Page 33 of Knot Your Sugar

"James…" I start, but the words die. It feelstoogood.

"Just continuing the 'pampering and relaxation' process, Elena," he whispers, his lips close to my ear. "You won this, remember?" His hands move lower, tracing my spine, ignitinglittle fires on their path. The attraction that's been simmering between us flares to life in the intimate warmth of the hot spring.

My breath hitches as his fingers dance along my ribs, then slide around to my stomach, pulling me back against his chest. I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my back and smell the tiniest hint of… bergamot?

"Elena," he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. "About that… proposition."

I tilt my head back, looking up at him. "What about it?" I whisper, my voice husky.

"How about," he says, his gaze dropping to my lips, "weconsummateit. Right now."

"James—"

"No pressure," he says quickly. "Just... if you want it."

And the thing is, Ido. There's something liberating about the honesty between us. No pretense, no unrealistic expectations.

When his lips meet mine, it feels like the most rational decision I've made all week. It’s a slow, deliberate, exploration that tastes of minerals and desire. His hands slide over the bare skin of my waist, pulling me closer still, until there is no space left between us. It’s intoxicating. And letting go is… exactly what I want.

His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then down my neck, sending shivers cascading through me. One hand cups my breast through the thin fabric of my swimsuit, his thumb stroking, teasing, until a soft gasp escapes me. He's lowering his head toward my breast, his intention clear, when a tiny sliver of additional rationality kicks in.

"Wait," I breathe, my hand coming up to cup his cheek. He looks up, his eyes dark with desire.

"I want things to be crystal clear," I say, my voice a little shaky but firm. "My conditions. If we’re doing this… 'arrangement'…"

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Lay 'em on me, sugar."

"One: In public, at the festival, this is purely for show. Professional, supportive partners who happen to be dating. Plausible deniability for everyone."

He nods, his thumb now tracing lazy circles on my hip. "Agreed. Though I reserve the right to look at you like I want to devour you. For authenticity, of course."

I roll my eyes, but a thrill goes through me. "Two: What happens in private… like this…" I gestured vaguely to our current, very intimate, situation. "only whenIwant it. WhenIinitiate. Or at least, when I clearly reciprocate your initiation. No pressure, no assumptions."

His smile doesn't falter. "Your call, Elena. I can be surprisingly patient you know."

"And three," I take a deep breath. "This ends when the festival ends. Clean break. No drama. We go back to being former competitors."

He's silent for a moment, his gaze searching mine in the dim, star-dappled water. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing mine. "Done, done, and done." His mouth claims mine again, deeper this time, more possessive. Any further thought of conditions or consequences dissolve.

His hands roam my body, tracing every curve with a hungry precision, teasing and igniting my skin. With a deft flick, he unhooks my swimsuit, the fabric sliding away as his mouth finds my breast, hot and insistent. A sharp moan escapes me, my body arching into the searing heat of his touch.

James moves lower, his lips grazing my skin as he sinks beneath the steaming surface of the hot spring. His hands grip my hips, steadying me as his face disappears under the water. Then, his mouth is on me, his sharp tongue swirling with relentless skill, each flick and stroke sending jolts through my core. The heat of the water mingles with the fire he’s stoking, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

His tongue sharpens its focus, circling with deliberate, teasing pressure, then dive into a rhythm that’s both merciless and precise. My fingers dig into his shoulders, my body tensing as waves of pleasure build, each one crashing harder than the last. The heat of the water, the slick press of his lips, the relentless dance of his tongue… it’s too much, too perfect. My vision blurs, my moans turning to desperate cries as the tension coils tighter… and tighter… until it snaps. A shattering climax rips through me, my body trembling uncontrollably, hips bucking against his mouth as I come undone, my vision whiting out.

Okay, Elena, I think, a wild, shuddering pleasure surging through me as his tongue slows, drawing out the aftershocks.This time, you are definitely not falling asleep.

* * *

The car door closes with the soft, expensive thunk of German engineering. As we glide through the winding mountain roads back toward Lakeview, the ride is so smooth I could probably perform brain surgery.

I let my eyes drift closed, my skin still tingling with warmth from the shower James and I shared before leaving the spa. Just thinking about those fifteen minutes under the rainfall shower head makes my cheeks flush. The things that man can do with his hands and mouth…

My lips curve into a satisfied smile as I replay how I returned his mouth performance in the hot spring, watching his eyes roll back as I… as we—

"Ms. Avery?"

The driver's polite voice snaps me out of my increasingly R-rated recollection.

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