Chapter 3: The Confession
Ashley’s silk robe clung to her damp skin as she swiped through the photos on Brad’s phone. The images burned into her retinas—her own body, flushed and wanton, water sluicing over her curves as Brad’s hands gripped her hips. The memory of his mouth between her thighs sent a fresh pulse of heat through her core.
She exhaled, slow, and tossed the phone onto the bed beside him.
Brad lounged against the headboard, sheets pooled low on his hips, watching her with heavy-lidded amusement. "Regretting it already?"
Ashley tightened the robe’s belt with a sharp tug. "No."
His grin widened. "Liar."
She turned away, pretending to adjust the lamp’s dimmer. The truth coiled behind her ribs, restless. She’d spent years hiding behind professionalism, burying the way her breath caught when he leaned too close in meetings. And now? Now he had her spread open on camera, raw and exposed.
Brad’s fingers brushed the back of her knee, startling her. "You’re thinking too loud."
She glanced down at him. His hair was still damp from the shower, tousled in a way that made her fingers itch to touch it. "I’m just realizing how much time we wasted."
Brad sat up, the sheets slipping further. "Tell me."
The command in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She could lie. She *should* lie. Instead, she let the robe slide off one shoulder. "Remember the conference in Chicago? When you stood behind me at the bar?"
His eyes darkened. "You ordered a dirty martini. Extra olives."
She laughed, low and breathless. "I came in my panties just from the way your breath hit my neck."
Brad’s hand snapped out, twisting in the robe’s sash and yanking her forward. The sudden motion knocked her off balance, and she landed straddling his lap, the silk parting to bare her thighs. His cock pressed hot and insistent against her stomach.
"Say that again," he growled.
Ashley rocked her hips, just once, just to feel him twitch beneath her. "I *dreamed* about you fucking me against that hotel window. Every night for a month after, I touched myself imagining it was your hands on me instead of mine."
Brad’s grip on her hip turned bruising. "Show me."
She didn’t hesitate. Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking with slow, filthy precision. His groan was ragged, head falling back against the headboard.
"Like this?" She tightened her grip, thumb swiping over the leaking head. "Or harder?"
"Fuck—" Brad’s hands clamped onto her waist, lifting her effortlessly before slamming her down onto him in one brutal thrust.
Ashley’s back arched, a gasp tearing from her throat as he filled her. No warm-up, no mercy—just the raw stretch of him splitting her open.
Brad didn’t give her time to adjust. He set a punishing rhythm, hips pistoning up to meet her downward strokes. The slap of skin echoed off the walls, mingling with their ragged breaths.
"Look at you," he snarled, one hand fisting in her hair to wrench her head back. "Finally getting what you fucking begged for."
Ashley’s nails dug into his shoulders, pleasure coiling tight. "Should’ve—ah—*taken* it sooner."
Brad’s laugh was dark, his free hand sliding between them to rub tight circles over her clit. "Then come for me. Prove you’re mine."
The orgasm hit like a live wire, her entire body seizing as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Brad followed with a groan, his thrusts turning erratic before he spilled deep inside her, hips jerking against hers.
For a long moment, the only sound was their breathing—harsh, uneven. Ashley slumped forward, her forehead resting against his collarbone.
Brad’s fingers traced idle patterns down her spine. "Still regretting it?"
She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze. "Not even close."
His smirk was slow, satisfied. "Good. Because we’re not done."
Ashley’s pulse kicked. "Oh?"
Brad flipped them suddenly, pinning her beneath him. The sheets were cool against her back, his body scorching where it pressed against hers.
"I owe you a hotel fantasy," he murmured against her throat. His teeth scraped over her pulse point. "And I *always* pay my debts."
Ashley’s breath hitched as his hands slid under her thighs, pushing them toward her chest. The new angle sent sparks through her already-sensitive nerves.
"Brad—"
He didn’t let her finish. With one sharp thrust, he was inside her again, deeper this time, his rhythm relentless.
Ashley’s moan dissolved into a broken cry as he took her apart, piece by piece, until all that was left was the heat of his skin and the electric promise of more.