Page 62 of Secrets, Lies and Love

She looks at me again. “Because I can’t fall in love with you. Two weeks is too long.”

“And in this ridiculous timeframe you’ve proposed, you think you can give me everything I want?”

“I don’t know what you want, but I’ll be yours for anything.”

I look at her, still not believing what she’s saying. “Are you bluffing? Because if we make this deal, we’ll stick to it, Cecily. You will only have one day with me. No concessions. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, that’s enough,” she replies stubbornly, and her self-confidence drives me crazy.

“So from now on, you are mine.” I don’t give her time to think, pulling her to me by the hand and making her let go of the robe she was holding.

The first contact of my palm with the bare skin of her back makes us both moan, the feverish desire no longer containable.

Surprising me, Cecily throws herself into my arms, pulling my head down, hungry and hurried. Small hands glide across my neck, jaw, and chest. She doesn’t seem to know where to touch first, and her need is like gasoline on the fire that consumes me.

“Anything?” I ask, completely insane.

“Everything with you. I’m yours,” she says, just seconds before I grab her by the jaw and devour her mouth.

The lust I feel for her leaves me disturbed, beside myself, desperate for her touch and taste. I have her face in my hand, and with the other, I pull her wet, naked body against mine.

I don’t kiss her. I fuck her mouth, consuming her whole with greed and savagery.

Right now, I don’t give a shit about deadlines. The only thing I know is that Cecily will be mine. She’s already mine.

She responds eagerly, burning in the same fire as me, offering me her mouth in an infinite kiss, where tongues and teeth duel for control, but at the same time, surrender and give in.

It’s not a rehearsed intimacy—there’s nothing elegant or calculated about the way we touch. It’s raw hunger, which has been cooking over low heat.

Unbridled desire, demand, precision, urgency.

Cecily rips off my shirt and bites my chest.

I growl and she smiles. She does it again, as if she owns me. As if she has teased me her whole life and knows how to drive me crazy.

“I want you in my bed.”

“I don’t care where. Just don’t stop.” The water has dried from her silky skin, leaving behind sweat, the result of lust and fever.

While I devour her mouth, my hands delight in the curves of her body. “I’m going to fuck you so deep that you won’t remember what it was like before I was here,” I promise, sliding my hand down the center of her thighs.

I reach the soaked peak, and she goes up onto her tiptoes, eager. However, I have other plans and pick her up.

She deserves so much more than a rushed fuck, even though there’s nothing I want more than to take her here, standing up, because my desire is one step beyond out of control.

Instead of heading to the bedroom, however, I head to the pool.

I set her down as we approach the water, step back, and begin to undress.

Cecily is embarrassed but doesn’t look away. “Aren’t we going up?”

“Not yet. I fantasized about having you naked, at my disposal, here. You’ve only given me twenty-four hours, but there won’t be a place in this house that you’ll go without remembering me taking you.”

“I won’t remember. I don’t even like you that much, to be honest. It’s just desire,” she teases me because we both know it’s precisely the opposite.

Even though I don’t want commitment, the biggest obstacle so far has been precisely this: we like each other beyond sex. From the little mutual pet peeves to—on my part—the way she confronts me without giving a damn about who I am or how much money I have.

“You don’t like me?” I ask, hiding a smile as I pull down my boxers, the last missing piece, and my cock springs out, thick, and erect.

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