Surrendering To The Billionaire's Lust.

20. Late night kisses.

I stepped into Wyatt's room, my fingers gripping the doorframe as I hesitated. I wanted to turn around and leave feeling very anxious of being in bed with Wyatt again. But the soft click of the bathroom door drew my attention, and there he was—Wyatt, fresh from his shower, steam swirling in the doorway behind him.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, the dark fabric clinging to his hips. His chest was bare, droplets of water still trailing down his golden skin, tracing the hard ridges of his toned abs.

The muscles in his arms tensed slightly as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing the dark strands back. His whole frame radiated a quiet power, my throat felt dry as I took in the sight of him.

"Bed... now." His voice was a deep, commanding, leaving no room for argument. The stern edge in his tone sent a shiver through me, settling deep in my chest. It wasn't harsh, but firm enough that it stirred something within me.

It was the way he said it, like I had no choice in the matter, as if I was the child he needed to put to bed long after curfew.

I couldn't tell if it was the authority in his voice or the silent tension that had clung to him since he'd come back from work. Either way, something about it left me scrambling to get in bed before he spoke twice.

Wyatt had been distant all evening. Not a word at dinner, his silence heavy and unsettling. And now, with his piercing gaze on me, I felt caught between curiosity and something else—something that made my pulse race and my thoughts scatter.

Scrambling into the bed, I quickly turned my back to Wyatt, pulling the covers up to my chin as if the thin fabric could shield me from the weight of his presence.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to settle the rush of emotions swirling inside me. I could hear him moving around the room, and then, the bed dipped under his weight.

He slipped under the covers, and instantly, his scent surrounded me—earthy and warm with a hint of something fresh, almost like the air after rain. It was comforting, but it also made my heart race faster.

Before I could think or even brace myself, I felt him behind me. His body was so close I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

And then, to my surprise, Wyatt's strong arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me into him, my back colliding with his firm chest. The contact made me gasp, my breath catching in my throat as his heat enveloped me.

I tightly closed my eyes, feeling utterly flustered and overwhelmed. My heart hammered in my chest, and my mind raced, trying to process everything—the feel of his skin against mine, the weight of his arm around me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet I couldn't bring myself to pull away.

"Do you have a thing for my brother, Samuel?" Wyatt's deep voice rumbled low in my ear, the words cutting through the silence.

I bit my lips too overwhelmed to respond. I simple didn't trust my voice, what else was this going to lead to? So, I did the only thing I could think of—I pretended to be asleep, hoping he'd let it go.

But Wyatt wasn't one to let things slide. In an instant, he flipped me around, his movements firm but careful. My head came to rest on his arm as he hovered above me, his hand gripping my chin gently, pulling my face toward his.

His emerald eyes locked onto mine, demanding an answer. His warm breath washed over my skin, fresh and tinged with mint, and it only made me more flustered.

"I expect an answer to my question," he murmured, his tone firm but not harsh. His gaze never wavered, holding me captive in the moment.

Not trusting my voice, I shook my head, hoping he'd understand. But Wyatt wasn't having any of that. "Use your words, Hazel," he insisted.

I swallowed hard, my gaze inexplicably lowering to his lips, full and inviting. It took everything in me to muster a response, but finally, I whispered, "No."

"Good," he replied, a hint of approval in his voice. "You should stay away from my brother. No kissing, no touching. No nothing." His words were serious, but the way he held me made it hard to focus on anything but the warmth radiating between us.

Despite the weight of his warning, I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, caught in his arms and lost in the intensity of the moment. I tried to nod, to show that I understood, but my mind was racing, tangled in confusion and something else entirely.

"Okay," I finally managed to say, the word slipping from my lips.

I could see his eyes showing satisfaction. Wyatt's gaze then shifted, and suddenly, I felt the heat of his eyes on my lips, a moment stretching between us that felt surreal.

Slowly, Wyatt lowered his lips, the space between us closing with a maddening slowness that made my heart pound in my chest. My breath hitched, every second dragging as his face came closer.

When his lips finally brushed mine, it was soft—so soft I almost wasn't sure it had happened. But then he pressed more firmly, and the world seemed to tilt.

His lips were warm, firm but smooth, sending shivers through me. They moved with an unhurried confidence, as if he knew exactly how to draw me in, to make me melt.

My heart raced uncontrollably, my pulse echoing in my ears as the kiss deepened. I felt the heat of him.

Slowly, I gave in, parting my lips in surrender, and he responded immediately. The kiss turned into something more, something deeper. His tongue teased mine, the taste of him intoxicating.

The world blurred around us, everything fading until it was just the two of us—his lips moving against mine, slow and deliberate, drawing me further under his spell.

I circled my hands around his back, my fingers gripping the hard muscles beneath his skin. I could feel his body tense under my touch, the warmth of him seeping into me.

He shifted, pushing himself up over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, but all I could focus on was the way his mouth moved, commanding and gentle all at once.

His tongue slipped past my lips, teasing and exploring, tasting faintly of mint with a hint of something warm and uniquely Wyatt. It sent a shiver through me, and before I could stop myself, a soft moan escaped my throat, muffled against his mouth.

The sound seemed to urge him on, his tongue stroking mine with more intensity, and I melt further into the kiss. The taste of him was addictive, each flick of his tongue making my head spin, leaving me breathless and wanting more as I moaned again, lost in the heat of it all.

Our breaths mingled, the kiss becoming more heated, more urgent. My heart thudded in my chest as his body pressed closer, my hands moving to clutch at him, desperate to keep him there, to keep feeling this. Wyatt was everything, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Wyatt pulled away slowly, leaving my lips tingling and breathless. He leaned in one last time, placing a soft peck on my lips before fully pulling back. I blinked, my mind spinning from the kiss, and before I could process anything, he lay back down in bed, pulling me with him. My back collided with his warm chest again and his arm still wrapped around me, holding me close.

"Get some rest, we'll continue tomorrow." My eyes widen at his blatant words.

My emotions were all over the place—confusion, desire, and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability rushing inside me. My heart pounded in my chest.

My breath hitched, and my body tensed. I didn't want to think about what it was, even though I knew, deep down, what it meant. The realization sent another flush of heat to my cheeks, and I quickly closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart.

I lay there, flustered and overwhelmed, as Wyatt's steady breathing filled the room. Despite everything in my mind, exhaustion eventually crept in, and I drifted into a restless sleep, still wrapped in his arms.