Page 51 of Privileged (Adrenalin)

That one word is all it takes for him to stop holding back. His hips start to piston back and forth, tunneling deeper than I thought possible. So deep, it feels like he’s fusing us together, atom by atom.

Absent the use of my limbs, I’m helpless to do anything but accept the pleasure he’s giving me, giving us, as he drives our bodies relentlessly forward.

Each thrust pushes me closer to the brink, clouding my thoughts in a passionate haze where all I see is him, commanding my body.

Jaw locked in concentration, carnal grunts rumble from his throat with each plunge. A thin sheen of sweat dots his brows, drawn tight as though he’s still desperately trying to maintain some restraint, though the wild pumping of his hips suggests he has none.

The smack of skin-on-skin echoes throughout the room as our bodies come together furiously,feverishly,chasing the release we desperately need but want to prolong. The firm tip of his cock pounds against my center, each pass driving my pleasure closer to the edge and pulling a desperate cry from my chest.

“Fuck you’re getting tight,” Carter pants. “Let me feel you shatter. I’ll be right there with you.”

Once again, his words send me over the edge, and just as he requested, my walls start to convulse around him, shooting tremors throughout my body. With a final lurch, Carter stills, his head falling back on his shoulders as his cock jerks inside me.

Breathless and spent, my limbs are motionless while my ass continues to milk him. I can tell he likes that by the way he presses against me, straining to feel every quiver I have to offer.

“Jesus, Sloan,” he rasps when he finally catches his breath. “I don’t even know what just happened. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” My head slumps against his chest, too heavy to hold upright. I breathe in his woodsy scent with a contented sigh. “You wrecked me though. I don’t think I can move.”

I feel the chuckle rumble in his chest before I hear it. “You wrecked me, too.” He spins us to the bed a few feet away and collapses onto it, so I’m splayed acrosshis chest.

Free to move my legs, I stretch them behind me as Carter idly runs his fingers over my back. “You never did say whether you want to unpack here or at my place.”

“Yours,” I exhale. “Maybe after a nap, though.” I’m just conscious enough to register his arms wrapping me in a hug before I drift off.

Chapter eighteen

Carter

Finn takes a seat in one of the chairs across the desk, his face schooled into a carefully blank expression. After the bike race, I would’ve expected him to be more relaxed, though I suppose my being in a suit instead of a goofy costume might have him on guard.

I make a mental note to think about losing the jacket for future meetings then pass him a set of documents. “The first ten pages are the environmental report from Maddox,” I say as he flips through them. “No endangered animals were found, so we’re clear to develop it, if the costs pan out.”

“Is that what the spreadsheets are in the back? Cost estimates?” He turns the document sideways so he can read it, dragging a finger along the page as he reviews the numbers.

“Projections for the capital expenditure and the increase in tourists,” I confirm.

“That’s more people than I would’ve expected.” He rubs his jaw, his gaze firmly set on the pages in front of him.

“Data indicates a greater than anticipated number of what we’d define as extreme athletes. That’s U.S. only, by the way.” I point to the last column on his sheet.

“Makes sense, we don’t typically attract international travelers.”

“With this terrain developed we might.”

“Can the resort support the influx?” The creases on his forehead seem deeper as he lifts his head from the document.

“Tough to say. The good news is since Katah Vista is so remote we’re unlikely to get many day-trippers out here, which will limit the number of riders on the mountain to those who have a place to stay. That virtually assures local businesses that they’ll have customers.”

“Is there bad news?” That’s the question I was hoping he’d ask. It shows that he’s listening to what I didn’t say as well as what I did.

“There are only so many places to stay, and at full capacity, we’ll only marginally improve our current cash flow.”

“So, we need more options? Hotels, condos, stuff like that.” He turns his attention back to the document, looking for those projections I assume.

“Back page,” I tell him. “I’d already planned on another hotel, and with a little construction boom, I wouldn’t be surprised if some local developers made plans to put up additional condos. These projects could create a lot of jobs in the short-term, and if all available housing options run at a steady seventy-five percent occupancy that could tip us toward profitability two years after completion.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He lifts his head and looks at me pointedly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he waits for my response.

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