Chapter 147

Summer let out a soft moan, her voice sweet and sultry, the lingering sound teasing like a whispered invitation.

“You want me too.”

Fraser’s eyes darkened dangerously, his gaze burning with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Desire flickered there—raw, unhidden.

Summer struggled to cling to her reason. “Fraser… we… we should talk first.”

“No.”

Before she could react, Fraser leaned in again. One hand gripped her waist firmly, while the other tilted her chin upward, leaving her no room to turn away.

His lips crashed against hers, claiming her in a kiss that was dominant, urgent, and filled with restrained longing.

The faint scent of cigarette smoke mixed with pinewood lingered between them.

Summer felt heat rush through her veins, her knees weakening beneath her.

Fraser’s large hands lifted her injured leg carefully, supporting her without hurting her.

Then—at the very last moment—

“Fraser, stop!” Summer gasped, her eyes snapping open.

Fraser pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven, his dark eyes locked onto hers.

His voice was low and hoarse. “I want you so badly tonight, Summer. Will you give yourself to me?”

The way he said her name—low, raspy—made her breath hitch.

She couldn’t resist.

The hand that had been pushing him away slowly relaxed.

In the next moment, his fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt, unfastening them one by one.

They fell softly to the floor.

In the dim light, her porcelain-white skin became an irresistible temptation.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured. “I won’t touch your leg.”

Their bodies moved together naturally, perfectly in sync. Their silhouettes merged against the floor-to-ceiling windows as the city lights glowed faintly behind them.

The air was thick with heat and desire, pulsing between them.

Summer felt light—like she was floating in a dream.

And yet, she was also being pulled under by something deeper, something she couldn’t fight.

Wave after wave carried her higher, until all she could do was hold on.

Afterward, Fraser carried her into the bathroom.

Clear water rippled in the tub as he stepped in, holding her close against his chest.

Foamy body wash lathered over their skin as he carefully cleaned her, his movements gentle and attentive.

Even beneath the bubbles, faint red marks dotted her delicate body—silent, undeniable traces of their night.

Fraser wiped her down slowly, his palm gliding over her soft, smooth skin.

When he finished, he wrapped her in a silk robe and helped her dress, tying it loosely around her waist.

Summer felt boneless, dazed, as if she were still half-lost in a dream.

She leaned against him instinctively, her fingers curling into his sleeve.

“Fraser… we should—” she started softly.

Before she could finish, he tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

She looked down at his hand resting protectively against her, steady and warm.

The room was quiet, bathed in soft light, the city stretching endlessly beyond the glass.

In that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.