Page 46 of Vows of Deceit
Inside the villa, moonlight spilled across the bed as Grayson pulled her gently into his arms. They undressed each other slowly. Reverently. Like unwrapping something fragile and sacred. His lips brushed her shoulder, her collarbone, her jaw. She cupped his face, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers.
“I’ve never been more sure,” she breathed.
When he entered her, it was with a reverence that undid her. Their bodies moved together like they’d been waiting lifetimes. No performance. No pretending. Only tenderness. Cassie gasped his name, her back arching as pleasure coiled and burst like light behind her eyelids. He followed with a groan, holding her like she was something rare and precious. They lay tangled in silence afterward, breath syncing, hearts open.
Grayson kissed her temple. “Whatever this is, I’m all in.”
Cassie smiled against his chest. “Then let’s build it. One breath at a time.”
And for the first time in years, she fell asleep in someone’s arms without fear.
Chapter Thirty Eight
The Right Kind of Scandal
The sun poured through the villa’s open slats, casting golden patterns over the linen sheets tangled around their bodies. Cassie lay on her side, watching Grayson as he slept beside her, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that soothed something deep inside her. They hadn’t left the villa since yesterday.
Not once.
Privacy was a luxury in her world, but with Grayson, it felt earned.
Deserved.
Around midday, they made love again and this time in the outdoor shower, steam rising with each gasp, water cascading down sun-kissed skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him like he was the last solid thing she’d ever hold.
Later, they skinny-dipped in the crystalline lagoon just steps from their deck. The ocean was warm, inviting. They swam in circles, touching, laughing, teasing until laughter gave way to hunger again.
Cassie pulled him back inside with dripping fingers and kissed him breathless against the glass doors.
“I want more,” she whispered, voice dark with need.
His breath hitched. “More?”
Her lips grazed his ear. “No softness. Not tonight.”
His eyes flared.
Cassie led him to the bed and pushed him down.
“I need to remember what it’s like,” she whispered, climbing on top, “to take what I want. Not ask for it.”
Grayson’s hands gripped her hips. “Then do it.”
What followed wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was everything she’d buried beneath elegance and poise—raw, real, blisteringly honest.
He flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, her moans ripped from somewhere wild.
“Cassie...” he rasped.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Don’t hold back.”
And he didn’t.
