Page 27 of Hidden Hearts

Fuck yes, Avery wants me.

I push the flimsy fabric aside and drag my fingers from slit to clit, groaning at the slick ease of my path. Her breath hitches at the new sensation as I continue petting her pussy.

“A proper thank you requires at least one orgasm, especially when your sweet little cunt is begging for it.” I raise my gleaming fingers for a moment, grinning at her squeak of embarrassment. “See, firebrand? You’re dripping. Your body can’t hide how you feel, Avery.” I suck her cream off my fingers and promise that the next time we’re alone, I’m drinking straight from the source—burying my face between her thick thighs.

"Dominic..."

I shush her with my mouth, stealing my name from her lips before any of the other guests hear her. I don't give a fuck myself. I want everyone to know she’s mine. But Avery wouldn't appreciate being the subject of curious or judgmental looks, and it’s my job to protect her. A job I take very seriously.

My movements become rougher as her body tenses, hurtling closer to her climax. Bites of pain string along my arms where her nails dig into my sleeves. Pre-cum coats the tip of my dick, ready to explode, and thank fuck my black slacks will hide the damp spot.

"Come on, baby," I whisper as my thigh grinds harder against her, my fingers circling her clit. “Come for me.”

A death grip strangles my biceps, and Avery burrows her face into my neck as a long moan of release vibrates over my skin. The intoxicating scent of her arousal mixes with the perfume I noticed earlier—beckoning me closer. Demanding she stay locked in my arms forever.

But of course, that’s impossible.

We’re at a public event. At any moment someone could walk by, glance to the side, and see us.

Tenderly lowering my girl to the ground, I softly murmur a thank you, nuzzling her neck as we fight to get our bearings again. After a few minutes, Avery lightly pushes me away, and I oblige her, expecting an explosion of regret about what happened.

Though, surely, she can't deny this anymore.

Can’t deny us.

Instead, she mumbles something about helping Louise clean up and escapes our alcove.

I let her go.

I've made my point tonight.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AVERY

I shoot a frantic text to Elsie, praying she hasn’t left the lodge yet, as I race to the safety of my hotel room. The party will end soon, and despite what I mumbled to Dominic before running away like my heels were on fire rather than my pussy, Louise doesn’t need help with clean-up. Hearthstone Lodge staff will take care of it.

My phone dings with an incoming message. “Please be here. Please be here,” I muttered, stabbing the UP elevator button. I need Elsie to explain what the heck is wrong with me. The hottest experience of my life just happened, and was it with my boyfriend? A man who doesn’t get under my skin?

Nope.

It was with Dominic Stone.

“Ugh! You’re smarter than this.” At least I thought I was. I’ve never actually felt this out of control before. Never been tempted past the point of my strict boundaries. Leave it to one rude and exasperating man to blast through the previously impenetrable walls.

After ripping off my dress and changing into comfy pajamas, I flop onto the queen-sized bed decorated with a million throw pillows. The exposed wooden beams of the ceiling gleam back at me in all their rustic glory.

All my plans for a relaxing staycation are ruined. How can I sink into the huge clawfoot tub and read when my brain is fixated on Dominic and his talented mouth? And hands. And the firmness of his thigh between—

Grabbing a pillow, I shove it over my face and scream.

That’s when there’s a knock on the door.

Finally! I quickly unlocked the door and let Elsie in before returning to my former position on the bed. Elsie sits at the end of the mattress, her phone on speaker so Grace can weigh in on my debacle, too. The three of us became friends in college and have remained close throughout the years. Grace even mentioned moving back to Suitor’s Crossing to get the gang back together.

"What's wrong? Why the urgent SOS?"

Details of the last hour spill out in an avalanche of flustered sentences. "I don't even like him!” My fist pounds into the comforter at my side. “So, why does this keep happening?" I ask, angry at myself for letting things go too far… again.

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