Page 33 of Fighting Fate

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Page 33 of Fighting Fate

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“Now that,” Rosie said on a soft sigh, “makes up for a long and tiring day.”

Adam chuckled, a soft rumble vibrating through his big frame. He nuzzled her neck, before lifting her a little higher in the water and pressing kisses down her breasts. “Glad I could help you out.”

“You definitely did, but we should probably get out of this water so I can help you out.”

“I’m good,” he disclaimed, but she could feel his cock nudging eagerly at her thigh, hoping to get in on the action. “You’re tired.”

“Not that tired… though you’ll need to make the most of the next hour, because I do need to get a good night’s sleep in. There’s a big conference starting tomorrow and it’ll be all hands on deck right through the weekend.” She felt the need to apologise in advance. “I doubt I’ll be able to get away much.”

“It’s fine.” He walked towards the edge of the pool carrying her with him easily, though Rosie supposed she weighed a lot less in the water. Not that he seemed to have any issues with her weight out of it, that said. “Uh. Incidentally. Talking of the weekend. What day it it?”

She laughed, but she knew how easy it was to lose track in the island’s laid-back, holiday atmosphere. For Adam, every day must feel very much the same. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Gotcha.” He lifted her to sit on the pool edge, put his own hands down and pushed up, lifting himself out. She stared unabashed at the magnificent ripple of muscles across his chest and shoulders, the thick swell of his biceps, the corded power of his forearms.

“You are so cut,” she sighed happily. “This feels like I’m in some fantastical dream. Like I’ve fallen into a Hallmark movie.”

“Nah.” His grin was roguish as he stooped to scoop her up in his arms. “This is a lot more R-rated than anything they’d show.”

Very true, Rosie thought as he carried her inside, but it didn’t feel like a sleazy porno either. A tastefully expensive Netflix adaptation of a romance novel? She laughed at her own musings as he laid her down on the bed; a moment later she realised her hair was wet and reared up, almost headbutting him in the face as he leaned over her.

“My hair’s wet, with pool water! I’ll have to wash it or it’ll make the pillows foul - afterwards,” she clarified as she saw his face fall. Reaching up, she pushed on his shoulder playfully. “Lie down. I’ll go on top.”

“Oh hell yes please,” Adam said enthusiastically. He reached for the nightstand before rolling to his back, holding up the foil packet with a questioning glance.

Rosie plucked it from his fingers. “I got you,” she said, tearing the foil open. He was erect and ready, cock thick and standing almost straight up from the nest of dark curls at his groin. She curled her hand around it for a few teasing tugs, swiping her thumb over the drop of pre-cum beading at the tip. She grinned when he groaned aloud.

“Need something?”

“Tease,” Adam muttered thickly.

“It doesn’t count if I follow through, does it?” She smiled down at him, feeling bold and wild, more so than she’d ever felt in bed with a man. Adam made her feel that way, she thought, free to do anything, say anything, without fear he’d laugh at her or put her down for it.

He groaned again, biting hard on his lower lip as she rolled the condom on, his hands coming up to reach for her breasts as she moved to straddle his hips, squeezing and tugging at her nipples.

Rosie’s breath caught at the sensations, the insistent tug low in her groin almost a surprise, so soon after she’d come in the pool. She was already hungry for more, greedy for Adam, for the sensations he seemed to evoke in her so easily.

“God, yes,” Adam muttered as she grasped his cock and sank slowly down on it, taking her time, hips rocking gently. He didn’t try to thrust up, letting her set the pace at which she took him. “Fuck, Rosie, you feel so good.”

“You too,” she told him, her voice thin and breathy as she sank deeper, internal muscles stretching and clenching exquisitely. “Oh, Adam!”

“That’s it, angel,” he encouraged her, cupping her breasts and rearing up to kiss them, wrapping an arm around her lower back and lifting up to meet her as she finally took all of him.

The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, soft gasps and cries from her, deeper groans from Adam, the slap of wet, heated flesh, the bedframe creaking with protest as Adam took over the rhythm and increased it to an almost frenetic speed. Rosie’s screams of pleasure and Adam’s triumphant shout.

Afterwards, Rosie very nearly collapsed atop him. It was only her own face buried in her wet, salty hair that convinced her to get up and stagger to the bathroom to take a shower, and she was far too exhausted afterwards to dry it properly, just wrapping it in a towel and toppling into bed with a vague mumble of apology.

She was barely aware of Adam leaning in and kissing her brow gently, drawing the top sheet up over her.

“Sleep, angel. I promise I won’t wake you until morning.”

“Your turn to make breakfast,” she mumbled into the pillow, and heard him laugh quietly.

“You got it. Go to sleep.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN




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