by Madison Faye
Him.
I swallow, my eyes sliding back across the dark, smoky club until they land on him, sitting on a leather couch over in the private area. There are gorgeous women in tiny, crazy expensive club dresses on either side of him, and I blink in surprise at the rush of jealousy that burns hotly through me.
I watch as he tosses back another drink—what looks like vodka, on ice, and with three lemon slices. I file it away in my mental dossier on him, wondering if I’ll need to know his drink later.
…Later, when we… well, I haven’t actually thought that far. No, scratch that. I have thought that far. Many, many times. And every night this week when I’ve gone home to my solo apartment, I’ve thought about what comes next in far more detail. How could I not? I mean, just look at him.
My gaze drags from his drink, up his hand, over the arm of his perfectly tailored suit that shows off just enough of a stretch around his arms to indicate he’s got more muscles than you’d except from a billionaire hedge fund manager. I tease my eyes higher, across the stiff collar of his dress shirt, and then up to his face. And then, just like the hundred other times I’ve looked at him, a hot flush shivers through my body.
Because the man I’m supposed to seduce, and who’s… sperm I’m supposed to steal, is stone-cold gorgeous.
His name is Knox Carmichael. He has dark blond hair, piercing green eyes, and at thirty years old, is one of the youngest multibillionaires on earth. And like I said, he’s also staggeringly good looking. Sharp, chiseled, aristocratic features, but with this slightly gruff, ever-so-slightly roughed-around-the-edges feel to him that just gives him this edge of dangerous attraction. He’s the mistake you can’t wait to make.
…And mistake or not, it’s time.
I take a big gulp of my lime juice and sugar, as if the virgin cocktail has some sort of nerve-steeling alcohol in it, and I stand. My hands tremble as I smooth my dress, but I force myself to breathe as I turn and walk towards him. I know what the next part of this will mean. At the very least, doing something with a man I’ve never done before. At most, giving him my virginity. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that it’s on the table, and knowing that I have to be okay with that. Because the other thing on the table is one-hundred thousand dollars, and that can’t be ignored.
But then, the truth is, knowing that I may very well sleep with this man tonight, for my very first time, isn’t just something I “have to” be okay with. With Knox Carmichael, it’s almost an incentive. A dare. A tease.
My pulse thuds in my ears as I walk towards him, calming myself, forcing myself to breathe easy. At the velvet ropes to the VIP area, I flash a coy smile at the bouncer, just like the coaches at The Agency taught me this week, and instantly, I get right back. The big man winks at me as he unclips the velvet rope, and I’m stepping through when I feel his big hand on the small of my back.
“Listen sweet thing,” he purrs out. “This is the VIP area.”
I turn, swallowing as I nod. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’re not VIP.”
Shit.
My brow furrows as I try and force a smile.
“Oh, but I’m sure it’s—”
“Oh, it is fine that you’re here. You just gotta help me out first.” He winks salaciously and a cold sensation creeps through me.
“You feel me? You wanna play with the rich boys tonight? How about you come for a little walk with me and I get little tast—”
“Get your fucking hands off of her.”
The deep, thundering voice booms over us, and I actually jump, my heart leaping into my throat, as I whirl. And there, standing from the couch, his broad shoulders straining at his tailored suit and his piercing eyes blazing into me, is Knox Carmichael.
“You,” he snarls, pointing right at the bouncer. The big man instantly quavers, blubbering out apologies and how he “didn’t know she was with you, Mr. Carmichael.” Knox just glares at him, and the man backs away, all but bowing to the ground as he does. I watch him grovel away, and when I turn back, I gasp as I realize the fierce green eyes of my target are blazing right into mine. He raises a hand, never blinking, never taking his gaze off my eyes as he crooks two fingers, beckoning me as he sits.
I stroll over, instantly getting stink-eyes from the two girls at his side. But Knox is giving me his full and undivided attention, and I blush as his eyes travel slowly over me.
This is a thrill I’ve never known before—a man’s eyes on me, with that hunger in them.
He stands again from the couch as I approach, his eyes never leaving mine and never blinking as he downs the rest of his drink and places it on the low table in front of the couch. One of the two beauties still sitting on the couch glares daggers at me before she plasters a sweet smile on her face and reaches for Knox’s hand, whispering something I can’t hear over the music. But Knox simply pulls his hand away, turning to each of them with a glare and muttering as he gestures with his chin, the two girls stare fire at me as they stand, bristling, and storm off.
“You.”
Knox’s deep, velvet and scotch voice rumbles through me, and when those eyes pierce right into my very soul, I very quickly know that I am in way over my head.
“Me?” I croak out, trying and probably failing to smile coyly.
Knox’s lips pull back in this gorgeous, hungry smile.
“Yes, you,” he growls, those eyes blazing into mine. He steps from behind the small drink table in front of the couch and moves towards me, never blinking, his gaze never wavering, and his eyes just scorching right into me.
