Two Beds, One Mission
Maisie
The door swung open, and I forgot how to breathe.
It wasn't just a room. It was a full-blown fantasy. The foyer alone was bigger than my college dorm. To the left, a velvet-lined sitting room stretched out like something from a historical romance novel, something with dukes and duchesses and rakish rogues.
Breathlessly, I took it all in – the ornate fireplace, the wingback chairs, and even a chandelier.
Straight ahead, a set of French doors led to a balcony with a stunning view of the water shimmering in the moonlight.
To the right, two bedrooms waited – one draped in soft ivory and the other in pale blue. Both had towering beds piled with more pillows than a girl would ever need, and on the side tables, there were vases of fresh flowers everywhere.
I smiled. And it wasn't even St. Paddy's Day.
As Griff shut the door behind us, I turned in a slow circle, taking all of it in. "Is this real life?"
"It is for us."
Us. I loved the way that sounded. It wasn't because of the fancy suite or the fact that Griff was able to afford it. It was everything he was on the inside, with or without the money.
My heart gave that familiar flutter as I kicked off my shoes and felt the plush carpet beneath my toes.
Awestruck, I took another long look around.
"Two bedrooms, huh?" I tried – and failed – to keep a straight face.
"Is that a hint? One for each of us?" But then it hit me.
"Oh, wait…unless one of them's for your mom? "
This made him laugh. "God, no. She's got a suite of her own. This place is all for you."
I shook my head. "Not me. Us."
"Us," he repeated with a soft grin.
"So…how long are you staying here?"
"Here in this room?" he asked. "Or here on the island?"
"Either one." I nudged his arm. "Or both."
"Alright. The room?" He glanced around. "I figure we'll play it by ear."
"And the island?"
"Now that's up to you."
"What do you mean?"
He smiled. "If you wanna stay, we'll stay."
His statement felt like a dream come true, and I felt a wicked grin spread across my face. "And how about that bed?"
He looked intrigued. "Which one?"
"Either." I kept my eyes locked on his. "How long are we gonna stay there?"
He moved closer and said in a voice rich with promise. "As long as you want."
A delicious ache bloomed in my chest. "Well, we do have some making up to do." A sudden laugh escaped my lips. "Oh, my God, I just realized something."
His mouth curved into a smile. "What?"
"You and I – we've never done it in an actual bed."
He cocked an eyebrow. "It?"
Heat rushed to my face, hitting a few other parts along the way. "You know."
His voice was a sweet caress. "You wanna know what else I know?"
"What?"
"I love you."
My breath hitched, and my heart soared. I swear, if he said it a million more times, I would never tire of hearing it. I felt my eyes grow just a little misty. "I love you, too."
His arms wrapped around me, and everything around us faded to the background.
When he bent to kiss me, I met him halfway.
The kiss started gentle, like a promise whispered in the dark, but quickly deepened into something raw and hungry. His hands slipped into my hair as mine curled around his collar like I couldn't get him nearly close enough.
By the time we pulled back, both of us were breathless. But then he asked in a teasing sort of way, "Are you sure you don't want little sandwiches instead?"
I snickered. "After."
A wicked glint lit his eyes. "After what?"
That did it. I couldn't wait a moment longer. I practically tackled him, leaping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist.
He caught me without flinching, like he'd been waiting for it all along. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me like I weighed next to nothing as his mouth again found mine and his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt.
"Bed," I gasped between kisses. "We have a bed now."
He smiled against my lips. " Two beds."
I didn't know whether to giggle or groan. "Yeah, but we only need one."
He nipped at my jaw, still holding me without breaking a sweat. "You say it like we're gonna make it there."
"We are," I insisted, even as he turned us toward the bedrooms. "We are making it to that bed."
He chuckled. "Which one?"
"The closest, definitely." I didn't even know which one was closer. I just knew that if I didn't have him now, I would surely combust.
Like a hero on a mission, he crossed the threshold of the bedroom in blue. The room was all soft light and understated perfection – elegant, peaceful, and, if I had my way, about to be thoroughly defiled.
He set me down on the edge of the bed and stood over me, looking like a fantasy come to life, with tousled hair, a wicked gleam, and a smile I would choose over any view on the island.
Softly, I asked, "How are you even real?"
His gaze was warm in the muted light. "I should ask the same of you."
He reached down, brushing his knuckles along my cheek before letting his hand trail down the curve of my neck like he was savoring every inch.
