Devil's Contract

“You’re here,” he says, a mix of disbelief and hope in his voice.

“I’m here.” I gesture around us. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

A sad smile comes to his sexy lips. “You were preparing to burn it down yesterday if I’m not mistaken. I just finished the destruction you started, sans fire risk to the rest of the hotel.”

“Touché,” I reply, looking him over while he’s seated on the couch. “You look like shit,” I say and I mean it. I’ve never seen Dex Cohen as disheveled and broken as he looks right now.

“Yeah, well I haven’t got much sleep,” he counters.

“This is a hotel you know. We have rooms and those rooms have beds.” I’m not sure why I’m being playful with him. I’m still furious for how he played me, but I’m not exactly innocent either and I’m just so tired of fighting.

Dex pins me with a heated glare. “There’s only one bed in this hotel I want to sleep in, and it wasn’t available to me last night.”

“Oh, and why is that?” My pulse is climbing, knowing how much we both have at stake as we tiptoe through the minefield of mistakes we’ve both made.

“Because I fucked up,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yes, you did.” I pause briefly before adding, “But so did I. I never should have kicked you out the way I did after Dad died.”

I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll say to my confession. I don’t have to wait long.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” I can hear a grain of hope in his voice.

Recognizing this as my chance to say my piece, I add, “I’m not going to thank you for humiliating me or for lying to me but… I know you saved The Whitney… and my Paris apartment, and who knows what else. So… thank you.”

Dex finally pushes to his socked feet, teetering just a bit before finally standing. To his credit he doesn’t come any closer as he answers me. “I don’t want your thanks, Katja.”

My breath hitches again before I whisper, “What is it you want then?”

Pain fills his eyes as he almost begs with only two words. “Your forgiveness.”

Dex is many things, but in that moment, I just don’t believe he could possibly be this good of an actor. His pain is as real as my own.

Taking the biggest leap of faith of my life, I rush into his arms. “I do forgive you. Can you forgive me?”

“Already done, princess.” His bear hug is so tight I have trouble taking a deep breath.

“Are we going to be okay?” I ask quietly.

“If anyone can, it’s us,” he answers, and I believe it. I can feel it in the strength of his arms as he holds me against him, clinging to me like a lifeline. Minutes pass while we silently hold each other, trying our best to glue our shaky relationship back together again.

As our bodies sway, our undeniable sexual attraction reignites. A sigh of desire passes over my lips when I feel his thick shaft growing, pressing against my body.

“I need you,” he whispers.

I nod against his chest, so desperate for the connection that all I can get out is a single word. “Please.”

Dex only loosens his hold on me long enough to grip me at the nape of my neck, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. Our tongues duel as his other hand falls to squeeze my ass. My knees give way under me, but he’s there to catch me, holding me against his body as I become lightheaded from the overflow of emotions.

This feels right, here in his arms. As he kisses me breathless, his hands roam down my body, stopping to squeeze my breasts through my thin top just as I unbutton the dress shirt he’s had on since yesterday. We’re both rushing, desperate to reconnect in the most intimate of ways.

Dex pulls out of our kiss long enough to bark an order. “I need you out of these pants, baby.” Ever helpful, he moves his hands to my waist to help yank away my clothes and I toe off my shoes as he bares me.

My fingers go to work unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants down far enough for his semi-hard cock to spring free. Wrapping my hand around his length, I start stroking the velvety skin faster until the core of his shaft is hard as steel. My pussy clenches, anticipating how good it’s going to feel to have him inside me again.

Dex’s motions are demanding as he spins me around, shuffling us together until we close the distance to his desk. Impatient, he reaches out with his left arm and swishes everything on the desk to the floor.

I don’t have time to worry about the mess because his other hand is already pressing against my back, bending me until I have to plant my hands on the desk to catch my upper body as he lines up behind me, using his foot to spread my legs nice and wide for easy access.