Page 103 of Point of Contention
“Cabot,” I whispered, “this isn’t a balcony.”
He pointed to the far side. “There’s a railing.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned as I finally forced myself out of my stupor and stepped out onto the massive deck. Immediately outside the floor-to-ceiling glass door was a large set up of chairs and couches arranged into a seating area that could comfortably seat a dozen people or more. To the right, a stone barbeque island, grill, and large bar area.
But straight ahead, the part that had me so enthralled, was the narrow swimming pool that stretched straight out in a long line and ended in an infinity style overlooking Central Park. “This is incredible.”
I spun around in time to catch him stepping out of his pants, then he looked at me with that wicked glint in his eyes and I knew I was done for.
“Cabot,” I warned, lifting my hands in front of me.
And then he charged.
And before I could dodge out of the way, his shoulder pressed against my stomach, arms wrapped around my waist, and we torpedoed into thew ter. I screamed, bracing myself for the icy sting of cold water, but instead, water so warm I barely even noticed the change in temperature surrounded me, splashing over my head in welcoming waves as Cabot and I sank to the bottom of the pool.
Then he kicked off the floor and pushed us back up, grinning from ear to ear when we breeched the surface.
I’d never seen him so playful.
Or this happy.
Once I caught my breath, I spun and wrapped my legs around his waist as he kept us afloat.
His eyes darkened, then he kicked to the side, and reached up to hold onto the edge with one hand, the other hand still wrapped around my waist. “Hold on to the side.”
I unwrapped my arms from around his neck and lifted them to grip the edge of the pool on either side of my head.
Smirking, Cabot dunked below the water and I squealed as he lifted my ass, wrapping my legs around his shoulders. When he surfaced again, his face between my legs, black hair plastered to his forehead and his impossibly thick eyelashes glistening from the water, he winked and pressed his face into my mound, licking me with demanding strokes, hard and fast. He gripped my hips painfully, keeping my pussy above the water, his fingertips digging into muscles sore from last night’s beating.
He dragged his teeth against my clit and I released a strangled moan.
This wouldn’t be slow and sensual; it would bepunishing.
Tilting my head back, I relaxed my body so it would float more easily and give him less to keep afloat as he treaded water like an Olympic swimmer.
And Olympic swimmer who was really, sinfully good at this.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cabot
A few minutes before my alarm was set to sound, I reached for my phone on the nightstand and turned off the alarm. Opening the app connected to my security system and smart home management, I hit the button to draw the curtains open and placed my phone back on the charging dock.
I’d been awake for some time, staring at the ceiling while Rylan slept soundlessly beside me, stretched out on her stomach. She took up so much space in my bed that I’d been relegated to one small side of it and yet this development didn’t irritate me.
It thrilled me.
Everything had changed between us—once again—and as we pivoted into this new chapter in our relationship, I continued to be haunted by both my desires for the future, and my father’s schemes.
And the frightening fact that they lined up with one another.
He wanted to force me into marriage.
The more time I spent with Rylan, the more I aligned with my father.
I could see a future with her.
Iwantedthe marriage. Children.
