Page 79 of Bargains with Benefits
I opened the oven a final time, pulling out the muffins and setting them on the rack to cool.
“You helped me realize I had magic,” I started. “You stood by me while I figured out what to do about my father.”
“Forced you to speak with the father you thought had abandoned you to get the promotion you requested for your inn,” he said, giving me a winning smile. “Not my finest hour.”
I pulled him to me, loving him for that. For how we’d met, the bargain we’d struck, and how our relationship had evolved. Turning to face him fully, I let the thought send butterflies through my stomach, and further words lodged in my throat.
“Luna?” he said, reading the change in my features.
I reached up to push a strand from his face. His wind wrapped around my hand as I did so, though it left me the actual work of running my fingers through his thick brown hair. When they slid to his neck, I pulled him down for another kiss.
“I love you, Vincent,” I said.
He stared at me, mouth gaping like he was a fish. I wanted to laugh, but I was also feeling too much to stomach it. This male. He was everything I needed and hadn’t known I was searching for. We might have been opposites—he might like fine things and proper etiquette, I might like to dance to the beat of my own drum—but his resistance to changing me, to trying to force me into the mold of his past successful recommendations, was part of what had made me realize the value of my uniqueness. I wanted to tell him that. I wanted to explain everything in detail, but when I tried to put the words together, they were a jumbled mess in my mind. The only clear words, the only words that expressed the sentiment I felt, were the ones I said.
“I love you, Vincent,” I said again.
This time, he shook himself free from his stupor.
“I love you, too, Luna.” He leaned into my space, pressing our foreheads together. “I never dreamed I’d find someone as right as you. Someone who challenges me while encouraging me to be the best version of myself, whatever that looks like.”
His wind surrounded us, blowing my hair from my face as Vincent stooped to kiss me.
“I love you,” he said again, quieter, as his lips found their way to my neck.
He paused his progress and glanced over my shoulder. He must have realized the muffins were out of the oven and I was free to leave the kitchen. At the same moment, his hands slid behind my thighs, and he hoisted me into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist again. He carried me to the next room, the office.Ithad a lock on the door. My heartbeat raced in anticipation as he kicked the door closed behind us and slid the bolt into place.
Once it clicked, he had my back on the desk, and he leaned over me for another deep, scorching kiss.
“I love you.” He tested the words again like he wasn’t sure he could say them freely.
I smiled, running my fingers over any part of him I could reach as he shifted me to lift my skirt. I helped, and then a needy whine slipped free as his delicious weight lifted from me. He didn’t leave me wanting, though, as he fell to his knees at the corner of the desk. My skirt was free to lift with the last shift. His hands ran over my skin, my calves, my thighs, my hips. Each movement had my body heating and squirming in anticipation of his next. He teased me mercilessly until his mouth finally pressed against my center, a layer of silk still separating him from where I needed him most.
My body trembled in anticipation as he slid the fabric out of the way and circled me with his tongue. Need overcame me, and I fell back against the desk. “Touch me, please,” I said, my voice breathy.
He chuckled. “I am touching you.” His voice was low and rumbly in a way my Vincent’s usually wasn’t.
“You know what I mean,” I hissed, thrusting my hips toward him.
His laugh was decadent this time, a noise I wanted to hear a thousand more times. “So greedy,” he said as his finger plunged inside.
My back bowed, and his mouth was on me all at once. I gasped and writhed as his lips, tongue, and fingers worked in tandem to stoke my pleasure. It was like he’d studied every hitch of my breath, every twitch of my body, each reaction to his every languid stroke our first night together. He was an artist, and I was his greatest work. The satisfied tilt of his lip grew along with my pleasure.
“Pleased with yourself?” I breathed between strokes of his tongue at my center.
“A little,” he said when he came up for air. He swirled his tongue around my clit. “I love learning what winds you up.” Hepaused, watching me. The intensity of his gaze had me as light-headed as the work of his fingers and tongue. His smirk grew, and before I could question it, he pounced, sucking hard precisely where I wanted him. I exploded. A moan escaped, and my back arched impossibly farther toward him. His fingers plunged into my heat as he coaxed me through my release.
I was a puddle against the desk, and I could only hope no one was around the office. My cheeks heated as I realized I had not been at all quiet.
His lip tilted into another smile as if reading my mind. “It’s an inn. It could have been any of the guests.”
“In the office?”
He shrugged. “You never know, with the scenery…”
I crooked a finger at him, and he brought his face to mine for another kiss. “Might as well keep going. Let everyone know all are satisfied at Cliff House Inn.”
“Such service,” he replied huskily as I grabbed his cock, exploring the silk and steel of him. I was thinking a girl could get used to this. Then I couldn’t think of anything as our bodies joined, and all I knew was ecstasy.
