Page 92 of The Innovator

She glanced up with amusement. “If you can think while I’m pleasing you, then I’m not doing a good job.”

“You’re doing an extraordinary job. I love it.” I swallowed and licked my dry lips. “I’m just spewing nonsense about what I know about the philosopher . . .” A loud groan escaped me as her pink tongue tantalized my crown. “Logic isn’t here right now . . .” I couldn’t think when she took me into her wicked mouth.

Fucking hell. A bolt of sensation shot through me, spreading fire to every part of my body. My abdomen constricted with her ravenous mouth and talented tongue.

“Baby, slow down. I want to be inside you.”

She released me, her big blue eyes meeting mine. “I’ve been craving you.”

“Same here.” I nudged her back down to the tub. “Tell me about the sinful stuff you were thinking about before I showed up. It turns me on.”

I braced a hand on the ledge behind her head, while the other hand skimmed along her elegant shoulder, moving down her body. She widened her thighs, welcoming me.

My mouth covered hers in a wild kiss. Her arms looped around my neck, pulling me closer. Tongues, teeth, and lips collided in a whirlwind of sensations. My hand found her center, soft, silky, and ready for me.

Drawing back, I smirked and teased her opening, earning several moans. “Tell me if this defines Descartes’ meaning of existence to you, buttercup.” I inserted two fingers into her, moving in and out.

“Not yet,” she gasped, flicking me a provocative look belonging to a hellion. “More.”

How could I resist a demand like that? Removing my fingers from her warmth, I drove into her, pounding like a madman with one mission: to please his woman. To see the sultry look in her eyes, to feel her muscles tightening around me, and to hear the alluring sounds, it all turned me into a damn philosopher at this moment.

Everything I felt for her defined my life.

“How does this feel now?” I nibbled on her earlobe.

She gyrated her hips, moving in a fast rhythm with me. Water and petals ebbed and flowed between us. “I think . . .”

I didn’t want her to think. I wanted her mind empty of everything but me.

She cupped my face with her hands and looked me in the eye. Her body quivered, and I knew she was close to ecstasy.

I pumped harder, deeper, wanting more of her. She breathed with unsteady gasps as our wet bodies slapped against each other. I loved every sound that left her mouth, including the sated expressions splashing across her face.

“You . . . make . . . me . . . feel . . . worthy . . . of my existence . . . Grayson!” she cried out as her body trembled.

I sensed the orgasm ripple through her body and into mine. It was as though she gave me a part of her pleasure. Fucking glorious.

I crushed my mouth to hers as heat and need collided. The tension rose and exploded, sending me off the ledge. I saw stars as my body bucked from the potent force that blasted through me.

As the pleasure descended, I pulled out and shifted behind her so I could gather her into my arms.

“I didn’t know French philosophers were so kinky.” I kissed her head. “Descartes was a wise man, after all. By incorporating his philosophy, you took sex to a new level. This could be our new thing.”

She laughed. “I didn’t know architects were so pervy.”

“Buttercup, I’ve become so many things because you arouse the hell out of me.”

We spent another hour in the tub exploring the many ways to apply philosophy to sex. After dinner, we continued our exploration and discovered how Voltaire, Rousseau, Michelet, Confucius, and LaoZi made our bedtime stories irresistibly sinful.

To be honest, I never loved a woman in this way. It had never occurred to me that philosophy and sex were so hot together.

While she slept, I thought about the new revelation regarding her father’s plane crash. The burden on her shoulders had grown, and I wanted to remove it for her.

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

NATALIE

We’d been back in Providence for a week, and I jumped into working on my Momentum collection while waiting to hear from the French authorities regarding the plane crash. Mom’s lawyer had requested an investigation into the accident, claiming that an anonymous tip had come to one of the victim’s family about the plane’s engine being intentionally sabotaged.

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