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
I swallow, trying to force myself to look sultry, and poised, not terrified and clearly in way over my head.
“Elise,” I lie.
Knox moves closer, until he’s right in front of me—inches from me—and looming over me.
“You’re coming with me.”
It shouldn’t be this hot to hear a man say that—a command, as if I was his property to come or go at his beck and call. And yet, when he says it, my skin tingles, my core tightens, my nipples strain at the front of my dress, and my panties instantly grow wetter.
I’m going with him. I know it’s not a discussion, and yet, I also know it’s everything I want.
And also, it means it’s time. It’s really happening, and it’s time to do this. I smile at him—coyly, coolly, seductively… at least, I hope.
“Who, me?” I say with a sassy grin on my face. Knox’s lips pull back in a hungry smile, his jaw tight and green fire blazing in his eyes.
“Yes, little one,” he purrs, making me tremble again. “You.”
I bite my lip, smiling at him through the nerves and the rush and the excitement searing through my veins. My hand slips into my little clutch, fingers touching the special “sample cup” from The Agency.
It’s time. Time to stop being the sheltered little virgin from backwater Louisiana. Time to stop hoping and praying for some overtime hours at work so I can afford my apartment and maybe some food. Time to jump into the deep end and get this job done.
Except, the really, really naughty thing is? The part that’s actually way worse, and way dirtier than doing what I’m about to do with a man I don’t know for a hundred thousand bucks? It’s that deep down, with him?
…With him, I’d do all of this for free.
4
KNOX
OH, it’s almost not even fair. She truly still thinks she’s the hunter and not the hunted, and she’s blissfully unaware of how very aware of her I am. Yes, I’ve been watching her trying to casually watch me in the club every night this week. Hell, it’s the very reason I’ve even been going every night. I hardly ever go out, and never for five goddamn nights in a row. Who the fuck has time for that? Especially if you’re a man like me with zero interest in the hangers-on and the bank-account-fuckers and club-girls who troll places like that for men like me.
But I knew she’d be looking for me there, trying to “case” me or
whatever she’s been doing, and so I just kept showing up. Five nights of sipping my still water over ice with lemon wedges, everyone around me thinking I’m knocking back ten vodka-rocks without even missing a step like some kind of rock-n-roll legend.
But no, I kept my head clear, as I normally do. Because for five nights, I was there for one reason and one reason only: to let her get closer and closer, until it was too late to avoid me pouncing.
The truth of it is, this whole thing goes back even farther than you could possibly imagine. But whatever it is, she’s here now. And now, she’s mine.
She follows next to me, moving quickly and a bit wobbly on her big fuck-me heels. We head to the back of the club, and a nod at one of the other bouncers I know—the one smart enough to not try and pick up or fucking touch Simone—and he turns to press a button in the wall for us. A panel slides open to an elevator, and I swear I hear Simone swallow with a gulp as it opens for us.
“Come,” I purr, taking her hand and pulling her into the elevator before turning and pushing the button for the roof. Yes, I could drive, but tonight is about wowing her. Tonight, I want her jaw on the ground. And when we step out onto the helipad on the roof of the building to find my private chopper already fueled and ready, her jaw is most certainly on the ground.
We fly north from Tribeca over the Bowery and the West Village, over Chelsea and Gramercy, Murray Hill, and Midtown West, before we start to approach the sparse, twinkling lights of Central Park. In the back of the chopper, with our headgear on and the engines humming around us, I turn to appraise her sitting there next to me, staring in awe out the window at a view I see basically daily.
God is she beautiful. She’s perfect, really. Sweet, innocent, and yet, somehow sultry too. She senses my eyes on her, and when she turns and catches me, she blushes. I don’t even blink. She says something I can’t hear at all, and I just smile as I tap the button on my headset and nod at her. She blushes again, touching the talk button on her own headset that allows us to talk privately over the headphones set into the gear.
“It’s beautiful.”
Yes, you are, little one.
“You don’t do this a lot, do you.” It’s ambiguously worded on purpose. Do I mean “fly over Central Park at night in a helicopter,” or do I mean “come home with a strange man you’ve never met?” I want her guessing, but I also want her knowing deep down which one I’m really asking.
At the same time though, it’s bait. I know she never does this—and I do mean going home with a strange man—which is one of the reasons I’m so entranced by her. I’ve done my homework. I know there’s never been a man. Not even a boy. Oh, sure, a boyfriend back in school before she moved to New York—Tom. But my research was deep, and diligent. And I know Tom got a few chaste, after-date kisses, but nothing else. That alone makes me furious, but I tamp it down. She’s had a boy give her kisses. She’s never had a man claim her mouth.
The chopper lands on the private helipad to my penthouse, and I help her out and then down the stairs to the elevator to my domain. My pulse is thundering, my skin tingly with raw need, and my cock is hard as stone between my legs. I’ve waited. I’ve bided my time. I’ve set things in motion to bring her right here, to me.
And now, the wait is over.
