I'll go first. You wait five minutes."
“Honey, I have to be honest with you—“
"I know, I know. It's not going to fool anyone. But it makes me feel better to try."
"Fair enough."
She crosses to the door, then turns back.
"Victor?"
"Yes, sweetheart?”
"I meant what I said.” She exhales softly, peering up at me. “I love you."
My chest squeezes. “I know.” I lean over, placing a kiss by her temple. “I love you too."
"No matter what happens?"
"No matter what happens."
She nods, unlocks the door, checks the hallway, and slips out.
I wait exactly five minutes—straightening my tie, tucking in my shirt, trying to look like a CEO who hasn't just fucked his girlfriend in a semi-public location.
The hickey on my neck is barely visible above my collar. The one I left on Harper's neck is more obvious, but hopefully her hair will cover it.
When I return to the ballroom, Harper is at our table, calmly eating dessert and chatting with a board member like she's been there the whole time.
She doesn't look at me as I sit down.
But under the table, her hand finds mine and squeezes. I squeeze her hand back and listen to her charm the board member to her left, letting myself enjoy the feel of her soft skin, keeping thoughts of Monday’s board vote at bay.
At least, for now.