Softly, he said, "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." My breath caught in my throat. "And you know what?"
"What?"
"You should kiss me."
I didn't need to ask twice. He moved forward, and his mouth claimed mine even as my fingers dove into his hair, tugging him closer while his hands slid under the hem of my shirt.
His palms were warm on my bare skin. Against my throat, he murmured, "You're wearing way too many clothes."
I was gasping now. "So are you."
"Yeah, but you first," he said, lifting the hem of my shirt and pulling the whole thing off – including my simple pullover bra – with practiced ease. I let myself fall back onto the bed, already breathless, my skin tingling from the warmth of his touch.
I barely had time to laugh before he pulled back and dropped to his knees in front of me, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts. He dragged them down slowly, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down the inside of my thigh.
My hips shifted, already aching for more. With a yank of my panties, I was bare, eager, and trembling with need.
When I started to sit up, he raised his head to say, "Lie back."
I was nearly too dazed to think. "Why?"
"Why do you think?" He grinned. "Now do it before I take you here and now."
I made a sound that was half protest, half groan. "But I want you to take me."
"And I want to take my time. Have I mentioned I've been missing you?" Softer now, he added, "Let's make it last." And then, he lowered his head and let his tongue trail across that special spot.
Sweet mercy, yes. He didn't need to ask again. With a moan of pure bliss, I stretched out on the ridiculously fluffy bed while his mouth worked a special kind of magic.
First, he kissed the inside of my thigh, slow and reverent, before doing it again – closer this time. When his mouth found me yet again, it was like falling into heat and velvet as my hips rose and fell.
He started with featherlight strokes, teasing me with the flat of his tongue before circling back to exactly where I needed him most. I gasped, the sound catching in my throat as he pressed in deeper, more purposeful now, like he knew my body better than I knew it myself.
His hands gripped my hips, anchoring me while his tongue explored with a rhythm that was just a little maddening. He kept going, playing my body just right.
I arched against him, helpless and aching, chasing every flick and swirl. "Oh, wow," I breathed, one hand sliding into his hair, the other fisting the coverlet. He made a sound low in his throat – satisfied and hungry – and the vibration alone had me nearly undone.
When he drew my swollen center into his mouth and sucked, I finally shattered. My whole body clenched as the electric pulse bloomed through me in waves.
He didn't let up – not until I was trembling and gasping his name like it was the only one I'd ever known.
And then, he looked up, his eyes burning with satisfied heat. "You were saying?"
Goodness. I could hardly think, let alone speak. With something between a laugh and a groan, I managed to say, "Bed. Here. Now."
He gave a low, satisfied chuckle. "Say what?"
I reached out with both hands and said, half-pleading, half-teasing, "You're so far away."
With his gaze locked on mine, he stood and moved toward me, all slow, deliberate power. "And you're naked."
"Yeah?" I motioned him closer. "And you'll be, too, if you get your ass over here."
Slowly, he grinned. "Just my ass?" He said it with all kinds of promise and just a little bit of sin.
Okay, a lot of sin.
Breathlessly, I replied, "All of you." I was mesmerized by the sight of him. "Preferably naked."
His eyes filled with mischief. "Preferably, huh?"
All I could do was nod.
Right then, I would've given anything to know what he was thinking – what he was feeling – and if this felt like forever to him, too.
I sure as heck hoped so, because me? I was so far gone, there was no going back.
Finally, he closed the distance, shedding his clothes until there was nothing between us but heat and history. When he finally joined me on the bed, I was practically quivering with anticipation.
When our bodies touched, it was a spark and a sigh, all skin, promise and love. Beyond eager, I wrapped my fingers around his length, hard and hot, and already pulsing with need.
He kissed me again, deep and slow, and when our bodies aligned, I guided him to where I wanted – where I needed – him most.
"Maisie," he breathed, his forehead touching mine. "You're everything I ever wanted."
"Me, too." My voice was thick with emotion. "Always."
And then, he entered me in one perfect, aching push that made my breath catch and my heart stutter.
We moved together, slow at first, like rediscovering a rhythm that had never truly left us. The rise and fall of our bodies found a tempo all their own.
It wasn't just sex.
It was everything.
I wrapped my legs around him, holding him close, holding him here.
And when we climaxed together – when the rhythm crested, and my body clenched around him, pulling him even deeper – I knew two things without a doubt.
I was his.
And he was mine.
Forever? I sure hoped so.