Page 34 of Unleashed

“Oh my god,” I whispered, feeling the warmth of his desire through the thin fabric of our sheets. “You’re hard.”

Slade’s voice dropped to a low growl. “You want it, I know you do.”

The word yes hovered on my lips. My mind spun with the conflict between my logical side and the raw desire coursing through me. Our working relationship, the differences in our upbringing, all the excuses I clung to—they seemed flimsy now. His body, sculpted and undeniable, was pressing against me, and I couldn’t deny the electric pull between us.

“And you’re full of ego,” I retorted, trying to keep my voice steady. “What makes you think that’s what I want?”

Slade’s breath hitched, but his tone remained confident. “I heard you in your sleep. You asked me to make love to you.”

I scoffed softly. “I doubt it.”

“Why is it so hard to believe?” he persisted, his voice a blend of frustration and longing. “We’re perfect for each other. Just give me a chance.”

I couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. The evidence of my desire was undeniable, a reminder of the year that had passed since I’d been with anyone. That encounter, a blurry mix of wine, nostalgia, and vulnerability, had ended with him leaving before dawn. I’d been grateful then—no need to explain my craving for a fleeting connection. But now, with Slade so close, my resolve wavered.

My thighs pressed together instinctively, betraying my need. Slade’s fingers traced along my arm, his touch both soothing and tantalizing. I knew I had to confront my desires, to decide whether to succumb to the temptation or push it away.

“Come on, Morgan,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and hunger. “We don’t have to make it complicated. Just this once. Let me show you how good it can be.”

The boundaries between my conscious thoughts and the relentless pull of my body were blurring. I wanted him, needed him, and the last vestiges of my resistance were crumbling.

In the enveloping darkness, with Slade’s body pressed so intimately against mine, I knew the choice was becoming ever clearer.

The room was cloaked in shadows, the dim light casting soft glows across the walls. My breath was ragged, my mind clouded by a haze of desire and need.

“Do it,” I whispered, the raw hunger in my voice barely masking the urgency.

Slade’s gaze locked onto mine, his eyes intense and searching. “Say it then. I want to hear the words.”

“Fuck me. Get it over with,” I demanded, a mixture of frustration and yearning curling around my words.

But instead of fulfilling my plea, Slade retreated, sliding away until he was back on his side of the bed. The abrupt distance left me bewildered, a chill creeping over my flushed skin.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, confusion lacing my voice as I reached out for him.

“Get it over with?” His tone was edged with disbelief.

“Make love to me. Is that what you want me to say?”

Slade’s eyes bore into mine, his expression conflicted. “Your tone suggests it’s just physical. I need more than that. I need emotion. I need it.”

I felt a pang of regret. “I can give you emotion, but don’t push me to offer what I’m not ready for. Right now, I need the physical. I care about you. If I didn’t, I would’ve sent you home the first day.”

His demeanor softened, and he moved back toward me, his touch tentative but promising. He rolled me onto my back, his fingers brushing against my belly as he lifted my shirt. My bodyresponded instantly, a flood of heat between my legs betraying my readiness.

“I have two condoms in my wallet,” he said, his voice low and serious.

“Have you been tested?” I asked, a hint of concern threading through my words.

“Months ago,” he assured me. “And I haven’t been with anyone since. What about you?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. “I haven’t been tested recently, but I haven’t been with anyone recently either.” It was a half-truth; I’d been tested after Rick’s visit, but it was easier to keep that detail to myself.

“I trust you,” Slade said, his tone earnest.

He began to explore my body with his hands, cupping my breast and flicking my nipple with his fingertips. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure directly to my core. He bent down, placing gentle kisses on my throat, murmuring, “All those times I saw you at work, I wanted this. I thought about you every night. One time wasn’t enough.”

Images of Slade’s fantasies flickered through my mind. Did he touch himself while thinking of me?

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