He swore under his breath. Then he let himself go. Tangling his hand in my hair, he pulled me roughly toward his lips. “It’s hard enough to control myself around you as it is. If you give me permission, then you better believe you’re going to get f**ked.”

I wanted to reply, Thank god, but his mouth had claimed mine with frenzied passion and speaking was no longer an option. At the same time, he drove his c**k into me with a deep, forceful jab. I cried out at the pleasure/pain. I’d been wet, but he’d been right—I hadn’t been quite as ready as I could have been.

And it didn’t matter. I loved him inside me, and my snug channel let each of his short stabs rub against every wall. I cried into his mouth at each stroke. God, oh god, oh god.

Still it wasn’t enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist and bucked against him, meeting his thrusts. I closed my eyes. I was aroused and insane with needing the release I knew would come if I could just get there.

He let go of the lip he’d been sucking on. “Jesus, Alayna. Slow down.”

“No. Can’t. Want you.” I couldn’t even speak in complete sentences.

“I know. I know what to give you.” He nipped at my jaw. “But if you don’t let me take care of you, you aren’t going to get where you want to go.”

“Need,” I corrected. And I couldn’t slow down. I was crazed.

Hudson huffed my name in frustration. Wrapping a handful of hair around his fingers, he pulled my head back until I gasped. His strokes slowed to a steady pulse. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

I nodded.

“Look at me.”

I opened my lids and met his gaze. Immediately, his gray eyes soothed me.

“You need to let me take charge, Alayna. You need to trust me. I’m going to take care of you.” He wasn’t talking about achieving an orgasm. He was speaking about much more. “Okay?”

I did trust him. Implicitly. I’d told him over and over.

But even with my declarations, I was still recovering from his recent abandonment and the pain of it lingered. Saying I trusted him was easier than actually letting myself go to fully act on that trust.

He was calling me out on that now.

And I wouldn’t let him down. “Okay,” I said.

“Good. Now let’s do this.” With one hand still pulling my hair, he moved his other to my cl*t where he rubbed with expert circles. “Hold on to the desk.”

I moved my hands to grip the edge of the desk. He picked up the tempo of his thrusts, his tip knocking against the same spot on the inside that his thumb massaged on the outside. The sensation in that one concentrated area built quickly. Soon, I felt the tightening in my lower belly, and my limbs began to tingle.

And Hudson was feeling it too. “God, Alayna. Your pu**y feels so good. So tight. You make me so hard. I’m going to come so hard.” He quickened the pace again, and the sound of our bodies slapping and his sex words pushed me higher and higher and higher.

When I was about to orgasm, he urged my h*ps up and drove into me with staccato jabs that sent us over together with a shared moan. He rubbed into me for several long seconds, spilling everything he had, my own fluids mixing with his.

“Better?” he asked before I’d even caught my breath.

“Yes. Much.” But even as I was still soaring on the tails of my cl**ax, I recognized that I’d just done the thing I’d always accused him of—used sex to solve a problem. “I, um, I’m sorry about—”

“Shh.” He put a finger to my lips and smiled. “It’s nice to be on the opposite side for once.”

“Well, thank you.” I kissed his finger then laced my hands around his neck.

“Anytime you need it, I’m happy to f**k away your woes.”

I laughed. After cleaning up and putting my panties back on, I left him to begin the tasks he felt were necessary for our protection.

Celia was nowhere in sight as I climbed into the back of the Maybach, but I shuddered, still feeling her eyes on me from the last time I’d been in the car. Hudson believed he could rid her from our lives. And I had total faith in him.

But I loved the man more than I’d loved anyone. It was totally plausible that my faith was biased.

Chapter Seven

Instead of going back to the club, I decided to call it a day. Besides, Hudson and I had planned that morning to be home to eat dinner together, and even though the new developments of the afternoon were keeping him at work late, I didn’t want to waste the cook’s efforts.

At the penthouse, I put our dinner trays in the warmer and sat at the dining room table nibbling on my salad while I tried to concentrate on a new book. I’d picked Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence, hoping it would help me focus on the romantic and sexual aspects of my life rather than the dread Celia had instilled.

But reading required more attention than I was able to devote to the task. Giving up, I tossed the book on the table. A blank business card poked out between the pages at the bottom. I hadn’t seen it before—throwing the book must have jostled the card from where it was lodged inside. I flipped the book open to the page the card marked and then turned the card over to see if the other side was also blank.

It wasn’t. And the name on the back almost made me drop the card.

With a hand on my chest, I talked myself down from my panic attack. Hudson had ordered the books from Celia and her design company—it was only natural that she’d stick her business card between the pages.

Except the books were new. And the page that the card had marked had a quote highlighted in yellow: “She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.”

Had Celia marked that quote? And had she meant it for me or for Hudson? And whoever the intended target was, what did she mean by it?

“Good book?”

I jumped at Hudson’s voice behind me. I’d been too absorbed in the book and Celia’s mark on it to hear him come in.

He leaned down to kiss my neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s not that. Look.” I showed him the card and held the book up for him. “I found this business card in this book—it’s one of the ones you got me. And this quote is highlighted.”

I felt Hudson’s body heating with rage. He crumpled the card in his hand and threw it across the room. “Goddammit!”

“What does it mean?”

“Who knows?” He took a deep breath and reined in his fury. “You know what? Don’t even think about it. That’s what she wants. She wants it to mess with you.” He grabbed the book from me and took it with him to the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”