Page 71 of Beauty & Chaos

“Your pussy is magnificent.” He growls and slides his tongue down my neck.

“Don’t be ridiculous, look at it,” I say with a lot less punch than a minute ago because the feel of his body on mine, his mouth sliding down my body and sucking on my nipple... Well...fuck that mountain.

His face is between my legs. “I’m looking.”

For the following thirty minutes, I could be in lower Manhattan or here in the Swiss Alps and it wouldn’t matter. I cry out his name when my first orgasm crashes through me, thendraw in a gasp when he grips my wrists, restraining me with one hand as he slams inside me with his morning wood.

After he comes, I get my arms back and loop them around his neck. “Good morning to you, too.”

“I’m going to feed you then we’re doing that again.”

“Aren’t we skiing?”

“Do you ski?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?”

Travis snorts as if that was a stupid question, then flops down onto his back.Finally,he turns his head and takes in the view. I snuggle against him, and his arm loops around me, tucking me into his side and together, we take in the jaw-dropping, snow-covered sight.

“I just wanted to impress you so I could have sex with you more.”

“Honestly, a pair of Louboutin’s from their latest collection would’ve worked just as well.” I press my smile against his chest, trying not to giggle.

His cheeky eyes drop to mine, sparkling playfully.

I’m well aware I haven’t been this happy for a long time, and it’s a little terrifying. Especially because it’s not real. But it’s how I feel, and that’s real enough for me.

Our gaze remains locked, a fuzzy feeling building between us, and I watch his mouth part as if he’s going to say—

Travis suddenly climbs out of bed.

Did he feel that?

Or am I being manipulated? The private jet, the sexy, muscular man, the romantic suite, and the white mountainous paradise that towers over us.

Probably.

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TRAVIS

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WE HEAD DOWN to the restaurant for breakfast and sit by a window after walking around the luxury hotel. Brook hasn’t taken her eyes off the mountain, and I get it.

I like watching her as if I’m the giant that placed it before her and should pound my chest and say,me did that.

Fresh fruit, poached eggs, crunchy bacon, and freshly baked sourdough are delivered to the table along with coffee and cream.

“If I were a billionaire, I’d live like this every day,” Brook says, biting into the bacon, grinning.

“How do you think I got the billions?” I sip my coffee and slide my eyes over her wool-covered breasts. I might not be able to see her cleavage, but I know what her pink nipples look like, and with a wink, I can make them hard.

I think I might be addicted to having control over her body. Cancel that—I am.

There’s no thinking needed.

The answer to my question? It’s not by vacationing at absurdly expensive holiday resorts.