Page 107 of Severed Rivalry
Cian
The least I can do is provide an option for those I will soon put out of work. Phoenix will rise, but I don’t know our operating capital yet. We’ll see. My network will step up for the employees worth hiring. The average ones will weed themselves out.
Sariah
The rising sun is warming my eyelids when Cian spoons into me. He’s fully dressed and I’m… naked.
I don’t sleep naked. I never have. Growing up, that was too risky. At Randy and Rosie’s, I was young, and it would’ve been weird. By the time I had Renée, it was unthinkable. So, the smooth, high-thread-count sheets below me and the sweatpants folded behind my knees and whatever the logo is on Cian’s tee has me wiggling.
His lips hit the top of my head. “Morning, Angel. Your hair smells like citrus and vanilla.” He hums as he kisses the ball of my shoulder. “But your body smells like sex.”
I push my ass back into his warmth. “How did you sleep?”
“Like a man with a full heart and an exhausted cock. So, really, really well. You?”
“I don’t remember sleeping this well since— Where’s Renée?”
“She hasn’t made a break for it. So she’s wherever you left her last night. Guest room, I’d guess.” He reaches around to lace his fingers with mine and pull our joined hands to my chest.
“Do you want to sleep in? Or would you like a shower?”
I stretch long like a cat in a ray of sunshine. “Both?”
His laughter shakes me. “All right. Get some rest.” He kisses my shoulder again. “I’m jumping in the shower. You could always join me…” He lets the sentence drift off as he exits the bed, leaving my skin warm, but the air around me cool in his absence.
The shower switches on, and I roll toward his pillow, his scent lingering. I could stay here for days and never leave. But then I’d have to explain to my daughter why I’m in his bed.
And I’m so not up for that with a mind as sharp as hers and a tongue as witty. Tossing back the covers, I roll toward the wall ofwindows and exit the bed. I’m sore. My thighs, my calves, my insides. In the best possible ways, I feel our connection from last night.
I pad to the bathroom and push open the double doors. I was shocked when I saw it last night. But I’m more so now. The room is huge. White, gleaming marble and shiny clear glass. The huge free-standing tub sits next to the shower that could easily fit four.
Cian stands in the center, jets hitting him from all directions. His eyes are lasered on me as he soaps his abs with his hands.
I lick my lips and prolong the moment. I use the water closet before pulling open the large glass door and stepping into the steam and flowing heads. The moment I do, Cian pulls me to his body and drops his mouth to mine. I might as well be folded over his arm in a backbend he deepens the kiss so much.
“Morning, Angel. I could get used to this,” he offers when he breaks the kiss.
“Morning, Ci. This would spoil me. I’d become miserable if I got used to this luxury.”
“Then I plan to help you rot.” He scrunches his face. “That was sexier in my head, but not sexy at all out loud.”
I laugh. “I got the gist.”
Tilting my head back, I let the water flow over my head and hair and sluice down my body. I open my eyes to see him staring hungrily at me. “What?”
He shakes his head. “I keep wondering when you won’t look more beautiful, but every time I see you, you take my breath away.”
He moves closer, grabbing the shampoo and squirting a dollop into his palms. “Turn around.” His voice is gravelly and deep, and I do as he orders, stepping away from the mist and spray near my face, and right into his broad chest.
When his hands meet my hair and scalp, I moan. This has always been my favorite. There’s something luxurious in the act. At the center of my back, I feel Cian’s hot length expand. My second moan is as unintentional as the first.
He spins me to face him and fists my hair in his fingers, tilting my head back. His eyes are hot, and his pupils areovertaking his irises as he leans down. “Fuck, Angel. What you do to me.” He kisses the column of my throat.
I’m getting wet… and not from the showerheads.
With one hand, he pulls my hair. The other trails over my flesh in a slippery dance of torment. Fingertips circle my nipples and slide away, eventually landing between my legs. He enters me with two fingers and twists. The soreness there mixes with desire and wetness floods me. My hips move of their own accord, seeking pleasure and release.
I’m awash in sensation when he moves me. A pulsing shower head jet teases my nipples one at a time only to be replaced by his mouth. He sucks deep before scraping his teeth across me. I lift on my toes, whether to escape or to get closer, I don’t know.
