Chapter 21 There were only so many places for Bea to go, and her trail was easy to follow. She'd left puddles like breadcrumbs down the hallway in her escape. As I tracked her, I yanked off my wet clothing, adding to the water, no doubt ruining the wood floors. Normally, I would have cared. It would have driven me to distraction. But one flash of Bea's pale, creamy flesh in her black, lacy lingerie, and catching her was all I could focus on. I was a column of iron, and her giggles were magnetized, drawing me toward her. She'd gone to my bedroom-the last room in the hallway. There was nowhere else she could've gone. Down to my underwear, I pushed inside, finding her standing in the center of the room on the rug I'd left behind. "Found you." She grinned. "You've lost your clothes." "So have you." She crooked her finger. "I'm cold. Come warm me up, Salvatore." I went, but I took my time getting there. It couldn't be helped. I had to look at her, and if I went too fast, I had no doubt I'd trip over my own feet. The moon glinted off her like she'd been lit by design. Her skin gleamed silvery white, in stark contrast to her black lingerie. There was a name for the one-piece satin-and-lace contraption molded to her curves, but I didn't know it. I was more focused on the parts of her that weren't covered. Her legs were bare, and the way they brushed together when she shifted was mesmerizing. My gaze snagged on the supple give of her flesh, the subtle bounce. Everything about her made my fantasies vastly underwhelming. I trailed down to her feet, one slightly on top of the other. Her nails were painted dark red, and from where I stood, I could see her fine bones rippling as she flexed her toes. How was it possible for even her feet to be pretty? I didn't think about feet. Not anyone's. But I couldn't skip a single part of her. "Tore?" Right. I was supposed to be moving. Going to her. "I'm looking at you," I forced out. "Fine. I'll look at you too," she countered. The satin-and-lace garment clung to her like a second skin, hugging the generous swell of her hips and dipping at her waist before spilling over the soft rise of her belly like a trickling waterfall. Her breasts were barely contained in lacy cups, rising dangerously high with each breath she took. All I could think was how badly I wanted to bury my face there and forget the rest of the world. "Salvatore." Her voice cracked like a whip, snapping me back. Hands on her hips, the glare she shot me went straight to my spine. "Bea"-I cleared my throat-"you're beautiful." Her eyelids lowered to half-mast, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Thank you. Now, won't you be a good boy and come here?" Fuck. My cock throbbed in my briefs, and my brain kicked back into gear. I crossed the room and caught her. Curling my arm around her waist, I snatched her against me. She released a breath as we collided, her hands flattening on my shoulders. "I like the way you listen," she whispered. "Now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" We moved at once, our mouths seeking and finding. Kissing hard, deep, urgent. Grappling hands, touching, caressing. The game had been underway all night, bringing us both to this boiling point. This wasn't part of the plan, but when Bea was in my presence, I lost all sense of structure. She brought chaos with her and swept me into it. It was heady and overwhelming, blocking out everything but her. The now. The present. We kissed until standing became useless then fell into a pile on the thick rug, Bea on her back, reaching for me, taking my weight on top of her. Bracing myself on one elbow, I kissed and sucked along her throat, unable to get enough of her taste, the way she felt under my lips. Her raspy moans were nearly my undoing. What would she think if I came in my underwear without even touching her? I wouldn't be her good boy. That thought yanked me into focus, back to the warm, soft woman beneath me. Her wet hair splayed on the rug, the hair around her face already drying into ringlets. I touched those silky curls then her velvety cheek. She turned her head, catching my palm with her lips. "You can touch me," she said. "I don't think I have a choice." If she asked me to stop, I would. But I had her exactly where I wanted her, and nothing else would get in my way. I trailed a hand down her front, squeezing her breasts, the sharp point of her nipple like a pebble beneath my touch. She groaned when I squeezed her, arching for me. My hand slipped lower, fingers trailing along the smooth fabric of her lingerie, feeling the heat beneath the fabric. I didn't rush. I couldn't. She tilted her hips, just a little. An offering. An answer. I