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I lay back on the couch, drained and blissed out, and everything was fuzzy as he rose onto his knees to plant a surprisingly gentle kiss on my lips.

“You’re right,” I murmured. “You’re good. That was,” I swallowed a breath, “impressive.”

His soft laugh gave me an aftershock of pleasure. “Thank you.”

Our kiss was slow and deep, like he wanted to give me plenty of time to recover. His hands slid around me and pulled me to sit upright so he could fit me around him. It was nice being in his arms. My body began to cool, but his was still hot, and I could feel the effect my orgasm had caused in him.

His considerable erection pressed between my legs.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t reach down to undo his slacks and try to alleviate the ache he was surely feeling. He didn’t rub his body against my naked one or make room so I could fit my hand between us and touch him. Was this all the temptation he could handle for one night?

When the kiss ended, he pulled back and let his fingertip trail down the hollow of my spine, causing me to shiver. What was that look in his eyes? It deepened until it was darkly sexual, like a wolf who’d finished eating his kill but discovered he was not yet satisfied.

“Do you think I’m done?” His eyebrow lifted at the same time as the corner of his mouth. “Because, Emery, we are just getting started.”

ELEVEN

VANCE

For the second time since arriving in Monaco, I slept next to Emery with my clothes on.

She was still naked, but disappointingly hidden under the covers. Her brown hair was splashed across her pillow, and as she slept, my gaze drifted over her pretty face. She hadn’t taken her makeup off last night, so her dark eyeshadow was messy and left a faint smudge on the white pillowcase beneath her head.

One could argue that was my fault. After I’d gone down on her on the couch, I’d guided her into our bedroom and showed her a second time how much I enjoyed using my mouth and fingers to make her come. Thinking about the way she’d squirmed and twisted the bedsheets in her hands while my head was nestled between her thighs would have made me hard—if I wasn’t already.

Jesus, I needed relief.

After her second orgasm, she’d put her hand on my fly, tried to get in my pants, and I’d nearly given in. I wouldn’t survive if she had really touched me. Instead, I pulled her hand away and laced our fingers together, distracting her with a mind-numbing kiss.

She’d asked it when I’d brushed the shell of her ear with my lips. “You don’t want me to—?”

“Not tonight,” I admitted.

Because I didn’t want to break my vow, or beg for sex, but also—it seemed easier to resist losing control when all my focus was set on her. If we were going to spend the next fifty-six days not having sex, it was probably best to pace ourselves with the other stuff.

So, I’d collapsed on the bed beside her and drifted off to sleep with a painful hard-on, trying not to think about how the vagina-themed wallpaper was mocking me or that a gorgeous woman was just out of reach. Now it was morning, and Emery looked so sweet and peaceful as she slept, I squashed my selfish thought of disturbing her to take a peek beneath the covers.

The hardwood floor was cold under my feet as I got out of bed and padded into the dressing area. As we got closer to the race on Sunday, our schedule would be more hectic, and I needed to stay focused. There was the new app HBHC was rolling out for Europe, and although I wasn’t in sales or promotion, my last name dictated I attend the launch and say some nice words about the team who’d developed it.

As I stripped out of my wrinkled clothes, my mind wandered to the girl I’d left in the room next door. My girlfriend. The first real one I’d ever had. Last night at the lounge, I’d come looking for her, and when I discovered her with Leitner, something like panic short-circuited my brain.

Royce and I had grown up under our father’s oppressive rule. He’d told us everything we had came from him, and my brother and I had learned not to get attached to anything. Macalister Hale owned everything, and it could be taken away from you at his whim.

Yes, he’d changed since his time away, but my paranoia had lain dormant for years, and it came back with a ferocious roar when I spied Emery’s hands on Leitner. She’d smiled at him in a way I wanted her to save for me. Fuck, I couldn’t lose her . . . especially when I hadn’t even had her yet.


Tags: Nikki Sloane Filthy Rich Americans Billionaire Romance