What the hell?

  I'm about to chastise him but he kisses the mark reverently while meeting my gaze through the mirror. I see the tenderness in his eyes and fall speechless.

  Ethan turns my head towards him and looks into my eyes before kissing my lips next. He licks them gently as he starts to play with my nipple. I shiver.

  His tongue slips inside my mouth and he kisses me deeply. I moan. He pulls away and presses his cheek against mine. Our eyes meet in the mirror once more.

  My gaze drops to his hands as his fingers rub my nipples. As much as I don't want to watch what he's doing to me, I can't seem to help it. And as much as I don't like to admit it, watching adds to the pleasure. My breath comes in gasps. My knees tremble. And the more I watch, the more the pleasure intensifies. It's addicting, actually.

  This is dangerous. Ethan is turning me into someone I never knew existed.

  His hands abandon my breasts and descend to my stomach, but they don't stop there. They move lower, gripping my hips. One of them slips beneath my lace panties and moves to the front, approaching that part of my body that has been aching for Ethan's touch since he first placed his mouth on mine. It's burning now. Weeping.

  As soon as Ethan's fingertips brush against my sensitive other pair of lips, my knees buckle. A soft cry escapes my throat.

  I'm about to lean against Ethan but he suddenly pulls his hand away. He pushes my drenched panties down to my knees and they fall to the floor. I kick them aside.

  As soon as I've done that, Ethan pushes me forward. I place my hands on top of the desk to keep myself from crashing.

  He plants kisses on my back. I brace myself for what's coming. I expect his fingers to enter me. I want them to. Instead, I feel his tongue. His wet, warm, wicked tongue. My knees quiver. My hands curl into fists. My eyelids fall shut as I suck in a deep breath.

  Ethan licked me down there before. Last night, to be precise. But this is different. Now that he's kneeling behind me, that his tongue is entering me from behind, it feels more strange. More shameful. His fingers spread me open and I feel more exposed. But I can't bring myself to ask him to stop. All I can do is moan and tremble and try not to collapse as I lose my mind.

  When his finger enters me, I fall forward on my elbows on top of the desk. He slips in another and I give a loud gasp. My eyes open wide.

  I find myself staring at my flushed face. My hair is a mess, the strands scattered everywhere with some stuck to my cheeks. Tears bead at the corners of my eyes.

  Is that really... me?

  Ethan starts to move his fingers and my eyes close again. He reaches in front of me to tease my nub and I let out a cry. He's using both hands now, stimulating the most sensitive part of me from both the front and the back. My hips shake. My toes dig into the carpet. My fingernails scrape the desk as heat and excitement mingle in my veins.

  Frankly, I don't know how much more of this I can take.

  Just when I feel like I can't take anymore, Ethan stops. His fingers withdraw. I use my tired arms as a cushion as I collapse on top of the desk. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.

  Ethan remains standing behind me. I hear a belt buckle coming off, then a zipper getting undone. Seconds later, I feel Ethan's cock rubbing against the small of my back. I feel it throb.

  I lift my head. He grips my hips and starts to push the tip of his cock inside me. Somehow, it slides in more smoothly this time. It's still a tight fit, though. I can still feel myself being stretched as he enters me. The friction is maddening.

  The face in the mirror in front of me looks even more of a mess now. I can barely recognize it with the features all twisted in pleasure.

  Did I feel this good last time?

  Ethan gives a hard thrust and my eyes squeeze shut. My thoughts scatter.

  Is he completely inside me? I can't tell. But he's jerking his hips now, his cock rubbing against my sweet spots as it moves in and out of me. My hips move on their own to match Ethan's rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, entwined with my gasps and cries.

  When Ethan stops and pulls his cock out, I whimper. He grabs my arm and pulls me to the bed. Then he throws me on top of it and climbs on top of me.

  "Stella," he says my name as he looks into my eyes.

  Lust illuminates the moonless night in his. It lights a fire inside my chest.

  I grab his tie and pull him down so our lips can collide. I stroke his cheek as I moan into his mouth.

