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Vectra threw back her head to hiss out Qasim’s name, the sound leaving her throat on a husky groan. Her breathing came in broken hiccups as he conducted her body to his satisfaction. He lifted and rotated her hips, smothered in his big hands. He released her to smooth his palms over her upper thighs and back.
Vectra’s head sloped forward. She rode him enthusiastically in the reverse-cowgirl position, and the room grew colored by the mingled sounds of their throaty moans. The faint slapping of skin as their bodies rhythmically connected and reconnected merely enhanced their passionate desperation.
Qasim was sensitive enough to know Vectra was moments from coming apart on him. He wasn’t ready for that, but, damn, if she didn’t feel too good to tear away from.
The systematic clench and release of her sexual muscles tossed him over wave after seductive wave. Qasim’s deep voice was faint as he grunted out her name each time she squeezed and milked him. He spilled his seed into the condom, his body shaking as he both cursed and celebrated his loss of control.
Vectra slumped forward, surrendering to her own shattering release. Once depleted, she fell back against Qasim. She took her time catching her breath and enjoying the soothing sensation of her back sealed flat against his chest. She flinched a little when his palm smoothed down her front, not stopping until he’d covered her mound. They were still intimately connected, and she felt her sex react as though it had its own agenda. Her sensitive muscles clutched at his organ. Semierect, it still felt amazing inside her.
Vectra bucked gently against his hand when he pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger. He then soothed the spot beneath his middle finger, which quickly labored her breathing.
Qasim steadied her rolling hips beneath one hand, his erection firming and lengthening to breathtaking depth inside her for another exquisite round.
* * *
Vectra woke the next morning flat on her back and twisted in a tangle of covers. She was there alone. Relief and agitation both stirred. Relief because she needed a little more time to recover from last night’s escapades. Qasim Wilder could retire from finance and bottle his stamina instead. She had a feeling his income wouldn’t suffer in the least.
Then there was her case of mild agitation. She hadn’t come close to getting into what they were really supposed to be doing the night before—discussing his business.
Vectra massaged her eyes and lay there, debating on whether to leave the bed or roll over into a more comfortable position, when she heard soft male laughter followed by a distinct feminine twitter. Frowning, Vectra pushed herself up to rest her weight on her elbows. She waited for the sound to repeat. It did, and it had her leaving the bed to investigate.
The sight meeting her eyes when she pulled open the door had her fascinated. Qasim was in the outer room leaning against the fireplace mantel and looking quite at home in his trousers and partially buttoned shirt. His bare feet and the mug he held lent to the “at home” look.
What held her stunned, though, was the sight of Charlotte seated on one of the chaise longues. The woman was in a fit of giggles over whatever had just come out of Qasim’s mouth. Vectra gave an awkward wave when they noticed her standing in the doorway, clothed in the sheet she’d tied in a sarong about her body.
Laughter curving to a sly smile, Charlotte left the lounge chair and gave Vectra a teasing once-over.
“Good morning.” Charlotte’s greeting was quiet and meaningful as she strode from the room.
“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Qasim said once he’d drained the contents of his mug.
She blurted the first question that came to mind. “Why’d you spend the night?”
He didn’t look pleased. “You know why. I told you why.”
Vectra trudged out into the room. “We need to talk.”
“Love to—” his eyes raked her body appreciatively “—but I need to get going.” He appeared slightly repentant. “I didn’t mean to spill the beans to Charlotte, but I didn’t want to leave before you woke up.”
Vectra surveyed her attire, knowing it was far from appropriate, but she could waste no more time. He needed to hear what she had to say before he left for the office.
Qasim placed his mug to the mantel. Closing the distance between him and Vectra, he scooped her up, sheets and all.
“Sim...” She sighed in response to the slow, thorough kiss he treated her to.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured against her mouth and then pulled back just a tad to observe her attire. “Could I request this outfit?”
She clutched his shirt. “Sim, please? I really need to talk to you.”
