Page 124 of The Tower

I straddle him on the sofa, taking him inside me inch by deliberate inch, watching his face as pleasure overtakes control. His hands grip my hips, guiding but not directing, allowing me to set the pace. I lean forward, my hair creating a curtain around us as I kiss him deeply.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice full of wonder. “The way you feel … the way you move …”

I roll my hips, taking him deeper, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. “Show me,” I whisper, my confidence growing with each gasp, each broken curse I pull from him. “Show me what you like.”

His hands tighten on my hips, urging me to move faster, harder. I comply, losing myself in the rhythm, in the building pleasure, in the expression of raw need on his face.

When release comes, it’s less like breaking and more like soaring—a sustained peak that has me crying out his name, my body clenching around him as he follows, his own climax triggered by mine.

Afterward, we curl together on the rug in front of the sofa, a blanket pulled over our cooling skin, the half-empty champagne bottle forgotten on the coffee table. His fingers trace idle patterns on my bare shoulder as I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“We’re going to have to get up eventually,” he says, though he makes no move to do so.

“Mmm,” I agree without conviction. “Eventually.”

The peaceful moment is shattered by the sound of a side door opening. We both freeze, then scramble to cover ourselves more thoroughly with the throw.

“Mr. Grimm?” a male voice calls. “The car’s been outside a while, I thought I’d check—oh!”

A middle-aged man in casual but crisp attire stands in the entryway, his face turning an impressive shade of red as he takes in the scene before quickly averting his eyes.

“James,” Liam says with remarkable composure. “We arrived a bit earlier than expected.”

“I see that, sir,” James replies, still looking determinedly at the ceiling. “Shall I come back later to prepare the house?”

Liam glances at me, amusement dancing in his eyes despite the awkwardness of the situation. “Give us half an hour, then you can prepare dinner. Ms. Reed will be staying with me.”

“Very good, sir,” James says, backing toward the door. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Reed,” he adds with admirable politeness before beating a hasty retreat.

The moment the door closes behind him, I burst into laughter, burying my face against Liam’s chest. “Oh, my god,” I gasp between fits of giggles. “His face!”

Liam’s laughter joins mine, his arms tightening around me. “Poor James. nine years of service and I’ve never given him a shock like that.”

“Should I feel honored?” I ask, looking up at him with mock seriousness.

“Absolutely,” he confirms, dropping a kiss on my nose. “Now, as much as I hate to say it, we should probably get dressed before he comes back with the rest of the staff.”

“Staff?” I echo. “How many people work here?”

“Just a few,” he says, disentangling himself from the blanket and beginning to gather our scattered clothing. “James manages the property, his wife Maria handles the cooking when I’m staying here, and there’s a groundskeeper who lives in a cottage at the edge of the property.”

I stand, wrapping the throw around me like a makeshift dress. “And all of them will know exactly what we’ve been doing,” I point out, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

Liam grins, entirely unrepentant. “Would you like a tour of the house now? Or do you want to clean up first?”

I consider the pleasant stickiness between my thighs, the champagne spilled on my skin, the general dishevelment of my appearance. “Clean up,” I decide. “Definitely clean up.”

He nods, gathering the rest of our clothes. “The master bath has a shower big enough for two.” His eyes skim over me. “Though I can’t promise we’ll actually get much cleaner.”

I laugh, shaking my head at his insatiability—which, to be fair, matches my own. “Lead the way,” I say, following him toward what I assume is the master suite. “And after that, you can show me the rest of this amazing place.”

As we move through the house, his hand warm on the small of my back, I’m struck by how surreal this all feels. Twenty-four hours ago, I was preparing to face my father in court, uncertain of my future, my freedom hanging in the balance. Now I’m here, in this beautiful house with this complicated man, celebrating a victory that still doesn’t feel quite real.

But as Grimm leads me into a bedroom that’s all-understated luxury, as he unwraps the blanket from my body with reverent hands, as his mouth finds mine in a kiss that promises more pleasure to come—this, at least, feels utterly real.

This connection, this moment, this man.

Whatever tomorrow brings—the challenges of running my mother’s company, the ongoing search for my fugitive father, the complexities of whatever exists between Grimm and me—for now, I’ll take this—pure, uncomplicated joy and freedom, long overdue.