Page 87 of If It Can't Be Us

I trail frantic kisses along her jaw, neck, and collarbone, working my way down to her tits. Taking a nipple into my mouth, I flick it with my tongue. She moans loudly, her fingers weaving in my hair and gently tugging.

I hook my fingers under her panty line and tug. She lifts her hips, allowing me to slide them down her legs, then moves to pull off my boxer-briefs, sliding them over my ass until I spring free.

I settle between her legs, holding myself up on either side of her head. My blood burns with desire, a delicious fire I welcome. I pause, taking a moment to appreciate the woman beneath me before I devour her completely. “God, you’re beautiful,” I say hoarsely.

She grips the back of my neck, her eyes glistening. “So are you,” she whispers. Her fingers glide down my chest, unhurried and teasing, until she grips my length in one smooth, deliberate stroke. A groan rumbles out of me, a mix of pleasure and shock at what her touch does to me. She continues to stroke me, the rapture rising like a wave in a hurricane.

No one—absolutely no one—has ever had the effect that Vivian Walker has on me.

Chapter 27

VIVIAN

I have died and gone to heaven. Leo hovers over me, his muscles taut.Good God, he looks good naked.Every inch of him is strong and defined. I can feel the tension in him, every muscle hard as he keeps himself just high enough to avoid crushing me.

He lowers himself, his gaze fixed on my mouth. Slowly, he brings his lips to mine. His tongue teases mine, each flick met with my own. His mouth is heaven, his body that of a god, and I feel like a queen as he worships every inch of me with his hands and mouth—touching, tasting, winding me up like strings in a quartet, ready for the performance of a lifetime.

A James Arthur song plays softly in the background, and this feels too good to be true. The perfect song, a yacht on the Seine in Paris, and Leo—it’s like a movie, and we’re the leads.

His fingers glide over my slickness, plunging in as his thumb circles my clit. The pleasure building fast and deep, my inner muscles clenching with each pump. “Right there… oh, yes,” I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as I feel the orgasm start to rise within me. Waves of ecstasy flood my body, filling me with heat as I lose all control. My back arches hard, forcing my head back, a cry tearing from my throat as I shatter around him. My whole body writhes, toes curling tight, every nerve burning with ecstasy as I come undone.

“God, Leo… don’t stop,” I beg, my breaths short and shallow as I gasp through the euphoric sensations searing through my body. I shudder, my eyes practically rolling back, lost in the intensity as I climax.

His eyes are wild and gleam with satisfaction at how easily his touch made me come.

Cupping his balls in one hand, I gently knead them. He groans deep and low against my neck, continuing to kiss me. His dick is perfect—just the right length and girth. I continue to tease him with strokes and tickles, and as he loses more and more control, it deepens the pleasure surging through my veins.

He stands to get a condom from his pants pocket, rolling it on with practiced ease. He positions himself between my legs, and I arch into him, desperate for every inch of his perfect cock to fill me. “I want you inside me,” I pant.

Despite the overwhelming excitement, a flicker of nervousness courses through me. This is the first time since Ben, and while nothing makes me want to stop, the reality of it hits me.

Sensing my hesitation, his lips brush against mine in a slow, lingering kiss that melts away my nerves.

I gently tug on his bottom lip with my teeth, and he loses control, possessively claiming my mouth. He pulls back slightly, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with a hunger that cuts the air from my lungs. “God, you drive me crazy,” he says, his voice low and rough with need. He positions himself at my entrance, spreading my legs with his knees, pinning one against the sofa. I hold my breath, bracing myself as he dips his tip inside, just enough for me to feel him. He pulls out, rubbing his cock against my clit before pushing in again—teasing me—hovering on the edge of fully giving in, only to draw back, making my body ache for more.

He’s torturing me, and it’s maddening, like I’m being held hostage by my own pleasure, trapped in a cycle of anticipation and aching need. I can’t take it anymore. “God, stop teasing me,” I gasp, desperation seeping into every word. “Just give it to me already,” I beg, just as he predicted I would.

His eyes flare with a dark satisfaction, his control slipping just enough to finally push deeper. He continues with slow, deliberate strokes—in and out—drawing it out until I’m trembling beneath him. Grasping the back of his neck, I pull him closer, craving his mouth, and he gives it to me. The fire inside me builds as he plunges into me wildly.

My legs wrap around his back, and something primal takes over us both as he thrusts furiously. Realizing there was no need to be nervous, I surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation of how fucking good this feels. He continues to move within me, our bodies synchronized in a rhythm that makes everything else fade away. His thrusts deepen, his pace steady and relentless, drawing out every ounce of gratification. A bolt of lightning rushes through my limbs; I shudder in response, crying out as I peak. He comes with me, his body quivering over mine as he groans against my mouth, our breaths rapid and hot.

I feel him release, and his body goes limp as he pulls out. He drops his head beside mine, chuckling and pressing tender kisses along my temple. “God, Vivian,” he whispers, pulling back to gaze into my eyes. “That was… fuck. You’re incredible.” He searches my eyes, ensuring I’m okay. I’m overwhelmed with emotion as I realize that I just had sex with a man who isn’t Ben, and I enjoyed it… immensely.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I bring my hands to my face to hide.

“Hey,” he murmurs, stroking my face gently. “Are you okay?” He searches my eyes, checking that I’m okay. “It’s okay, Viv. It’s okay to feel all the things right now.” He rolls over and spoons me from behind, taking my hands in his, lowering them to my chest, and kissing my cheek.

I nod because words will fail me right now. I hate that I’m about to cry. I feel vulnerable but also safe, knowing it’s Leo. I know he understands the conflicting emotions inside me.

He kisses my forehead and strokes the hair around my face.

“I want to hold you, but we probably need to get cleaned up and dressed. We’ll be docking soon,” he says.

I nod. “Okay, let’s get cleaned up.”

I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in a dining room on a yacht that is not ours, on a couch that God knows who’s been on, and hopefully not doing what we just did on it. The reality of our surroundings hits me hard.

“What if someone sees us?” I say, knowing the bathroom is at the other end of this large room.

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