Christina’s POV
Hudson smiled, wide and unrepentant. "You offered. Don’t back out now."
"Fine," I snapped.
His smirk grew wider as I slid my hand lower.
The muscles in his abdon clenched beneath my fingers, defined and hard. His breath caught, shallow and uneven, like he hadn’t expected to follow through.
I paused at his waistband, looking up once more, waiting for any hesitation. There wasn’t any.
Slowly, I slipped my hand under the band and touched him. He jerked imdiately, his hips twitching in reflex. My fingers circled, light and teasing.
His jaw tightened, and the sound he made, half groan and half growl, vibrated low in his chest. His fingers gripped the sheets beside us.
"You’re taking your sweet ti," I muttered.
"It’s not a race," he replied, his voice thick and ragged.
I kept my pressure steady, adjusting my grip slightly as I moved.
His breathing grew louder, his hips shifting against the mattress, following my rhythm. The tension built fast, I could feel it in how each breath ca sharper and heavier.
His hand found my waist and gripped tight, anchoring himself to . After a while, my arm started to cramp. My wrist ached, and my palm burned from friction.
"Hudson," I groaned. "My hand’s going numb."
"Just a little more," he muttered.
My patience completely snapped. My wrist was killing , but worse was the heat building inside .
Watching him breathe unsteadily because of what I was doing turned on and made curious, so I just stopped trying to be gentle.
I pulled my hand away completely.
"Mm..." he made a frustrated sound, lifting his eyes with a hazy, questioning look.
I didn’t explain. Just leaned down closer.
My hair brushed across his stomach and his muscles visibly tensed. I didn’t rush, just took in the sensation up close—the heat, the intense scent of him.
I let out a soft breath.
He sucked in air sharply, his abs clenching instantly.
I flicked my tongue out, barely grazing the tip.
"Shit—" he hissed, gripping the sheets, his whole body shuddering.
That reaction lit sothing up in . I opened my mouth and took him in, slow but sure.
The wet heat of my mouth wrapped around him, the sensation so vivid it made my heart race. A little salty, distinctly him—not unpleasant, actually kind of intoxicating.
I started moving awkwardly, my tongue clumsily exploring.
"Ugh..." he let out a stifled moan.
"Slower..." he said roughly, but his fingers threaded through my hair, pressing down. His words said slow, but his body was honest.
I looked up at him. His head was thrown back, neck taut, Adam’s apple bobbing, jaw sharp, sweat beading at his temples. That face that was always in control now showed nothing but barely contained pleasure.
I was doing this to him.
That realization set on fire too.
I stopped being gentle. Went deeper, faster, even tried sucking lightly. The feeling of being filled was strange, but hearing his increasingly heavy breathing and suppressed growls made feel incredible.
But as I focused on making him lose control, sothing was happening to too.
My stomach tightened, I got wet between my legs, my breathing quickened without noticing, my cheeks burned. Every movent, every ti I felt him pulse in my mouth, it was like I was teasing myself.
My movents beca more urgent, not just wanting him to finish, but more like trying to put out so fire that had started inside .
"Enough... stop..." his voice was completely shot, shaking, hands weakly pushing away.
I didn’t stop. Instead, when he tried to pull back, I pressed my tongue against his most sensitive spot and flicked it quickly.
Just that one move broke him completely.
"Ah—" he arched his back, crying out helplessly, his grip on my hair suddenly tight. Hot liquid hit the back of my throat as his whole body shook violently.
I swallowed, then let him gently pull away.
I sat back, breathing slightly hard, lips swollen and shiny, my chin and neck still wet. The need he’d stirred up in but left unsatisfied was burning even hotter now, the emptiness almost painful.
Hudson collapsed on the bed, chest heaving, taking a while to recover. He moved his hand away from his eyes and looked at . Those eyes still held traces of desire.
He stared at my wet lips, my flushed face, and the want I couldn’t hide in my eyes.
I quickly turned away. "Good night, Hudson."
"Christina," he said, his voice still husky. "Let help you..."
"No," I cut him off, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. "If you start touching , I’ll lose control. We both know how good you are at... that."
The mory of his skilled fingers and mouth made my thighs clench involuntarily.
I forced myself to close my eyes, determined to sleep before my resolve crumbled completely.
I didn’t rember when he left the bed or when he returned. I slept heavily, dreamlessly, until morning light filtered through the curtains.
I found myself pressed against silk pajamas covering Hudson’s chest. I reached up to touch it and felt solid muscle beneath the fabric.
"Morning," his voice rumbled above .
I tilted my head. He was watching , propped on one elbow like he hadn’t slept at all.
"What ti is it?" I asked.
"Little past nine."
"Seriously? I thought it was barely six."
I started to sit up, then gave up halfway and dropped back against Hudson’s warm chest. His arm tightened just enough to keep in place.
"Why’d you co last night?" I asked, pressing my cheek into the pillow. "You drove five hours?"
"No flight available," he explained. "Driver got here in five hours."
"You didn’t need to co. I told Ysolde to let you know I was fine."
"I know, but I was still worried."
He shifted lower and wrapped both arms around . I squird a little, getting comfortable, then glanced past his shoulder—
And froze.
On the nightstand sat a neat, ridiculous pyramid of condoms. All sealed. All different sizes. So had matte wrappers, others glossy. There were stripes, neon colors, even a shiny purple one that claid to be cinnamon-flavored.
Any trace of sleepiness vanished. I nearly launched out of his arms.
He was watching with that smug, unblinking stare that made my jaw twitch.
"When the hell did those show up?" I demanded.
He caught my hand and laced our fingers. "They were delivered earlier."
"They?" I yanked my hand free. Heat rushed up my neck. "You actually called the front desk?"
Hudson shrugged, nonchalant. "I just asked for pajamas. I didn’t know they’d include the whole room service catalog."
"Liar." I turned my face into the pillow, too mortified to look at him. "No hotel staff on Earth does that unless specifically asked."
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