“We’ll have a manager running the day-to-day operations of the businesses. The contractors will consolidate the residence as you specify. That’s what the design and architecture apps will help with. I’ve got one of the top designers in Chicago coming in to work with us. He’s a friend of mine and he’s the best in the business. And we’ll renovate this space into a larger yoga studio for you, if you’d like to.”
“We will?”
“You can run classes or just use it as a retreat. Whatever you want to do.”
It’s too much. His words—the beautiful ones and the dirty ones—and now this. “Why did you do all this?” I whisper.
“I told you why. To make you happy.”
I reach up to touch his face. The stubble of his beard is rough. I let my fingertips skim the sculpted line of his jaw.
“Do you like your presents?” Hopefully. Like maybe there was a possibility that I wouldn’t. His arrogance retreats and his expression is almost dazed. “I love your face. You’re like a little wood nymph from a magical forest. And the curl of your hair is so sweet. And the color of your eyes, how they change depending on how mad you are at me. I love everything. I couldn’t have dreamed you up, sweet Luna.”
This is going to require risk, of course, the kind of risk that can make or break a person. But to hell with that. What isn’t a risk? This is a risk you’ve been putting off for five fucking years over an innocent mistake, I fully realize in this moment. It’s a risk you’re going to grab with both hands and run with. “I love the presents, Gage. Of course I do. Thank you.”
“I want to give you everything. For you, I want to be the best version of myself.”
“You don’t need to be anything you’re not. And you really didn’t need to do all this.”
“I did need to.”
“So I guess … all bets are off now.”
“All bets are way, way off, sugar pie.”
My phone, which is somewhere inside my comforter, rings. I fish it out. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’m your Uber. I’ve sent you four messages. I’m waiting outside.”
“Oh. Yeah, thanks … but I’m not going to need that ride. My plans have changed.”
“Right. Well, I’m going to have to charge you the cancellation fee.”
“Oh. Sure. Sorry to take up your time like that—”
Gage takes the phone out of my hand and ends the call.
His warm hand eases over the nape of my neck, under my hair, and he kisses me. His mouth is hungry, catching succulently at mine. His tongue sinks into my mouth and a low sound escapes him, like he’s overcome. “Don’t ever be scared of me.” His rasped voice is low and sexy. “I’m going to do everything and we’re going to take each other to the fucking stars and it’s going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to either one of us. Don’t hold back from me. Give me everything.”
“Okay.”
His eyes are deep and dark with his need. “I’m going to have to find out how wet you are for me now, baby. I can’t fucking take this anymore.”
He peels the comforter from around me and sees that I’m dressed in my yoga outfit. There’s not much to it, just a pair of tight little shorts and a fitted bralette.
I hear a strangled-sounding sigh that’s almost a groan. He’s staring at my clothes, or lack thereof.
I look down at myself. “What?”
“You’re wearing your yoga outfit.”
“Yes. And?”
“I’m going to come around twelve times before I calm down, honey. I’m so fucking hot for you, you’re just going to have to get used to me losing my goddamn mind every five seconds.”
Gage lifts me up and carries me to my bed.
He lays me back and kisses me again, more deeply this time, holding himself over me. There’s a blend of contradictions about him. The over-confident swagger that’s wild and almost dazed with desire. The big, wide-shouldered, perfectly proportioned physique that’s, despite all his fierce strength, somehow completely at my mercy. His dark hair with its gold effects from the dawn light is messed up from his obsession. For me. And I suddenly feel a transformation take hold. The Gage effect, I’m calling it. I trust him. And I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything, more than safety or assurances.
I’m shamelessly wet for him. My panties feel saturated. As he kisses me in a lush, slow frenzy, I suck on his tongue.
He groans. “I’m about to come already, baby.”
His hand holds my face, his thumb brushing against my lower lip as his tongue delves into me, probing and stroking against mine. The taste of him, like an alluring, exotic drug. His kisses are lewd and greedy as hell and I know this is how he’ll make love to me. Relentlessly, taking everything. He kisses me until I’m simmering with heat and weak with lust. Until I’ll give him absolutely anything he wants. He lays himself over me, letting me feel the hard textures of his desire, pressing his stunningly-rigid erection against my flushed, squirming body.
Gage kisses his way down my neck, biting gently, licking with his tongue. I know he’ll leave marks. He’s rough, I’m learning, but also tender. Those contradictions again, so I never know quite what to expect. He’s reading me. Every sigh, every quiver.
His thumb brushes over my nipple through the thin film of my bralette. He squeezes and tugs until I moan. Then he roughly pulls the fabric up, releasing my breasts, which feel full and warm and sensitive. He pulls the fabric up to my wrists, where he binds me, hooking the tightened tie to a curved wooden detail of the bedhead. My hands are tied.
His big, warm hands squeeze and cradle my breasts, nuzzling the coarse surface of his beard against my soft skin.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
His tongue flicks against the underside of my nipple, playing it lightly, and I arch up to him. His hungry mouth eases over the budded peak, sucking strongly, biting, twirling with his tongue. He feasts on my breasts, one then the other, like he’s drinking some kind of spiritual sustenance from my body. Each rough tug deepens the sweet ache in my nipples, shooting deep channels of warmth to my core. With each pull of his mouth, my clit throbs lightly. If he keeps doing this, I’ll come, just like this.
He’s impatient. He licks his way down my stomach lustily, licking and gripping me with his strong hands. I can feel the warmth of his heavy breath as he kisses my stomach. It’s ticklish and I giggle and squirm. He holds me down, doing exactly what he wants. His tongue dips into my belly button and I laugh and writhe in protest as a fresh wave of wetness coats my pussy. I can feel his smile against my skin.
He licks his way to the top edge of my shorts, grabbing it with his teeth, pulling my shorts lower. As he does this his fingers skim, finding the wet spot. “Damn, baby, you’re wet as fuck. You want me so bad, don’t you, sweet girl? You want my big cock to slide all the way inside and make you come hard, I know you do. Now let me see you. Let me taste nirvana before I lose my fucking mind.”