Page 43 of Undeniably Unexpected (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #6)

“Look at me,” he commands, and when I do, when our eyes lock, he sucks hard on my clit and I shatter, my orgasm pulsing through me in waves that make me cry out his name over and over.

My pussy clenches and I thrash, nearly falling into the sink, but I don’t even care.

Before I’ve fully recovered, he’s standing, pulling me off the counter and forcing me to turn around to face the mirror.

His chest presses against my back, and I’m bent until my tits practically meet the cold stone.

His erection is hard against my ass, and I remember how his finger felt there and moan.

“Does Victoria Nightshade write anal sex?”

Oh fuck. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“Yet you haven’t tried it?”

“Not yet.”

He groans and rings his tongue by my ear. “First your cunt. Then your ass. Can you handle that?”

In the mirror, I look debauched—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, hair a wild tangle of red. Behind me, Loomis looks focused, intent, his hands moving to my hips.

“Without a doubt,” I tell him, wanting to experience it. Wanting it with him. I said if I gave him that piece of myself it was going to be more, but now more is all I want with him.

“I want you to watch,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you to see what I see.”

I nod, unable to form words. One of his hands slides up to cup my breast, while the other positions his cock at my entrance. He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust, and we both groan at the sensation.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, his lips against my ear. “So tight. So wet for me. My cunt. Say it.”

Oh my god. I’ve never said something like that.

He smacks my ass. Hard. “Say it, Keegan. Tell me what I’m fucking.”

“Your cunt. It’s yours.”

In the mirror, I watch as a devilish smile curls up his sexy-as-all-hell face.

He begins to move, his hips establishing a rhythm that builds steadily in intensity.

I can’t stop staring at his face. The concentration.

The pleasure. My gaze wanders down to my own body, more than a little turned on by how my breasts bounce with each thrust, how my lips are parted in continuous small gasps and moans, and how my eyes look drugged with pleasure.

“My girl. My woman. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.”

“Always” escapes from my lips, and it does something to him.

He growls and starts fucking me harder, pounding into me until all I can do is brace myself on the counter.

I bend forward, climbing up onto the balls of my feet, and giving him more of my backside to encourage him in at a deeper angle.

And that’s everything. The heavy pace of his fucks and the way he’s able to bottom out inside of me bring this to the next level.

He fills me over and over. I never want him to stop. I never want this to end. I almost don’t want to come it’s that good.

“Fuck, darling. You feel so incredible. I can’t…” Pant. “I can’t hold off much longer. Touch yourself,” he demands. “Rub yourself as I fuck you. I’m not coming until you do, but I’m so close.”

I don’t need to be told twice. My fingers find my clit and circle in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation quickly pushes me toward another climax, and he feels it. He feels me growing tighter and wetter, closer.

“Fuck,” he roars, his hands on my hips so he can slam into me.

“So. Fucking. Good.” Somehow, he increases his pace, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks I can’t wait to discover tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice strained with his own approaching orgasm. “Let me see you come again, my love.”

The endearment, so casual and so profound, tips me over the edge. I come with a cry that likely wakes the entire hotel as my body clenches around him. He follows almost immediately, burying himself deep inside me and stilling as his forehead presses against my shoulder while he pulses and empties.

For a moment, we stay like that, connected, catching our breath. In the mirror, we couldn’t look more different. My pale, freckled skin against his tanned, inked body, my red hair a stark contrast to his blond, both of us gleaming slightly with sweat in the soft bathroom light.

Loomis pulls out gently, turns me to face him, and kisses me with surprising tenderness given what we’ve just done.

“Take a bath with me?” he asks, and I nod, suddenly aware of the pleasant ache between my legs and the slight tremble in my thighs.

He keeps an arm around my waist as if he knows I’m not quite steady.

The bathtub is enormous, a testament to the extravagance of the hotel suite.

Loomis turns the faucets, adjusts the temperature with careful attention and adds some of the hotel’s bath salts, filling the steam-warmed air with the scent of lavender.

