Adam's POV
Her lips were soft and pliant, tasting of expensive alcohol and something uniquely her. This wasn't like our previous kisses – this was pure, unrestrained need.
"Mrs. Lancaster." My voice came out rougher than intended, betraying how badly I wanted her. "I want you. Now."
She tried to respond, but I was already capturing her mouth again, swallowing whatever protest she might have made. Her fingers tangled in my hair as I deepened the kiss, drawing a small sound from her throat that sent heat pooling in my stomach. The feeling of her pressed against me, wearing nothing but my shirt, was driving me insane.
When I finally pulled back, she sagged against my chest, her breathing ragged. The flush across her cheeks and the way she swayed slightly reminded me she was still drunk, but that knowledge did nothing to calm my racing pulse.
My hands slid lower of their own accord, tracing the curves of her breasts I'd been trying so hard to ignore. Another kiss, deeper this time, had her sinking into the mattress beneath me. The sight of her there, dark hair spread across the pillows, tested what remained of my self-control.
"Wait—" She gasped as I found that sensitive spot below her ear. But her protest died as I grazed the skin with my teeth, drawing another of those addictive little sounds from her.
I shifted, trying to ease the growing ache in my groin, but the movement pressed me harder against her thigh. Her eyes went wide, and in her drunken state, she blurted out, "Your cock is digging into my leg!"
I froze for a fraction of a second before a dark laugh escaped me. The innocent way she'd said it, like she was complaining about the weather... "And whose fault is that?"
"'M sleepy," she mumbled, pushing ineffectively at my chest. Her eyes were already starting to drift closed. "Let me sleep..."
"Fuck." A string of curses escaped me as I forced myself to pull away. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her outside as I noticed that the bed was wet, making it impossible to sleep there any longer.
"What—" She squirmed in my grip, nearly making me lose my balance. "Put me down!"
"Stop squirming." I tried to make my voice threatening, but it came out gentler than intended. "Or I will fuck you tonight."
"You wouldn't." But she stilled anyway, her small body fitting perfectly against my chest.
"Try again." I felt my voice rumble through my chest where she was pressed against me. "One more wiggle and we'll find out if you can handle my size."
I carried her into my bedroom, hyper-aware of every point where her body touched mine. The king-sized bed seemed to mock me as I deposited her carefully onto sheets.
"Don't move." I needed her to stay put while I got myself under control. The bathroom called like salvation – I needed a very cold shower.
\---
By the time I stepped out of the shower, her breathing had already evened out into sleep. Damn it all to hell.
But my body still thrumming with need despite the cold water. The sight that greeted me nearly broke what remained of my self-control.
Stella lay sprawled across my bed like she belonged there, my shirt riding dangerously high on her thighs. Her hair fanned out across my pillows, and her lips – still swollen from my kisses – were parted slightly in sleep.
"Damn it." I ran a hand through my damp hair, torn between frustration and an inexplicable urge to touch her.
A small sound escaped her as she shifted, unconsciously seeking warmth. Before I could stop myself, I was sliding into bed beside her. She immediately curled into me like a heat-seeking missile.
"Sam..." she mumbled, nuzzling into my chest. "Sleep time..."
Something hot and possessive surged through me. "Mrs. Lancaster." I caught her wandering hands before they could travel lower. "Look at who I am."
She made a small sound of protest as I trapped her hands above her head. "Stop moving."
Her leg hooked over mine, bringing our bodies flush together. The thin fabric of my shirt did nothing to hide her sexy curves. "Or what?"
The innocent question, delivered in that sleep-rough voice, nearly snapped my control. "Or I will enter your body.”
Another wiggle had me gritting my teeth. One more movement like that and I wouldn't be responsible for my actions. "I'm going to take another shower."
This time, the water was ice cold.
\---
Stella's POV
Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by a pounding headache and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. This wasn't my room. These weren't my sheets. And this definitely wasn't my shirt.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lancaster."
I bolted upright, immediately regretting the sudden movement as my head protested violently. Adam stood in the bathroom doorway, watching me with dangerous amusement.
"Why am I in your room?" My voice came out embarrassingly squeaky. "And wearing your... clothes?"
"You don't remember?" His smile held a predatory edge that made my pulse jump. "You were quite... enthusiastic last night."
Horror dawned as fragments of memory surfaced. The "lemonade" that had tasted oddly strong. The bath. The kiss. Oh God, the kiss.
"That drink..." I pressed my fingers to my temples, willing the room to stop spinning. "It wasn't just lemonade, was it?"
"First time I've seen anyone mistake it for lemonade." He moved closer, and I became acutely aware of how high his shirt had ridden up on my thighs. "Though I have to admit, drunk you is... entertaining."
More memories hit me like a freight train. Had I really told him he smelled nice? Had I actually kissed him first? "Did we..."
I instantly pulled open my shirt to take a look, relieved to find no other kiss marks and let out a heavy sigh.
As soon as I made this move, regret washed over me, and when I looked up, I caught Adam's eyes fixed on me with a bemused expression.
Was that bastard mocking me?
Isn’t it perfectly normal to check myself after a blackout?
"No." Something dark flashed in his eyes. "Though not for lack of trying on your part."
Heat flooded my face as another memory surfaced – of his hands on my waist, his mouth on mine, the way I'd melted into him like ice cream on a hot day.
"I should go." I shifted slightly, trying to get out of bed, but as soon as I put weight on my knee, a sharp pain shot through me. The room tilted alarmingly.
Strong hands caught me before I could face-plant onto his obscenely expensive carpet. "Careful, Mrs. Lancaster." His breath ghosted across my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "We wouldn't want a repeat of last night's injuries."
The way he said "last night" made heat pool in my stomach. How much exactly did I do while drunk?
"Though," I could feel the heat fro his hand where he steadied me holding my hip, "if you're planning another performance like last night's kiss, I might be persuaded to catch you again."
Oh God. I definitely kissed him first. "I was drunk!"
"Mmm." His other hand came up to trace my jawline. "And now you're not."
The look in his eyes made my breath catch. "Mr. Lancaster..."
"Yes?" His thumb brushed my bottom lip, as he put me on the bed and climbed over me, his larger frame enveloping mine and my treacherous body swayed toward him like a flower seeking sun.
What am I doing now? Do I like this bastard? I didn’t hate his touch instead expect.