I’d never forget his masculine grunts as he hammered into me, the thick, hard feel of him as he filled me up. I felt like I wanted to die when he suddenly pulled out, but before I knew it, he was flipping me over and pushing me onto my back.

“I want your eyes,” he growled, lifting my thighs around his hips and driving back into me once more. He cupped my jaw in his hand, his thumb rubbing at my chin as he levelled me with his stare. He was beautiful in that moment, captivating. I wanted to look down, take in the sight of his gloriously chiselled body, but he wouldn’t allow it. He held me in place, never allowing my eyes to leave his, and something clutched at my chest and throat. It was an emotion I wasn’t quite sure I could identify: sharp and stingy but warm and lovely at the same time.

King’s expression grew serious. “Do you feel that?” he asked on a laboured breath.

All I could do was nod, and in the next second we both seemed to understand that we were completely and totally screwed. No way was this going to be a one-time thing. Already I wanted to crawl beneath his skin and never leave.

“You’re so beautiful, Alexis. You feel fucking beautiful on the inside, too.”

“Oliver….”

“Yes, darling?”

“Will you come for me?” I asked, my words a desperate plea.

“Anything for you,” he whispered, his movements slowing down but growing in intensity. He seemed to get even harder as his climax built, and just as I saw he was about to come apart, I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him desperately, swallowing all of his noises, letting them become a part of me. I felt him spill into me, groaning low and gravelly as he came hard, his body shaking a little with the effort. A soft layer of perspiration coated his skin as his delicious weight fell on top of me. His arms went around my body, pulling me to him tight and squeezing as he rested his face in the crook of my neck.

I stroked his hair, and he moved us into a more comfortable position so that his entire body surrounded mine. Feeling him plant light kisses to my neck, I let out a little purr of approval as his hand went between my legs.

“You think you could come again?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

“You’re exhausted, Oliver. Go to sleep.”

“But my hand is jealous of my mouth,” he whined playfully. “It wants to feel you come, too.”

My tender laugh soon transformed into a low moan as he started to stroke me. His fingers circled my clit, then dipped inside. I shifted and felt his cock begin to harden again next to my arse cheek, and already I could have gone another round. My body was sleepy, though, so I was content to simply lay there and let him work me up.

“I knew it would be like this for us,” he purred. “Effortless.” His other hand came around and palmed my breast, moulding it and then pinching the nipple. He began rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tight peak, the motion matching his fingers as they stroked my clit. In the next moment, I was coming with a stark cry. King murmured soothing words in my ear and I turned into his body, cuddling him tight and pressing kisses to his pectorals.

Soon after, we both closed our eyes, and then it wasn’t long before sleep pulled us under.

Twelve

I woke to a warm mouth on my thigh.

Oliver King’s head was between my legs as he kissed and licked. I stared down at him, and he gave me the most handsome of smiles.

“Morning, love,” he said, voice scratchy from sleep.

“Morning,” I murmured. “What ya doin’ down there?”

He let out a low groan. “Teasing you, I’m afraid. I wish I could stay here all day, but unfortunately I have a breakfast meeting with Hirota in forty minutes. I need to shower.”

“We could share one,” I suggested, and he groaned again.

“Sharing one will last a whole lot longer than I have time to spare. I may lure you into taking a bath with me later, though.”

“In that case, I looked forward to being lured,” I replied, and King pressed one final kiss to my thigh before leaning up on his hands and bringing his mouth to mine. Our kiss grew hungrier than expected until we broke apart, breathless. King hummed and rubbed his thumb over my lower lip, eyes fixed on my mouth as he spoke.

“I’ll need you later, but take the morning. There’s a beach just a short walk from here,” he suggested as he rose from the bed and began picking up his discarded clothes from last night.

My interest piqued. “There is? I haven’t been to the beach in years.”

King walked back and placed a final kiss to my temple. “Then go. Enjoy yourself. I’ll see you later.”

He disappeared through the adjoining doorway to his room, leaving me slightly flabbergasted. I’d half expected him to be distant this morning, withdrawn after he’d finally gotten what he wanted. Put it down to my experience with a whole bunch of real charmers in the past. But no, King had been warm and affectionate with me; it was almost like he’d completely forgotten the whole one-time agreement we’d made.

I glanced out the window to find it was an unseasonably sunny day, perfect for a trip to the beach. Hopping up from the bed, I went and took a quick shower, then packed my bag. I put my swimsuit on, red with a ’50s vintage cut, and wore a light flower-print dress over the top with some sandals.

I definitely caught a few odd looks from the locals as I made the quick walk from the hotel to the coast, as they clearly didn’t consider it beach weather. Having lived my entire life in cold, rainy London, though, it was positively tropical to me. As expected, there weren’t many people around. I spread a towel out on the sand, slipped on my sunglasses, pulled my dress off over my head, and lay back to soak in the rays.

An hour or two passed in blissful peace as I listened to the waves crash against the shore. I never got to hear these sorts of sounds back home, only traffic and honking horns.

Sensing a presence, I opened my eyes and slid my sunglasses down my nose. King sat next to me on the sand, his chin resting in his palm and a thoughtful expression on his face as he stared out at the water. He looked a million miles away, and the fact was confirmed when I said his name but got no answer.

“Oliver,” I repeated, and saw him blink.

He turned his head. “I thought you might be sleeping, didn’t want to wake you.”

“Wouldn’t it be kind of dangerous to fall asleep on a public beach?” I asked, but he only shrugged and turned his attention back to the sea. I sat up, reached forward, and placed a hand softly on his arm.

“Hey, are you all right?”

Either he didn’t hear my question, or he chose to ignore it. “I envy those with clear consciences,” he murmured, as if to himself.

What he said made me frown. “Why wouldn’t your conscience be clear?”

His eyes flicked to the side as he realised he’d voiced his sentiments out loud. A long breath escaped him. “Bad luck and circumstance.”

“You’re one of the luckiest people I know,” I whispered. Yes, his mother was unwell, but aside from that he had a pretty spectacular life.

Turning, he levelled his eyes on me, and they seemed so much more beautiful with the sun glittering through them. “My luck is only on one side of the mirror,” he murmured, and reached out to caress my cheek. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all morning.” His words and his touch made me shiver.

“I’ve been thinking about you, too.” What I said made him smile, but there was a sadness behind it. I wanted to find its source, snuff it out. He was having these episodes more and more lately, melancholy mixed with random philosophising.

“Mr Hirota is going to sign the contracts tonight. He’s invited us to his villa for dinner. Did you bring a dress?”

“Of course. I always come prepared.” I smiled and crawled over to kneel in front of him, placing my hands on each of his shoulders. Staring at him head on, I said, “A problem shared is a problem halved. Whatever’s been troubling you, you can tell me about it. No judgement.”