His hands trace lazy patterns on my back. “You are,” he says between kisses to my neck, my shoulder, the sensitive spot behind my ear, “by far and away the most fun I’ve ever had.”

“You’re just saying that because I let you fuck me on the bathroom counter,” I tease, but there’s an uneasiness beneath my words that I can’t quite hide.

None of this feels real. I’ve been so set in my head that he’d never want me back—hell, he never did until now—that I’m scared tomorrow he’ll wake up in a panic the way Alden did and end this.

He pulls back and makes me look at him. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because I’ve known a lot of people in my life, Keegan, and none of them have ever made me feel the way you do. Am I coming on too strong for you? Are you shaky with me already?”

The sincerity and vulnerability in his eyes make my throat tight.

“No. I’m not shaky with you. I just have trouble believing it’s real.”

“We’ll both get there.”

I kiss him instead of answering, pouring everything I can’t yet say into the press of my lips against his.

When the bath is ready, he helps me in first, then slides in behind me, his legs bracketing mine, his chest warm against my back.

The hot water is a balm, soothing muscles I didn’t realize were tense.

Loomis’s hands, though, are anything but soothing as they wander, explore, and reawaken desire I thought temporarily sated.

His fingers pump into me again and I start to get lost.

“Again?” I half-snort when I feel him hardening against my lower back. “How do you get hard this fast?” Seriously though. It’s a legit question because once is never enough for him and our second rounds are usually right after our firsts. Not that I’m complaining.

His laugh vibrates through me. “It’s you,” he answers easily. “I’ve only been like this with you. I can’t get enough. No matter how many times I’ve had you, I always want more.”

I turn in his arms, water sloshing over the edges of the tub as I straddle him. His hands move to my hips, steadying me, his eyes locked on mine as I position myself above him.

“Good,” I say, lowering myself onto him in one slow, deliberate movement.

He groans as I take him completely, his fingers tightening on my hips. “God, you’re perfect.” The words catch on a gasp as I begin to move. “I love fucking my cum back into you.”

I know this. I’ve realized that and it’s seriously so goddamn hot.

“Give me more of it. Fill me with it.”

He groans a low, “ Fuuuck ,” that makes my toes curl.

This time is slower, more deliberate, less urgent, but no less intense. It’s not anal as he said he wanted, but I don’t think he cares. The water creates a different sensation, a buoyancy that lets me control the pace and the angle.

Loomis watches me with wonder, with hunger, with something that looks like reverence. “You’re so beautiful.” He pushes my wet hair back from my face and over my shoulders. “Especially like this. Especially when you take what you want and I’m buried deep inside of you.”

I roll my hips, drawing a moan from both of us. “What I want is you,” I tell him. “Just you. And Fen.”

“While I love hearing that more than anything, can we not mention my son when I’m inside of you?”

I snicker a laugh, but it cuts off when his hand slides between us and his thumb finds my clit.

“Oh!”

“You like that?”

All I can do is nod. The added sensation makes me quicken my pace, chasing the building pressure. Loomis thrusts up to meet me, the water splashing rhythmically against the sides of the tub.

“Come for me,” he urges, his thumb circling faster. “One more time, love. Let me feel you.”

My climax builds slower this time, but when it comes, it’s deeper, more all-encompassing.

Pleasure floods through me, and I clench around him, falling forward and pressing my face against his chest. He thrusts up into me faster, harder, chasing his own release, and when he finds it, when he growls and grunts and swears, a fresh pulse of aftershocks shoots through me.

I sag completely against his chest, even as he rolls up, still pushing himself into me.

It’s so primal and possessive, and I clench, despite being totally spent.

His arms come around me, holding me close, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my ear. The water has cooled slightly, but I don’t care enough to move, and he doesn’t seem to either.

“We should probably actually bathe at some point,” I murmur against his skin, but I make no move to separate from him.

His laugh is soft and intimate. “Probably,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But not just yet.”

We stay like this, entwined in cooling water with him still inside me, both of us suspended in a moment that feels impossibly close to perfect. Knowing it likely is.

After all, don’t all good things eventually end?