cupped her over the lace, engulfed by the warmth and softness of her thighs. I tapped my finger over her seam, making her breath stutter. "Can I?" Heavy-lidded eyes on mine, she parted her legs. "You'd better." I wouldn't disappoint her. Not ever. Hooking my fingers beneath the elastic edge, I dragged the fabric to the side, baring her to me. When I made contact with her wet, swollen skin, I shifted back, barely holding it together. She was pretty, sexy, glistening with desire. She moaned as I dragged a singular finger through her slick heat. I lifted my gaze to her face, watching the way her lashes fluttered, her mouth parted, her breath caught. She was in this with me. Just as needy. Just as turned on. I did it again. Slower. Deeper. She rolled her hips, chasing the friction, gasping when I circled her clit with my thumb while slipping two fingers inside. I had to take a deep breath, battling to control myself. My cock ached with need, but this wasn't about me. My focus was on the woman writhing beneath me-on giving her pleasure and satisfaction. "Tore-" Her voice broke on my name. "I've got you," I murmured. "I want you to come for me. Do you need more?" Her fingers wrapped around my arm. "Harder. Fuck me harder." I sank my fingers deeper. "Like this?" "Yeah." She raised her knees higher. "Keep going." I lowered myself over her, worked her with my hand as I sucked on the curve of her throat. Unable to stop myself, I rocked my hips, my clothed cock rubbing against her inner thigh. Her grip on my arm tightened, and she met my thrusts, crying, moaning, telling me I was getting it right. She didn't hold back. She let me see her. Feel her. "Yes, yes, yes." Her neck arched, insides tightened, and she fell. Fully, completely, lost everything. Her inner walls clamped around my fingers, keeping me deep within her, pleasure flooding her swollen channel. There was nothing like this. Nothing I had ever seen or known. That Bea was able to be so confident, seeking pleasure, not holding back her reaction, was no surprise, but watching her was unmatched. She had to have known I was hanging by a thread. As soon as her insides slackened, her eyes opened, and she looked at me. "Tell me what you need." There was a long list, but the most pressing throbbed between us. My commitment to take things slow had fallen by the wayside, but I would not take us any further, even if I ached to get inside her. "Can I come on you?" "Please." She released my arm, spreading her hand over her thigh. "Right here, baby. Let me feel it." I reached down, pulling my cock out of my underwear. I was so hard, it hurt to touch. "Yes, Tore," she whispered. Cupping her throat with one hand, I balanced on the other, guiding myself into the crease of her thigh where her slickness had spread. I thrust gently, controlled, every stroke a test. She was so slick and hot, I had to bite down on my tongue not to spill the second we made contact. "Jesus, Bea. Holy hell, what you do to me." She curved her arm around me and gripped my ass to pull me closer, urging me to go harder. Her moans vibrated against my chest, like she enjoyed this just as much as when I'd been touching her. "Give it to me," she cooed. "I want you all over me. Make me messy." Her husky, coaxing voice went straight to my head, and I groaned, wedging myself deeper into the cradle of her thigh. I was so close to sliding into her; if I shifted an inch or two, I'd be there. Not yet. Not now. This sweet torture was all I could bear. "You can't hide from me," I gritted out. "But it's so fun when you find me." Lifting her head, she nipped my chin. "Let go." There was no resisting her call. I kissed her hard, messy, desperate. Sliding my hand up her side, I cupped one lush breast and squeezed gently, thumbing over the nipple through the lace. She wrecked me. I jerked once, twice, then spilled against her, hot and helpless, my mouth open on her neck as I lost control. She held me tight as I shuddered through it, completely undone. I couldn't remember ever coming this hard, and she hadn't even touched me. It was her. Us. A culmination of missteps and longing, mistakes and forgiveness, and unabating desire had brought us here. She laughed, breathless and mischievous, cradling my head to her chest. I rubbed my face against her breasts then raised my head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay?" For most, her grin would have been answer enough, but she gave me the words I needed. "I'm not sure I've ever been better." It was funny. I didn't often find my feelings aligning with other people's, but I completely understood what she meant. I felt exactly the same. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!