Page 34 of Filthy Rich Bosses

With a Herculean effort, I force myself to take a step back. Then another. But just then, Tessa cries out, her groan so deep I can feel it in my groin.

I can't help but stare as Tessa straddles Chase, her hips undulating in a mesmerizing rhythm. The moonlight casts a silvery glow on her skin, accentuating every curve and dip of her body. Chase's hands grip her waist, guiding her movements as she rides him with abandon.

"Fuck, Tess," Chase groans, his voice carrying faintly through the glass. "You’re gonna make me come."

Tessa throws her head back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. The look of pure ecstasy on her face sends a jolt of desire straight through me. I feel myself hardening, my body responding traitorously to the erotic scene before me.

This is wrong,I think, even as I remain rooted to the spot.I shouldn't be watching this.

But I can't look away. My eyes are drawn to Cole as he moves behind Tessa, pressing his chest to her back. His hand snakes around her throat, applying gentle pressure. Tessa's eyes flutter closed, her lips parting in a silent moan.

"That's it, baby," Cole murmurs, his hips grinding against her. "Let go for us."

I watch, transfixed, as Cole's other hand slips between Tessa's legs. Even from here, I can see the way she trembles at his touch. The sight of them together, lost in pleasure, is both agonizing and arousing.

I need to leave,I think desperately.Now.

But still, I don't move.

I can't tear my eyes away as Tessa's movements become more frantic, her breathing ragged. She's close, I can tell. The tension in her body, the way she arches her back—it's all building to a crescendo.

I grip the doorframe, my knuckles turning white. I'm achingly hard now, straining against my pants. The urge to touch myself is almost overwhelming.

This is insane,I think, fighting to control my breathing.I shouldn't be this turned on. I shouldn't be here at all.

"Oh God," she gasps, loud enough for me to hear. "I'm gonna—"

Her words cut off in a sharp cry of pleasure. I watch, mesmerized, as she comes undone between Chase and Cole. The raw intensity of her orgasm is breathtaking. My own body throbs in response, heat pooling low in my belly. Fuck, I’m about tocome in my pants like an inexperienced teenager. I’m thirty-six years old. This is embarrassing.

But the sight of Tessa's face, flushed with pleasure, her body trembling with aftershocks—it's almost more than I can bear. I feel myself teetering on the edge, dangerously close to…no. I can’t go there.

Cole guides Tessa to her knees, his hands tangled in her hair. I'm so captivated by the way he positions himself in front of her, freeing his cock and guiding it between her lips, that I don't notice the patio door sliding open beside me.

"Enjoying the show?" Chase's voice startles me, and I whirl around to face him.

"I...I was just..." I stammer, heat rising to my cheeks.

Chase's knowing smirk makes me want to disappear. Panic floods my system. I can't deal with this right now. Without a word, I turn and bolt towards my room, Chase's voice calling after me.

"We need to talk, Gray!”

I ignore him, my feet carrying me swiftly down the hallway. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of arousal and shame coursing through my veins. I need to be alone, to process what I've just witnessed, to grapple with the conflicting emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

I slam the door behind me, leaning against it as I try to catch my breath. My room, usually a sanctuary, feels suffocating. I close my eyes, but it's no use. Tessa's face, contorted in pleasure, is etched into my mind. Her soft moans echo in my ears, refusing to fade away.

"Get it together, Grayson," I mutter to myself, my hands clenched at my sides.

I push off the door and pace the room, my thoughts a tangled mess. The image of Tessa, her black hair wild and her gorgeous eyes blazing with passion, keeps flashing before me. I can almostfeel the intensity of her gaze. It’s the same piercing look she gets when she talks about her beloved animals.

"This is wrong," I say aloud, trying to convince myself. "Sarah would be..."

But I can't finish the thought. Would Sarah really be disgusted? Or would she want me to move on, to find happiness again? I shake my head, trying to clear it.

"She'd understand, wouldn't she?" I ask the empty room, my voice barely above a whisper. "She always said life was for living."

I collapse onto the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands. The guilt is overwhelming, but so is the desire. Tessa's passion, her fire, her determination—they call to something deep within me, something I thought had died with Sarah.

"What am I supposed to do?" I groan, looking up at the ceiling as if it might hold the answers I seek.

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