  Ethan kisses me fiercely as he clutches my thighs. He enters me again and I gasp.

  He kisses my neck and one of my breasts before straightening his back. He lifts my legs. My hips rise off the bed. My ankles rest on his shoulders as he starts to impale me on his cock.

  As if I have a pause button inside me that has been switched to play, the pleasure that was put on hold floods my veins anew. And it's even stronger now. I grip the sheets. My head thrashes from side to side as my cries spill into the air.

  Ethan moves faster at a merciless pace. The pleasure beneath my skin bursts. My quivering fingers clutch Ethan's thighs, nails digging into his skin as my back arches like a bow. My eyes roll to the back of my head. My mind becomes lost in a fog.

  As it starts to fade, I realize Ethan is still moving. My body is out of strength but he still has his, his thrusts even more forceful now. Then he starts to tremble. He propels his cock inside me and buries it deep in a final thrust as his body grows taut. His hands grip my knees. His features contort in pleasure as he grunts.

  Then he falls silent. For a moment, he stares at me as he catches his breath and waits for his muscles to uncoil. Then he pulls his cock out of me and lies down beside me.

  I don't move. As the heat from my skin evaporates and my thoughts clear, I realize what I've done - again - and unlike last time, I don't know what to do next. This is my room, so I can't leave. Is Ethan going to?

  Finally, he gets off the bed. He glances at me over his shoulder but doesn't say a word. He fixes his clothes and puts on his shoes, then walks to the door. He bends over to grab his jacket that's lying in front of it next to my purse and my dress.

  I sit up and grab the covers to conceal myself - a futile gesture, maybe, but I don't want to talk to Ethan with my breasts sticking out.

  "The files..."

  "They can wait until tomorrow," Ethan says without looking at me, his tone back to being businesslike.

  And cold. So cold I nearly wrap the covers more tightly around myself as I suppress a shiver.

  He grabs the doorknob.

  "Good night."

  "Good night," I return the farewell.

  He opens the door and steps out. He's gone, leaving me alone with my questions and my regrets.

  I slip beneath the covers and lie down on the bed. I run my fingers over my bruised shoulder as I stare at the ceiling with my forehead furrowed.

  For the second night in a row here in Zurich, I had amazing sex with Ethan Hawthorne, my hot billionaire boss, the same man who I promised never to have sex with, the same man who's been giving me the cold shoulder all day and who just walked out after handing me the same.

  What in the world is going on?

  Chapter Ten

  Ethan

  "I'll tell you what's happening here, little brother," Asher says as he turns to Ryker.

  I've been ignoring him for the past five minutes - I'm no longer pissed at him, I just want to eat breakfast in peace - so now he's trying to get his other brother's attention.

  Seriously, he acts like a five-year-old.

  He lowers his voice as he leans towards Ryker. "Our big brother here has been busy making his own acquisition."

  My own acquisition? What does he mean...? Oh, that.

  I roll my eyes as I take a bite out of my slice of rye bread and cheese. Doesn't Asher have anything else to talk about?

  "Do you mean he's sleeping with someone?" Ryker asks. "Because if he was trying to acquire another company, I think I'd know."

  Asher grins. "Exactly."

  Is he really that happy about the fact that I'm getting laid?

  "Is she Swiss?" Ryker asks. "Someone famous, like a supermodel or a tennis player?"

  Great. Now he's interested in who I'm fucking, too. When did my sex life turn into a reality show?

  "Nope," Asher answers. "But you know her."

  I stop in the middle of taking another bite out of my open-faced sandwich. He knows?

  "Who?" Ryker asks curiously.

  I look at Asher, waiting for him to answer the question as well.

  Does he really know about Stella and me?

  "I'll give you a clue," he says. "She's staying at this hotel."

  Ryker looks around the restaurant. I don't. I know Stella isn't coming down for the breakfast buffet. She said something about not being used to a heavy breakfast. Or maybe she just said that because she doesn't want to be seen with me and arouse suspicion - a futile effort if Asher already knows what we've been up to.

