Page 19 of Sin Wager
"This is all so beautiful," she says, gesturing around the room. "Everything here is perfect. Do you ever feel lonely in all this space?"
The observation surprises me. Most people see wealth and assume satisfaction, but she's identified the emptiness that expensive things can't fill.
"Sometimes," I admit. "Success can be isolating. People want things from you—money, connections, favors. It becomes difficult to trust anyone's motives."
She sets down her glass and turns to face me fully. "Is that why you brought me here? To figure out my motives?"
"I brought you here because I want you here…"And I need to connect the dots that put you in my path, Vera… The longer I spend around you, the more likely you are to open up and the more fully you'll trust me, too. Only then will I be able to dismantle the Radich plague behind you.
"What if I disappoint you?"
I reach out and brush my fingers along her jawline, feeling her skin warm under my touch. "Impossible."
She leans into my hand, her eyes fluttering closed. "I keep thinking about what you said at dinner. About teaching me to put myself first sometimes."
"What about it?"
"I want to learn. But I don't know how to stop taking care of everyone else long enough to figure out what I want."
"What do you want right now?"
Her cheeks flush pink, but she doesn't look away. "You. I want to kiss you."
The confession is honest and vulnerable. I slide my hand to the back of her neck, feeling the soft skin beneath her hair, the rapid pulse at the base of her throat.
"Are you certain?"
"I've never been more certain of anything."
When I kiss her, she responds immediately, her hands finding the front of my shirt, gripping the fabric as if she needs something to anchor her. The taste of cognac on her lips makes me want more—more of her mouth, her skin, her soft sounds of pleasure.
I break the kiss and stand, extending my hand. She stares up at me for a moment, her lips swollen, her breathing uneven. I may be risking the entire mission by pushing, but I want so much more than just kissing. My dick is rock hard, and I need release.
"Come with me."
She takes my hand without hesitation, letting me pull her to her feet. Her legs are unsteady—from the wine, from the cognac, from the way I'm looking at her. I steady her with a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress.
I lead her through the house, past the dining room with its table that seats twelve, past the library with its floor-to-ceiling shelves, past the home office where I conduct business that would terrify her if she knew the details. The master suite occupies the entire east wing, accessible through double doors of frosted glass.
The bedroom is spacious but intimate, dominated by a king-sized bed dressed in Italian linens. Another wall of windows looks out over the gardens, but these are fitted with automatic blinds for privacy. Moonlight streams through the glass, causing silver patterns on the hardwood floors.
"It's beautiful," she breathes, taking in the space.
"So are you."
I turn her to face me, my hands settling on her waist. She looks up at me with a mixture of nervousness and desire that makes my pulse quicken. Her skin glows in the moonlight, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
She rises on her toes and kisses me. It's soft but insistent, and I wonder if she's ever done this. But I don’t back away. I deepen the kiss, my hands moving to explore the curve of her spine through her dress. She arches into my touch, a soft soundescaping her throat. When I find the zipper at the back of her dress, she goes very still.
"Breathe," I murmur against her lips.
I lower the zipper slowly, my fingers tracing the line of her spine as more skin is revealed. She shivers under my touch but doesn't pull away. The dress is well-made but simple—nothing compared to the designer gowns I could buy her—but on her body, it looks perfect.
"You're trembling," I observe.
"I'm nervous. It's been a long time since…"
"Since what?"
