Page 68 of Reveal Me
I smile against her sex. ‘And I thought I was in control.’
‘Neither of us is in control when we’re together.’
Isn’t that the truth?
Her fingers dig into my shoulder blades as she tries to drag me up the bed. I don’t need dragging when it comes to sliding my cock in her. I push against her dripping entrance and slide into her, kissing up her neck, along her jawline until I find her mouth. Her hands settle on my ass cheeks, fingers biting into the skin, thrusting me deeper into her. She’s so goddamn responsive. So fucking perfect. She’s everything I never knew I needed.
I feel the tiny pulses of her pussy fluttering on my cock, dragging me over the edge with her. She shatters, and I swallow her moans. They mingle with my own as white-hot pleasure tears through me. Pleasure and a sublime sense of something else.
Contentment.
As she lies on my chest, I stroke my fingers through her hair as she sleeps. It occurs to me this is the first time in years I’ve had vanilla sex. But with Layla, there’s nothing vanilla about it.
Chapter Thirty
LAYLA
Sean has snuck into my bedroom every night for the past three weeks. The sex has been epic, but the most epic thing ever is having his body curl protectively around mine, feeling his warm skin against mine, hearing the soft soothing sounds of his breath as he sleeps. I never fully appreciated how alone I felt until suddenly I wasn’t.
Twice, Kat almost caught us. Thankfully, I managed to stall her while Sean slipped out the window. Friend or not, this new development will alarm her. It’s one thing to have a bit of fun with the billionaire next door, and another entirely to fall in love with him. I’m alarmed about it myself—by the intensity of my feelings for him.
The nights have shown a tenderness, a deeper level of intimacy to the raw, animalistic sex we’ve had at Reveal. The second he leaves, my body aches for him. I need his touch, his kiss, and his undivided attention. And I need it like a heart needs a beat. I don’t care if it’s kinky sex, crazy sex, or sleepy sex, I’ll take it. But after a week of vanilla-ish sex, I can’t wait to see what he’s going to unleash on me tonight at Reveal.
Unfortunately, I have to get through an afternoon withLord Finegan Montgomery first. He’s finally back from his business trip, and the pressure is on. My mother sprung this surprise on me at nine o’clock this morning. Sean had already left. I didn’t have the heart to call him and break his. It’s just tea. It means nothing. It’s another duty–one he’ll at least be spared from witnessing. That’s what he asked for, wasn’t it?
Like my mother did before me, I’ll sit here and think of England. The only difference is, my legs will remain firmly closed—until tonight, at least.
I’m doing this for him. For us. To buy us more time. Because unfortunately, we’re running out by the hour. Sabrina’s wedding is rapidly approaching. My mother will want me home for the preparations any day now, unless I can prove to her that there’s something worth staying here for.
There is, of course. Just not what she’s hoping for.
I would stay here, given half the chance.
Mid-afternoon, Kat knocks on my studio door. ‘Lord Finegan is in the drawing room.’
‘Fantastic.’ My sarcasm isn’t lost on her.
‘Do you want your parents to send the jet for you, or not?’ Her fair eyebrows wing upwards.
‘Fine. I’m coming.’ I slide off my painting overalls and go upstairs to change. The scent of Sean’s cologne lingers in my bedroom. Or maybe it’s in my nostrils because Kat hasn’t mentioned it.
For today’s dull date, Kat laid out a midi-length dove grey dress. It’s fitted and elegant without trying too hard, which is precisely the point. She’s teamed it with my grandmother’s pearl strand and matching studs, probably at my mother’s request. I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman, and my mother still picks out my outfits for me. Well, some of them at least. I pull my hair back into a sleek sort of chignon. I barely recognise this version of myself anymore.
I make my guest wait a further ten minutes beforedescending the wide sweeping staircase to greet him. The drawing room door creaks as it swings open. Lord Montgomery pounces from the vintage sofa to his feet, raking his hand through his blond, short, wavy hair. Piercing blue eyes land on mine.
‘Princess,’ he bows his head.
‘Lord Montgomery,’ I stride across the room and extend a hand to shake his. He glances up as he brings it to his lips and brushes a kiss on the back of it. At six foot two, with an athletic frame, Lord Montgomery is infinitely more attractive than I remembered. Or maybe he’s simply grown into the man that he was always meant to be. Still, he has nothing on the man living in my head each day, and my bed each night.
‘Please, call me Finegan.’ His voice is deep and polished in that clipped, expensively educated way of our world.
‘Very well, Finegan. It’s a pleasure to see you again.’ I’m lying obviously, although it’s not as painful as I’d imagined… so far.
‘Likewise, Princess.’ His startling eyes rake over my frame, and then he takes a step back, like he caught himself looking at something he’s not sure he can afford.
‘Please, have a seat. The staff will bring through tea shortly.’ I sweep a hand towards the couch, and he lowers himself to a sitting position again. I take the large chair beside it.
‘How are you enjoying Ireland?’ He begins. ‘I trust you’ve recovered from your migraine?’