  "Also, yesterday, she was wearing a red dress," Asher adds.

  I go still. Fuck. He does know.

  Ryker looks at me with creased eyebrows. "Stella?"

  Asher points a finger at him. "Bull's-eye."

  "Bullshit," I say calmly before finishing my sandwich.

  It's too soon to admit defeat. For all I know, Asher may just be speculating. What proof does he have?

  "I saw the two of you on the balcony," he says.

  I nearly choke. He did? Well, he did say they arrived at the hotel ahead of schedule.

  "Balcony?" Ryker asks. "Doing what?"

  "Let's just say they were getting some fresh air," Asher answers. "It seemed to be a hot evening."

  I sigh. Great. Now I'm never going to hear the end of this.

  Ryker still looks confused. "But she's your..."

  "Assistant, I know," I finish his sentence as I reach for my cup of coffee.

  I suddenly wish it was Scotch.

  "I guess she's assisting him with something else now," Asher says.

  I narrow my eyes at him in warning. He may be my brother, and he may think he has one over me because he discovered my secret, but I can still punch him.

  "So that's why he kept looking at her yesterday," Ryker says.

  He noticed?

  "And why he looked like a raging bull when I was flirting with her," Asher says.

  So he was doing that on purpose?

  "Let me guess. She's not here for breakfast because you went on a little rampage after you whisked her away."

  I really want to punch him right now.

  "But she's your assistant," Ryker says again.

  "That doesn't mean he can't fall in love with her," Asher says. "In fact, maybe that's why he fell in love with her. Because she's always by his side."

  "I am not in love with her," I tell him.

  Wherever did he get that idea?

  "Really? How long have you been sleeping with her?"

  I set my cup down. "You know what, Asher? It's none of your business. And speaking of business, we're meeting later in my room to go over some things from yesterday's meeting."

  I look at Ryker.

  "You too."

  "I hope you cleaned up this time," Asher says.

  I ignore that and grab another piece of bread. Can't he just shut up?

  He leans forward on the table and looks at me. "You know, why is it that when I'm sleeping with someone, everyone seems to have an opinion, but when it's you doing it, we can't even say a word about it?"

  "That's because when you sleep with someone, you can't keep it to yourself," I tell him. "It's not like Ryker and I pry. You just like to brag, so of course Ryker and I have to say something."

  "True," Ryker agrees.

  "I don't brag," Asher argues.

  Ryker and I say nothing.

  Asher frowns. "Not like you can keep a secret either. If you were more careful, I wouldn't be asking questions."

  "If you didn't flirt with the receptionist so she would give you a spare key and use it to barge into someone else's private suite, you wouldn't be asking questions," I point out.

  Ryker gives him a look of horror. "You did what?"

  "I didn't flirt with her," Asher argues. "I just asked. Nicely."

  Yeah, right.

  "Very nicely," he adds.

  In other words, he did flirt with her.

  "But it doesn't matter. You're forgetting I saw you on the balcony."

  Which was probably why he came to my room.

  "Fine," I give in. "You win. Can you shut up now and let me eat the rest of my breakfast in peace?"

  "Only after you answer my question."

  "You've already asked a lot of questions," I point out.

  "Are you in love with her?" Asher asks again.

  I frown. "I already answered that."

  "Are you sure about your answer, though? Because I know you, and you don't just sleep with any woman."

  "You mean unlike you?" I poke at him.

  "Then there's the way you were looking at her yesterday," he adds.

  That again.

  I sigh. Was I really staring at her that much?

  "How was I looking at her?" I ask him out of curiosity.

  "Like you wanted to fuck her," Asher answers.

  Well, I did want to.

  "That doesn't mean I'm in love with her, does it?" I ask Asher.

  "But you're going to keep sleeping with her?"

  I look at him. "I think that's more than just one question."

  Can he shut up now?

  "Oh, come on. Why don't you just admit it? I'm sure Dad will be thrilled."

  So persistent. Isn't there something I can do to make Asher stop nagging me? Oh, I know.

