Victoria was the first to wake as dawn light filtered through the yacht's cabin windows. The gentle rocking motion of the vessel and the soft sound of waves against the hull created a peaceful atmosphere that seemed almost dreamlike. She stirred slowly, her body registering several things at once.
She had been washed and changed into a clean shirt that smelled faintly of James's cologne. There was a slight soreness between her legs, though not as much as she had anticipated. The care he had taken with her in her vulnerable state touched something deep in her chest.
Victoria lifted her head to look at the source of this tenderness, and immediately her heart began pounding uncontrollably. James lay beside her, his face peaceful in sleep, his hair tousled from the night's activities. The sight of him sent her pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with physical desire and everything to do with something much deeper.
Heat flooded her cheeks as she blushed a deep red, covering her face with her hands as memories from midnight came rushing back. The images were vivid and intimate, filled with sensations that had been hot, sensual, and incredibly good. The recollection made her entire body warm with remembered pleasure.
What confused Victoria more than the memories themselves was her reaction to them. She felt like a teenage girl experiencing the overwhelming rush of first love, complete with the butterflies and the racing heart and the inability to think clearly. The realization struck her with sudden clarity.
Love.
Victoria paused, stunned by the word that had surfaced in her consciousness. She glanced up at James's sleeping face again, and her heart performed the same wild acrobatics it had moments before. She couldn't help herself as her blush deepened further, painting her cheeks an even more vibrant shade of red.
It seemed she was repeating the same pattern she had followed before, denying her feelings for James instead of acknowledging them honestly. She owed it to herself to be truthful about what was happening in her heart.
The admission came with surprising ease once she allowed it: she was in love with James. She had always been in love with him, probably from much earlier than she was ready to think. The reason she hadn't opened herself up to these feelings before was her deep fear of becoming weak and vulnerable in love.
With James, though, she felt safe and comfortable and secure. She was certain he wouldn't hurt her because she had seen the way he looked at her, with such genuine adoration and affection that it took her breath away. There was no pretense in his gaze, no hidden agenda or ulterior motive. He cared for her simply because of who she was.
"James," she whispered inwardly, finally brave enough to look him directly in the face. Her heart did another ridiculous flip while butterflies performed an elaborate dance in her stomach. She willed herself to calm down, though the effort seemed futile.
"You wanted me to fall, right?" she murmured softly, her voice barely audible in the quiet cabin. "Well, you won."
Victoria continued staring at his peaceful features, wondering how incredibly lucky she was to have James in her life. Her mind began racing with ideas about how she could show him that she was truly in love with him, that her feelings went far beyond physical attraction.
James stirred slightly in his sleep, shifting position in a way that exposed the column of his neck. Victoria's breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight that greeted her. His neck was covered with bite marks she had left during their passionate encounter, evidence of her overwhelming need for him in those heated moments.
The visual reminder sent heat pooling low in her belly, and she felt herself growing aroused despite her recent satisfaction. Every instinct screamed at her to wake him up and repeat the previous night's activities, to lose herself once again in the intoxicating pleasure they could create together.
Victoria shook her head firmly, forcing herself to resist the temptation. If she wanted to convey her true feelings to James, she had to be proactive about demonstrating that her emotions ran deeper than physical desire. She didn't want him to mistake her love for him as purely physical attraction. That would be a disservice to both of them.
She had to restrain herself now more than ever and show him that she viewed him as so much more than a source of physical pleasure. It would be a challenge, especially when every cell in her body craved his touch, yet it was necessary.
Victoria needed to know how James felt about her in return. Was he in love with her the same way she was in love with him? Did he crave her presence and obsess over her the way she did about him? These questions demanded answers, and she was determined to find them.
First, though, she had to make things right. She had been selfish and blinded by her own desires, neglecting James's needs and ambitions in favor of keeping him close to her. The weight of what she had done pressed heavily on her conscience.
Victoria reached for her phone with careful movements, not wanting to disturb James's sleep. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she composed a text message to the person she had hired to interfere with James's business proposals to investors. What she had done was terribly wrong, a violation of his trust and his dreams, and she needed to correct the damage immediately.
The message was brief and direct: cease all interference activities immediately and confirm order. Within minutes, she received the confirmation she was waiting for. The relief that washed over her was profound, though she knew it would take more than this single action to truly make amends for what she had done.
Victoria carefully placed her phone back on the nightstand and slid back into James's embrace. As she settled against his warmth, she made a silent promise to herself and to him that she would find a way to earn his forgiveness and show him the true depth of her feelings.
She nestled deeper into James's embrace, her body fitting perfectly against his like the missing piece of a puzzle long-searched for. The warmth of his chest pressed against her cheek, his steady breathing stirring wisps of her hair, each exhale a gentle reminder of his presence. Sleep still clung to the edges of her consciousness, but something else was awakening within her, a familiar, delicious heat that pooled low in her belly as her body registered the solid strength of him.
She shifted slightly, adjusting her position to better accommodate the protective curl of his larger frame around her smaller one. In her drowsy state, her knee lifted instinctively, sliding up along his leg in a lazy caress. The movement halted when she encountered a firm resistance against her thigh, the unmistakable press of his morning wood straining against the thin fabric of his pants.
Victoria didn't pull away. Instead, the sleepy haze that had enveloped her mind began to lift, replaced by a different kind of fog, one tinted with desire and mischief. Her knee continued its journey upward, more deliberately now, applying a gentle pressure that was no longer accidental. She began a slow, rhythmic kneading motion, her thigh against his hardness, savoring the way his body responded even in sleep.
Memories flooded her mind unbidden. Vivid images of James naked and wanting. The smooth skin of his cock flushed and curved like temptation itself. The color, shape of him, thick and glorious. The impressive girth that had stretched her virgin body, that had filled her in ways she hadn't known were possible. She remembered the weight of him, the taste of his skin, the sounds he made when she took him deeper. The way he looked at her; eyes half-lidded, lips parted, expression torn between disbelief and ecstasy when she pleasured him.
Victoria felt her breathing quicken, her own body responding to these recollections. She wanted nothing more than to slip beneath the sheets, to wake him with her mouth on him, to reciprocate the exquisite torture he'd inflicted on her with his skilled tongue between her thighs. The memory of them inside the car and James's head buried between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs, his tongue working relentlessly with reverence until she shattered, it made her ache with need.