Page 103 of The Love Syllabus

After we talk to Syd and Ari and tell them how much we love them, we agree to turn off our phones and focus solely on each other for the rest of the night.

Back at the lake house, I let the night’s chaos soak away in the tub, steam curling around me as warm water kisses my skin. I close my eyes, letting my mind wander, knowing Vic is preparing something for us in the kitchen. A “sweet delight” is what he calls it, and with the way his voice dipped when he said it, I know it’ll be more than just dessert.

My body hums, still buzzing with pride and admiration for Vic, for the way he stood tall tonight, for the way he claimed me in front of the world—not just with his words, but with his unwavering presence. The weight of everything, Cory’s games, the past, and the future—it all drifts away for now.

I soak in the warmth, letting it settle deep in my bones before stepping out, knowing full well I’m about to get dirty again. With a deep breath, I slip into something I’ve never worn before, lingerie I specifically purchased for tonight—a sheer black lace slip barely hiding anything.

It’s soft, feminine, sensual, everything I never allowed myself to be before. I’m excited yet feeling vulnerable, but I push through it because I know once Vic sees me, he’ll look at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

And I want to see that look. I want to see him.

When I enter the front room, I’m stunned. The entire living room has been transformed. The glow of the fireplace flickers across the room, casting golden light against plush blankets and pillows strewn across the floor, creating the perfect intimate escape. A bottle of champagne sits chilling in an ice bucket next to a tray of desserts so decadent, my mouth waters on sight.

As usual, he’s outdone himself with an array of milk chocolate-covered strawberries, miniature French pastries drizzled in caramel, and handmade truffles dusted with edible gold flakes. But the centerpiece is a bowl of fresh whipped cream, a pot of melted dark chocolate, and a small dish of sugared berries.

Before I can fully take it in, I hear a door click open, and when I turn, Vic steps out of the other bathroom. No shirt. Just inked, glistening skin. His pajama pants hang low, revealing just enough of his dick print to make my mouth go dry.

We both stop and drink each other in. His gaze darkens as he rakes his eyes over me, and when I open my mouth to speak, he crosses the room in three long strides and kisses me.

His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against his body, his warmth branding me through the thin lace of my slip. His tongue sweeps against mine, savoring the taste of me.

When we finally pull away, we’re breathless, and as a means of distraction, I reach for the champagne and lift my glass with a smirk. “A toast to you, Chef Grimes.”

He raises his glass against mine, eyes locked on mine. “Tous, Ms. Kind.”

We sip, never breaking eye contact, the bubbles tingling against my lips, then when he sits and pats his hand on his thigh, I climb onto his lap, straddling him as his hands instinctively fall to my hips.

“Comfy?” He asks, lips brushing my ear.

I hum, dragging a finger along the edge of his jaw. “I think so.”

His fingers flex against my waist, pulling me just a little closer as his thick erection continues to swell in between my legs.

The tray of desserts sits next to us, untouched, until he reaches for a gold-dusted chocolate truffle, rolling it between his fingers before bringing it to my lips.

“Open.” He whispers.

I obey without hesitation, my lips parting just enough for him to push it onto my tongue. I don’t chew it right away. I let it melt, savoring the rich chocolate before swallowing. Then, my lips brush his fingertips, licking the last trace of chocolate from his skin.

He’s now fully erect, perfectly situated under my wet, aching core. Trying to maintain my control, I find myself panting, breathing hard and fast with even the slightest movement.

Vic reaches for another treat—a small pastry drizzled in warm caramel. I go to take a bite, but as he brings it to my lips, a slow, sticky trail of caramel drips down my chest, between my breasts.

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “You trying to start something you can’t finish, Ms. Kind?”

I swallow hard. “Maybe I want you to finish it for me.”

Vic smirks, then slowly licks the caramel from my chest. His tongue drags over my heated skin and trails the sticky sweetness between my breasts.

He takes my nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue over the stiffened peak.

“Oh, fuck,” I exhale, dragging my fingers through his hair.

Vic releases a muffled groan. His lips latch, suck, and tug while his hand dips between my thighs, finding me soaked, ready, and desperate for him.

He presses his thumb against my clit, circling and teasing, while his fingers slide in just enough to make me whimper and clench.

“Ride my hand, Kerry.” He commands, his voice so deep and raw it sends a pulse of heat straight through me.

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