Page 23 of Overnight Inheritance

“What was that?” he murmured beside her ear. “Was that my name you were trying to say?”

She started to reply but broke off as he gently sucked at the sensitive skin on the side of her neck, and, this time, had no trouble remembering to say his name. Every nerve ending was sensitized, every inch of her skin yearning for his touch. The hand he’d placed between her legs began to move in a slow, rhythmic pattern, and the hand still inside the cup of her bra explored, gripped, caressed. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder and she melted into him. Her entire universe was Sebastian—his hands, his mouth, his hard body behind her.

“Sebastian,” she whispered, unable to summon her full voice, but needing to say his name, to add the extra layer of connection between them.

“An improvement,” he murmured, “but I think we can do better.”

The toe of his shoe nudged her feet farther apart as he slid a long, strong finger down low, then another, moving into the slickness he’d created, driving her out of her mind. Her knees buckled, and the hand at her breast moved down until his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, taking her weight onto his frame. Near her ear, his breathing was ragged as he talked dirty and whispered sweet nothings in equal measure. She tried to focus on everything she was feeling, to commit it all to memory. Since their deal was for this one night only, she wanted to remember every second. But it was no use—she was too lost to sensation, overwhelmed by the rising, swirling currents inside. And as her world came apart, his name was wrenched from her throat, the only word that made sense, the only thing that seemed real.

For long moments, she simply stood, the sound of her harsh breathing filling the room as she leaned back against him. Once she could breathe freely again, she opened her eyes and turned in his arms. “That was...”

“Yeah,” he said with a satisfied smile. “It was.”

“And now it’s my turn.” She pushed against his shoulders, and he dropped his arms.

He cocked a brow. “You can barely stand on your own.”

“I’m recovering fast,” she said, grinning.

She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed the fabric back over his shoulders and down to his wrists. She paused as she undid the cuffs, then he slid his arms free. The shirt hung from his waist, its tails still tucked into his trousers and secured by his belt, but she didn’t care; she had free rein to explore every inch of the warm olive skin of his chest. She ran an exploratory hand over the crisp hair covering his pecs, down over the solid muscles of his abdomen, loving the way his breathing matched her movements.

Leaning in, she allowed herself the luxury of pressing a kiss to his collarbone, then the base of his throat. His pulse throbbed there, strong and fast. She slid her hands down his sides, bringing them to rest on his hips, and they anchored her as she explored his chest with her lips, her tongue, her teeth. She dropped lower, onto her knees, and felt a shudder run through his body.

Clasping the zipper, she undid his trousers and let them pool at his ankles, then hooked her thumbs in the sides of his briefs and lowered them to the floor. As she leaned back, he stepped out of the discarded clothes, shoving them to the side. Looking up, she met his eyes and then took a moment to let her gaze roam down, over the expanse of skin on display, and her breath caught high in her throat.

Then she brought her attention to his erection, encircling it with one hand as the other rested on the solid muscles of his thigh. The skin was soft and burning hot, and as she moved her fingers lightly, Sebastian groaned and speared his fingers through her hair.

She looked up and smiled. “Let’s see if I can make you saymyname.”

Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth and he gasped. She experimented a little, looking for sensations and rhythms that he liked, peeking up at his face to gauge her success. His eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling quickly with every breath.

“Mae,” he said, his voice tortured, and she grinned.

She leaned back, releasing him, and before he could question her or complain, she gently pushed him back onto the bed. She wanted him stable for what she had planned.

His eyes flashed to hers, but she crawled onto the bed with him, over him, and his mouth curved into a lazy smile. “Come here,” he said, then he pulled her close and groaned.

The scorching heat of him against her bare skin sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept her eye on the prize. “Not a chance,” she said, smiling back. “I’m going to finish what I started.”

She kissed a trail over his chest, down his stomach, her nails scraping across his abdomen as she went. And when she reached his erection again, hot and solid in her hand, in her mouth, she returned to her experimentation, more confident now that she knew how he liked to be touched.

“Goddamn it, Mae, you’re going to kill me.” She glanced up to find him propped up on his elbows, watching her, his blue eyes dark with desire, his jaw tensing and releasing.

She stopped what she was doing long enough to echo his words from earlier. “A good use of my name, but I think we can do better.”

As she took him into her mouth again, her fingers and palms working as well, he flopped back onto the bed, groaning. It was gratifying to know that he was as powerless and as lost to need as she was.

As his need built, she watched his beautiful body fill with tension, his muscles cording, and his arms moving restlessly, from cradling her head, to grasping handfuls of the bed covers, and back to tangling his fingers in her hair. As he found his release, he cried out her name, and she’d never felt so triumphant in her life.

Seven

The next morning, Mae walked downstairs, hoping that no one would guess from the smile she was attempting to hide that Sebastian had spent the night. She’d reluctantly sneaked him out the front door just after four o’clock, when everything was quiet. With a gentle kiss in front of the elevator, he’d whispered, “See you at work,” and was gone. Sleep had been impossible after that—she’d lain awake replaying every second of their time together.

She ran into Heath at the front door. He mainly spent his nights at Freya’s place, but in the mornings, when she left for her job as a forensic accountant at the FBI headquarters, he headed over to Sarah’s. He and Sarah were still going through various business files and legal details about the inheritance during the day, and she’d be doing that this week with them too, if the opportunity to shadow Sebastian hadn’t come up. She loved her brother and was coming to love her aunt, but this time with Sebastian? It was precious—and not only because she stood to learn the ropes of the company she’d partially inherited.

Heath held up a paper bag. “I come bearing bagels.”

She snatched the bag and opened it to draw in the scent. “See, this is why you’re my favorite brother.”

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