  "How about you?" I ask him. "Why don't you just admit that you don't have a chance with Violet Cleary because she's too good for you?"

  Asher falls silent. Finally. But I didn't expect him to stand up.

  "You know what? I'm done with breakfast. I'll see you guys later."

  With that, he walks off.

  What do you know? I didn't just get him to shut up. I got him to leave. I can't help but feel a tad remorseful, though. I didn't mean to make him upset. Who knew my words would get such a serious reaction from him?

  "I guess he really has it bad for her," Ryker remarks before turning to me. "What about you?"

  I suppress a sigh. Not him, too.

  He shakes his head. "Forget it. You're right. It's none of my business. Just promise me you'll be careful."

  "I will," I promise him.

  No one else is going to find out what's going on between Stella and me because when we get back to Chicago, there isn't going to be anything going on. This is just consensual sex between a man and a woman who are both feeling a little lonely at the moment and are in need of a bit of adventure in a foreign land. Nothing more.

  ~

  "More!" Stella screams as she grips my shoulders and moves her hips against the fingers I have inside her. "Harder! Deeper!"

  I grin as I look at her flushed face, at the tears clinging to her long lashes, at the swollen, parted lips that her strained voice is spilling out from.

  To think that when we first started, she was trying so hard to be quiet. She was embarrassed and trying to hide it. She was a virgin, yearning for pleasure but not knowing how to ask for it. Ashamed to ask for it. Afraid she didn't deserve it. Afraid she'd disappoint me, even though I never saw that as a possibility.

  That feels like ages ago. Yesterday, as soon as I kissed her, she gave in. Earlier, all I had to do was brush my fingers against her thigh, whisper something in her ear, and she practically threw herself at me. She planted her mouth on top of mine and pushed her tongue inside my mouth, even though she had never kissed any man before me. She unbuttoned my shirt and took off her own blouse and skirt. When I slipped my hand beneath her panties and started to tease her nub, she grabbed my wrist and shoved my fingers inside her.

  Now, she's lying on her back, demanding more. The sight of it makes my cock swell even more inside my boxers. Molten desire simmers in my veins. At the same time, I feel a swell of pride in my chest.

  I'm the only man Stella has been with. I'm the only one who's seen her like this. I'm the one who made her like this.

  I reach inside her as deeply as I can, drowning my fingers in the passage melting from her heat. I press my fingertips against her softness. She gives a loud gasp. I thrust my fingers faster and she starts to tremble. Her nails dig into my skin. The passage contracts.

  Stella grips my wrist and holds it in place as she squeezes my fingers. The sensation goes all the way to my cock, which throbs and strains against its cotton prison. She's the one in the throes of orgasm, and yet I can feel the ripples of her excitement travel across my skin. I nearly come myself.

  When her body starts to slacken, I will my muscles to relax as I tell myself to calm down. I exhale as she catches her breath.

  As I pull my drenched fingers out of her, the urge to fill her with my stiff cock hits. But no. Not yet. The last two times, I've been impatient. Today, I'm taking my time.

  Stella wipes the sweat from her forehead. She's still panting, but she looks ready for more.

  I run my fingers through the mess of her hair.

  "Tell me what else you want."

  She glances at my crotch and starts to reach for it. I grip her wrist.

  "I meant what you want me to do to you," I tell her before pressing my lips against her palm. I trace the fine lines on her skin with the tip of my tongue.

  "You mean apart from fucking me?" she asks with a grin.

  I chuckle. She really has grown bold.

  "Yes."

  She falls silent, her eyebrows furrowed.

  As I wait for her answer, I realize she still has a tear at the corner of her eye. I wipe it with the pad of my thumb and another realization comes to me.

  Well, more of a recollection than a realization. That entry in her journal about her sexual fantasies.

  We've already fulfilled the one that involves the mirror. All that's left is the one with the blindfold.

  I raise a finger. "One second."

  I leave the bed to go to my closet. I come back with a handkerchief.

  Stella sits up and gives me a puzzled look. "What's that for?"