Page 34 of The Billionaire's Secret Desire
His words send a jolt through me, a mix of desire and something else—something darker, more primal. I open my eyes, meeting his gaze, and see the raw hunger still burning in them. My heart races, my mind spinning as I try to process the intensity of the moment. He’s not just fucking me—he’s claiming me, and the thought makes my core ache all over again.
He lowers me to the floor, his hands never leaving my body, his touch possessive, almost desperate. I step back slightly, needing space to breathe, to think, but he follows, his presence overwhelming. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
“Sawyer,” I start, my voice unsteady. He cuts me off, his lips pressing against mine in a kiss that’s both tender and demanding. I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment, letting the emotions wash over me. But as the kiss deepens, as his hands move to the buttons of my dress, I hesitate.
I push against his chest, gently at first, then firmer when he doesn’t immediately respond. He pulls back, his brow furrowed, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice laced with confusion. His breath is heavy, and I can see the desire still raging in him, but there’s a hint of vulnerability too.
I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “I—I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “This is… a lot. It’s just…” I trail off, my gaze dropping to the floor. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and I’m not sure I’m ready for what it implies.
He steps back, his hands falling to his sides, his expression unreadable. The air between us shifts, the tension easing slightly, but the question hangs there, unanswered. I feel exposed, like he’s seen too much, felt too much.
I look away, my gaze falling to the floor as I try to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The momentis heavy, charged, and I’m not sure where to go from here. My heart is pounding, and my skin still feels electric from his touch.
Sawyer clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I—I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he says, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “I just had to have you and I couldn’t seem to hold myself back.”
I glance up, meeting his gaze, and see the sincerity in his eyes. My heart softens, the tension easing further as I take in the raw honesty of his words. There’s a desperation in him, a need that mirrors my own, and it scares me.
“I want you too,” I admit, my voice quiet but steady. “But this is new, for both of us. We need to… we need to take it slow.”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re right,” he agrees, stepping closer, his hand reaching out to brush my cheek. His touch is gentle now, almost reverent. “We’ll take it slow. But know this, Charli—I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”
His words send a shiver through me, a mix of desire and something deeper, something that makes my heart flutter. I lean into his touch, my eyes closing as I savor the moment, the connection between us. But beneath the warmth, there’s a current of fear—fear of losing myself in him, fear of what this could become.
The air in the stateroom feels lighter now, the tension replaced by a quiet understanding. But as I stand there, in Sawyer’s arms, I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning—of something intense, something that will change everything between us.
The yacht continues to glide through the water, the world outside oblivious to the storm that’s brewing within these walls. And as Sawyer’s lips brush mine once more, gentle and promising, I know that whatever comes next, it’s going to be a wild ride.
We get back to the hotel just after midnight. The island’s quiet, that perfect blend of still and warm, like even the stars are trying to eavesdrop. I expect Sawyer to say goodnight outside my door, maybe with one of those slow, lingering kisses that makes my brain forget how to function. But instead he shifts on his feet, scrubbing the back of his neck like a guilty teenager.
I arch a brow. “What?”
He clears his throat, glancing at the floor. “I’m just waiting for you to open the door so we can go to bed.”
I blink. “Like, and sleep?”
He nods. “Yeah. I mean—eventually, unless you don’t want to,” he adds quickly, then groans. “God, I’m bad at this. I’m not trying to push.” He strokes a thumb across my cheek, “But I have no plans to wake up tomorrow morning alone and tomorrow… I’m not pretending like tonight didn’t happen.”
Something soft unfolds in my chest. Vulnerable Sawyer? Yeah, that’s new. And dangerous.
I shift just enough to let him in, arching a brow. "Well, don’t just stand there. Get in before I remember how complicated this is getting."
His grin is boyish, unguarded. “Yes, ma’am.”
He follows me inside, setting his phone and wallet on the dresser while I kick off my sandals and stretch. “I need a shower,” I murmur, rubbing the back of my neck. “I smell like ocean and humidity.”
“Go ahead,” he says, already pulling out his phone. “I’ve got a few emails to knock out before I shut my brain off.”
I nod and duck into the bathroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The hot water is a godsend, washing awaythe salt, sweat, and adrenaline from the day. But it doesn’t wash away the thoughts.
What are we even doing?
I lean my forehead against the cool tile and let the spray drum over my shoulders.
Sawyer Gallo is in my hotel room. Wants to sleep next to me. Wants me, period.
Is this just a vacation thing? A fling wrapped in sunshine and private jets? Or is this real—whateverthiseven is?
Because this man makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room when he looks at me. He makes me laugh. He listens. He actually listens. And the way he touched me earlier, the way he said “you’re mine”... that wasn’t just lust. That was something deeper. Scarier.
