Page 129 of The Contract

She’s still fighting it.

Still keeping herself from surrendering completely.

I reach between her legs, sliding my fingers along the silk of her panties, groaning at the heat, at the unmistakable wetness soaking through the fabric.

“Fuck, baby.” My voice is rough, full of raw, aching need. “You’re so fucking wet.”

She shivers, barely parting her legs for me. Just a fraction.

Not enough.

Never enough.

I pull the nightgown over her head in one smooth motion. The black silk joins her robe on the floor, leaving her bare before me.

Jesus Christ.

She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

My hands grip her thighs tighter.

“Lay down.”

It’s not a request. It’s a command.

My hands frame her torso, my lips ghosting over her skin as she slowly reclines, her back meeting the cool surface of the piano.

She gasps at the sensation, her skin pebbling, her body arching slightly, instinctively, as if already reaching for me.

I trail my palms over her, fingers tracing the delicate dip of her waist, the soft curve of her hips.

Up, over her ribs, teasing at the underside of her breasts before moving down again, savoring every inch of warm, flushed skin.

When I reach the thin straps of her panties, I hook my fingers beneath them, dragging them down her legs, slow, deliberate.

She lifts each foot, helping me.

Fuck, she’s perfect.

I press my hands to the insides of her thighs, coaxing them open, baring her to me completely.

She’s stunning like this—laid out on my piano, bathed in the glow of the city skyline, breath shallow, pupils blown wide with need.

And I’m about to ruin her.

I dip my finger into the cheesecake once more, scooping just enough to spread across her skin, dragging it downward, watching her shudder.

Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, filled with something raw, something desperate.

“Damien.”

A plea. A prayer.

She’s losing herself, and fuck if I’m not right there with her.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

I rub the cool, decadent mixture over her clit—slow, deliberate circles—spreading it across the delicate bundle of nerves. The contrast between cold and heat makes her body jolt, a strangled moan escaping her lips.

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