Page 30 of His By Contract
Her thighs trembled as desire pulsed through her core, her body betraying every defense she’d built. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the way her hips wanted to arch into his touch. But her bottom remembered his earlier strikes, and now each ghost of that sting only heightened the ache building inside her.
Adrian’s grip tightened, his fingers pressing deeper into her sensitive skin. The possessive hold spoke volumes in the silence, a wordless claim that resonated through her bones. She was his. The thought should have terrified her, should have made her fight against this display of ownership. Instead, it sent another wave of heat coursing through her veins.
His thumb drifted over her bare cheek in lazy patterns, each caress laying claim to her skin. The gentle touch contrasted sharply with his firm grip, creating a confusing mix of sensations that left her breathless. She couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped her throat, halfway between a gasp and something more primal.
Georgia’s pulse thundered in her ears as Adrian’s hand remained steady against her exposed skin. Heat from his palm soaked into her flesh, anchoring her in place even as her mind whispered she could pull away. But she didn’t want to. Her breath came in short gasps, each inhale carrying the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with leather and paper.
She should move. Should pull away and rebuild the walls between them. But her body refused to obey, pinned not by his strength, but by the electricity crackling between them. His thumb traced another lazy circle on her heated skin, closer to her core, and she couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down her spine.
Shame burned hot in her face, warring with the liquid heat between her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only intensified every point of contact between them: the press of his thighs beneath her, the grip of his fingers, the whisper of fabric where her dress bunched at her waist.
His other hand slid up her back, fingers trailing along her spine. Georgia remained still as she acknowledged the truth she couldn’t deny. She wanted this.
The realization settled into her bones like molten gold, heavy and precious. Her muscles relaxed fractionally, surrendering to his touch. She felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath at her wordless permission.
His grip tightened slightly, possessive but not punishing.
Adrian shifted beneath her, settling back into his chair with a casual grace that spoke of absolute control. The movement pressed her closer for a brief moment before his hands fell away, releasing her with quiet finality. The absence of his touch left her skin tingling, aware of every point where his fingers had branded her.
“Stand up, Georgia.” His voice flowed like dark honey, each word carved in stone. The command carried no malice, just unshakable certainty and something darker that made her breath catch.
Georgia’s legs trembled as she rose, smoothing her dress back into place with unsteady fingers. Her skin prickled beneath the silk, each brush of fabric echoing how vulnerable she’d felt under his gaze. Heat still pooled low in her belly, refusing to fade despite his dismissal.
Georgia steadied herself, trying to regain some semblance of composure as she faced Adrian. Her legs wavered, muscles pulled taut with the strain of standing upright, and the ghost of his touch lingered on her skin like a brand. She forced herself to look at him, to meet his gaze directly despite the heat still coloring her cheeks.
Adrian remained seated, his posture relaxed and controlled. But his eyes told a different story. The usual icy blue had darkened to stormy cobalt, pupils dilated as they tracked her every movement. His jaw was set, the muscle there twitching slightly with tension. Though his expression remained impassive, almost bored, Georgia caught the subtle signs of restraint, the way his fingers gripped the armrest a fraction too tightly, thebarely perceptible rise and fall of his chest as he controlled his breathing.
She noticed how his gaze lingered on her lips before sliding down to where her hands smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. His eyes followed the movement with an intensity that made her skin prickle with awareness. When he finally looked back up at her face, Georgia saw something dangerous flickering behind his careful mask: desire mingled with frustration, control battling with something wilder.
Something flickered at his mouth, not quite emotion, but close. A shift too subtle for most to catch, except she did. And it said he felt it too. His fingers drummed once against the leather armrest before stilling completely, a brief tell that betrayed his otherwise perfect composure.
Georgia recognized the truth in that moment; Adrian Adler wasn’t as untouchable as he pretended to be. Whatever power he held over her, she affected him too. The realization sent a strange thrill through her, both terrifying and exhilarating.
Without a word, Georgia forced herself to walk toward the door. Each step felt like fighting against an invisible current, pulling her back toward him. Her heartbeat roared through her skull, every nerve alive to the weight of him at her back. The tension stretched between them like a physical thing, threatening to snap with every breath.
She didn’t look back as she left, but she felt his eyes following her until the door closed behind her.
Georgia stepped inside her room and closed the door, each movement slow and deliberate despite her trembling fingers. The soft click of the latch echoed in the silence, a final punctuation to what had happened in Adrian’s study.
Her skin burned everywhere he’d touched her, ghost impressions of his hands lighting up her nerve endings. The memory of his grip branded into her flesh, refusing to fade even as she pressed her palms flat against the cool wall.
She stood, lost in the pressing silence. Moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the pristine furniture.
Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths that did nothing to calm the thunder of her pulse. Her thighs clenched involuntarily, the ache between them refusing to subside. Each movement only intensified the burning, a torturous echo of how he’d marked her body and mind.
With unsteady hands, she reached for the zipper of her dress. The fabric whispered over her sensitized skin as it fell away, each brush like an echo of his touch. She stepped out of the pool of silk at her feet, leaving it where it landed, and pulled off her heels.
Georgia sank onto the mattress, her body collapsing against the cool sheets. Her skin prickled with awareness, every nerve ending alive and demanding attention. The silk pressed against her bare skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the fire burning through her veins.
Her fingers twisted in the sheets as waves of need crashed over her. The ache between her thighs intensified, refusing to be ignored. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made the memories sharper: his hands on her skin, the feel of his body under hers, the way he held her in place.
She told herself this had been about power. About proving she could make him react, force a crack in that perfect control. A small victory in their endless game of push and pull.
But the lie crumbled as soon as she formed it.
This wasn’t about control. Not really. She’d wanted to see him break, yes, but not to prove a point. She’d needed to know she affected him the way he affected her. That underneath all his careful restraint, he burned for her too.
Instead, she’d been the one to shatter. The moment his hands claimed her body, she’d surrendered completely. A slow ache stirred in her chest as she recalled how easily her body had given in to his, as if it had always known its place was there.
