Page 110 of Blindly Yours

I brush her hair off her shoulder and dip my head to her neck. She’s a carefree kind of gorgeous tonight, and I can’t stop myself, so when she lets her head fall back, I slide my hands down over her ass and pull her tighter against me. She lets out a small gasp so I do it again for good measure, slipping my fingers lower still until I can feel the heat of her through the denim of her jeans. She sighs and arches into me as she slides her hands over my shoulders and up around the back of my neck.

I love her like this. Not pretending to be someone she’s not. Not afraid she might step across the invisible line her parents have drawn. Just completely free to be herself in my hands. I’m already vowing to make her feel this way as often as I can.

When I press my fingers into the seam of her jeans and scrape my teeth across her neck, she takes a shaking breath and leans back to look me in the eye, almost incredulously. “What about Kara?”

Kara is the last person on my mind right now, but I know what she means, so I lift one hand and touch my finger softly to her lips with a smirk. “Her bedroom doesn’t share any walls with mine, but can you be quiet?”

Her eyes twinkle and she raises a brow. “It depends on what you’re going to do to me,Nathaniel.”

“No one calls me that…” I chuckle as I take her hand firmly in mine and lead her toward my room. She follows eagerly, and when I pull her inside and she pauses to take in the space, I realize she’s never been in here before. We’ve made out plenty of times on the sofa in the living room, but we’ve never taken it to my room until today. It’s a simple space, much like my room at my cabin, except this one is larger, and instead of a pair of hand-carved wolves on the dresser, there’s a framed landscape photograph of Alaskan snow peaks at sunrise above my bed. I’m a man of little décor.

After a moment to observe, Rose returns her gaze to me, revealing the fire that has never left her eyes. I’m still there too, so, I don’t hesitate. I loop an arm around her waist as I shut the door and turn the lock, then I step into her and quickly press her into the wall to capture her lips with mine again. She always responds when I play a little rough, and my new favorite thing in the world is watching her come undone in front of me, so I sure as hell am going to use that to my advantage now.

With my body pinning her in place, I rake my hand along her jaw and press my thumb against the warm skin just below her ear as we kiss, holding her to me. I grasp the button of her jeans and flick it open, and she gasps against my mouth when I immediately shove my hand into her underwear and find the wetness that’s already pooled there—for me. I grin into her lips and circle my fingers, slowly at first.

She breaks the kiss and arches her head against the wall, biting her lip and drawing in labored breaths. With my thumb at her jaw, I coax her mouth back to mine and dart my tongue out to slide along hers, still tinged with wine.

She grasps my shoulders like a vice, and I can tell she’s truly holding on to me, fearing she might slide to the floor. But I’ve got her. I’m not letting her go anywhere as I press closer still and nip at her lip.

She’s getting close, and her legs start to shake under her own weight, so I pull back to catch her gaze. I lift one finger to my lips and grin.

Her nails dig into my shoulders and she squeezes her eyes shut briefly before they meet mine with desperation. “I…I’m not sure I can stay quiet…I need you…to help me.”

Oh, I can do that.

I lean my forehead into hers and quicken my fingers. Her body tenses almost immediately, confirming I’ve had her right on the edge, and then she clenches her teeth to hold in the sound that begins to erupt from the back of her throat. I slide my hand to her lips and clasp it firmly over her mouth as she rides the wave and moans into my palm. It muffles the sound just enough that I’m sure we can’t be heard from two rooms away.

Her body contracts for just another moment before she melts into my arms and I drop my hand from her mouth and replace it with my lips. If I didn’t have her pinned against the wall, she absolutely would have sunk to the floor.

“My God, Nate…” she sighs against me. “You play a dangerous game…”

I chuckle as I loop my arm under her knees and lift her spent frame. I carry her to the bed and lay her gently in the center before stepping back to peel my shirt over my head and unbuckle my belt.

Rose shimmies out of her clothes while I remove my own, but her eyes never leave mine. For a moment, I just stand at the foot of the bed, gazing at the beautiful woman in front of me. She’s flawless; every inch of skin perfectly smooth, every curve laid out like they were made for me. I was already hard, but the sight of her before me solidifies the point.

When I crawl up the bed, she parts her legs and I settle myself between them, kissing each of her cheeks gently before finding her lips. “You’re perfect,” I whisper against them. Then I trail my kisses down to her chest and back up across her shoulder. Goosebumps spread across her skin and I wish I could kiss each one as a reminder that I’m making her feel this way.

I rise up again and meet her penetrating gaze. She lifts a hand and places it gently against my cheek. My eyes drift shut as I lean into it.

“You’reperfect,” she echoes my sentiment, smiling softly when I open my eyes again.

I position myself at her entrance and push into her, slowly, watching her eyes drift shut at the sensation, and then I begin to move. I can’t believe how perfect she feels, like she was made for me. I drop my head to the crook of her shoulder and pick up my pace as the room around us fades away.

We’re just heat, and sweat, and frenzied breaths as we climb to the top and spill over the edge. This time, I capture her mouth with my own to muffle her moan, and she clings to me so tightly I pull her with me as I roll down onto the sheets to catch my breath.

She lays her head on my chest and sighs happily. “I like you a lot.”

I chuckle as I run my fingers lazily through her hair. There’s more I want to say.Somuch more. I lovethis woman. Fully, and completely. But in this moment, when everything is perfect the way it is, I’m happy to agree. “I like you a lot too,little spoon.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Rose

Ihate After-Life Meetings. They’re my least favorite part of the job. It’s the perfect trifecta for an uncomfortable situation. Usually, someone cries, someone gets offended, or someone gets so passive-aggressive that we have to halt the entire meeting. I wish these conversations weren’t necessary, but when you’re working with the wealthy, they’re often also elderly, so death is inevitable.

Today, I’m in Hanover, a small town forty-five minutes outside of the city, at the sprawling estate that belonged to the late Hugh Bettencourt. He was my client for three years, during most of which he battled a rare form of aggressive cancer. He was seventy-four when he passed last week.

Now, his wife, six children, and younger brother sit in front of me in an overly ornate living room overlooking an expansive garden and private pond. I’ve walked them through the will execution, inheritance tax planning, and the details of Mr. Bettencourt’s trusts, and we’re finally wrapping up.

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