Page 173 of The Holiday Clause

She moaned, too tired to speak or open her eyes.

“I want back inside of you.” Carefully, he adjusted her legs and filled her once again.

She breathed with him, rocking into the soft covers as he thrust slowly. His mouth kissed down her throat to her chest, where he suckled her nipples.

He touched her with primal, predatory need. Pinning her arms in whatever position he wanted and driving his cock into her as if seeking her soul.

It was greedy and unapologetic, but she loved every second of it. When she looked into his blue eyes, she swore the devil stared back. He was made to sin, but never once stopped worshipping her.

The sound of slapping flesh became the only crescendo she knew. He yanked her closer whenever she neared the end of the bed, and kissed her softly to balance out the times he got rough. But he was never too aggressive. He was never more than she could handle. He was Greyson. This was him. And she wanted all of him.

Tonight, she finally got her wish.

He warned her. He told her he’d mark every inch of her, and by the time he was through, not a single spot of her flesh was untouched.

“Look at you. I wish you could see what I see.” His fingers trailed down her sticky stomach, and her breath hitched when he grazed her swollen folds. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

A weak laugh muffled past her lips. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” He dropped to the mattress and pulled her against him. “Do you hate me for it?”

“No,” she murmured into his arm. “I love you for showing me this side of yourself. I love all of you, Greyson.”

He was silent for a long moment. “I love you, too, baby. I love you, too.”

CHAPTER 26

“No better reason for us to rush this holiday crush, I wanna be cuffed”

Wren prancedinto The Haven Monday morning, her heels clicking a triumphant rhythm against the polished floors. Energy crackled through her veins like champagne bubbles.

“Good morning,” she sang, her voice carrying the honeyed warmth of a woman thoroughly fucked for the first time in thirty years. “How was everyone’s weekend?”

“Not nearly as good as yours, apparently.” Lilly sipped a macchiato from a signature juice glass.

“I did have a great weekend.” Rich, dark caffeine perfumed the air. “Did Freya add something new to the menu?”

“Oh, this? No, the CEO dude made it for me.”

“Mr. Drummond?” Wren’s brow furrowed. “Have all of his charges been calculated?”

“Not yet. He’s decided to extend his stay.”

“What?” Wren’s smile plummeted. “Why?”

“He said he’d finally started to understand the charm and wants to grasp the immersive experience more fully. A guy like that could really help us, Wren. He invests in companies all over the world.”

“We don’t need any help.”

“I mean, not right now. But all those expansion plans you discussed? That stuff’s expensive. Getting involved with a venture capitalist like Greg might not be bad.”

“Greg?” Feeling like this was rehearsed, Wren stiffened. “Lilly, what we discuss in meetings is private. Mr. Drummond doesn’t understand the first thing about disconnecting from screens and reconnecting with nature.”

“That’s why he wants to stay. He wants to understand.”

“Well, he’s welcome to shop the service menu, but we’re not looking for investors.”

“You can tell him yourself. Here he comes.”