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extremely sensual, breathtakingly intuitive, knowing exactly what I needed when I needed it. Her
demands were equally challenging, a spine-melting edge to her dominance that led to the most intense climaxes I’d ever experienced in my life.
Besides the sex, touching her was my second favourite thing. In those moments between
conversation, when the only sound between us was the quiet warmth of the cabin, the crackle of the
fire, and the storm raging outside, my soul felt...right. My heart as close to contentment as I could manage.
I hid a smile as she moaned—I’d hit a particularly tight muscle.
‘If I didn’t hate the idea of robbing the world of your unique talents, I’d seriously consider hiring you as my full-time masseur.’
‘I’m that good?’ I smiled.
‘You know you are,’ she murmured, a small smile curving her beautiful lips.
My gaze dropped to the luscious curve of her lower lip reddened from wine and kisses, my blood
heating up. She clocked the look and gave a wider, smug smile in return. Arching her beautiful body, currently clad in one of my white T-shirts, thong and nothing else, she leaned forward, ran her fingers down my jaw. ‘I’d love to shave you,’ she murmured, a definite savouring in her tone.
The stubble I’d kept when I arrived at the cabin had grown into a short beard and, just like my hair, she loved to play with it. Now she wanted to shave it off?
‘I thought you liked the friction between your thighs?’
‘I do. But I like the idea of shaving you even more. I’d use one of those old-fashioned blades, take my time with you.’
I stared at her, trying to work out which kink she had in store for me next. Much more than delayed gratification, she liked to keep me guessing. Not that I minded anything she’d done to me so far.
Everything we did culminated in a wild and new experience. I was swiftly becoming addicted to it.
To her.
I glanced out of the window, sending out a silent plea for the storm not to end just yet. I needed a few more days of this. Hopefully by then, this wild fever in my blood would’ve abated. Enough for
me to let her go with no hard feelings?
My gut knotted, a hollow sensation taking up residence in the pit of my stomach.
‘Tell me another story,’ she softly commanded, relaxing against the cushions again and taking a sip of wine. ‘Tell me about your very first assignment.’
I grimaced. ‘I’d rather tell you a different story,min elskerinde.’
Her eyes sparkled, intelligence scheming in her eyes as she stared at me. ‘You know evasion
merely triggers my curiosity, right?’
Yes, I’d discovered that about her. But I didn’t want to delve into this particular subject.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why don’t you want to tell me?’
‘Because my first assignment was professional and also deeply personal.’
Her eyes widened. ‘And you can’t tell one without the other?’
I shrugged. ‘I could, but it wouldn’t be much of a story.’
She waited, one finger trailing along the rim of her glass.