I know I could, and maybe should, wait until we’re inside, but the second the elevator doors close, the very last of my control shatters like ice. My finger punches the stop button on the elevator, and as she gasps at the sudden halt, I whirl, and in half a second, my lips are searing to hers. The growl rumbles through me, and Simone whimpers quietly as I push her back until her ass hit’s the glass wall of the entirely glass elevator. Behind her, all of Central Park West and the park itself glitters like diamonds, but I only have eyes for her. She moans softly as I cup her face with one hand and grab her hip possessively with the other, simultaneously pulling her into me and pressing her against the glass.
“Is this what you were after, spying on me like that, little one?” I growl into her lips. She whimpers in response, panting, and I can feel her pulse absolutely racing in the hollow of her neck as I cup her jaw.
“I—what do you—”
“You know what I mean,” I purr before my lips crush to hers again. My tongue pushes against them, and when she whimpers again and slowly parts them for me, I know she’s mine. My hand slides from her hip, pushing lower until it firmly cups the soft, tight swell of her ass. She moans, and her own hands which have been idle by her side—like she doesn’t know what to do with them—suddenly come up and grip my shirt tightly, eagerly. I firmly cup her ass, and when I start to tug the skimpy red dress higher, she gasps, but doesn’t stop me as it slips up over her sweet curves.
Her ass it right against the glass, for all of the city to see. Except, not really. The elevator that runs down the outside of my building from the helipad to my penthouse is only glass from the inside. On the outside, it’s mirrors. Please. As if I’d allow anyone else to see her like this or catch a glimpse of her perfect little ass. No, no one can see her. No one but me.
My hand slides to her bare ass, and I grunt into her lips as I palm that soft, silky-smooth skin. My fingers brush over the lacy edge of her thong as it dips down between her cheeks, and my cock swells at the thought of peeling that little lacy thing right off of her to get at what’s mine to taste.
To claim.
To fuck.
I kiss her fiercely as my fingers loop under the back of her thong, tugging gently and making her gasp into my lips. My hand slides around, keeping one finger hooked under the skimpy waist of her panties as I make my way to the front of her. Simone kisses me even more eagerly, moaning into my mouth and absolutely melting into me as my hand moves to the front of her panties, lingering there and relishing the feel of her heat pulsing behind the lace.
Heat, and wetness. Wetness I can feel right through her fucking panties.
“So wet for me,” I growl into her lips. She moans, eyes closing as she swallows thickly and nods eagerly.
“This what you wanted tonight, little one?” I purr quietly. “For a man like me to touch these naughty little bad girl panties and feel how soaking wet you get?”
She whimpers, but she shakes her head.
“No,” she says quietly, her eyes still closed.
“No?”
She shakes her head again, and this time, she opens her eyes, and those baby-blues burn right into me.
“Not a man like you,” she whispers heatedly. “You.”
I growl as I slam her back against the glass, kissing her ferociously as my hand slides down the front of her panties.
“Good,” I growl. “Because you’re mine and mine alone. And I’ve been dying to taste this sweet little pussy.”
My fingers slip under the edge of her panties, and Simone moans eagerly as I tug them to the side. I’d go slower, but I can’t. I won’t. Not this first time. I don’t think it’d be possible to slow this train right now. And besides, there’ll be many, many more times where I can go slower and take my damn time.
…After all, she’s going to be my wife.
It’s crazy, perhaps, but I know what I’m doing. I know what I saw the second I saw her, and I know there’s no way she’s leaving here tonight without a ring on her finger.
No, scratch that. She’s not leaving here tonight at all.
I kiss her fiercely and deeply, our tongues swirling together until she’s breathless and panting, her body undulating almost on instinct against me. I pull away from her lips, leaving her moaning for more as I kiss my way down her jaw. And then, I drop to my knees in front of her.
The thought of tasting her cunt has consumed me for far too long. And now, it’s time for my prize. My hands push her dress up high, and the higher it goes, the breathier her whimpers get. When I push it up over her black, lacy thong panties, her breath catches, and I look up to see her face bright red and her eyes wide as she stares at me with her lips slightly parted—in shock, in excitement
. Maybe in nervousness.
Definitely in anticipation.
My fingers hook under the waist of her panties, and I tug, peeling them slowly down over her soft, supple tummy. They slide delicately off her hips, and when the gusset clings to her lips—sticking to her wetness—I groan, and tug, and slowly, they peel away.
Jesus fuck. I knew she was gorgeous, but her pussy is a goddess.
My eyes drag back up to her lust-hooded eyes, locking with her gaze as I move in. I breathe across her first, making her gasp, and then slowly, my tongue touches her. Simone gasps, her body trembling as my tongue drags slow and flat across her smooth, velvety lips—pink and wet and so goddamn sweet. Like a little candy pussy, all for me.
She moans, her eyes hooded with lust as she looks down at me. And I hold her gaze as I repeat the motion, dragging my tongue slowly and wetly from the base of her pussy all the way up to her clit. I curl my tongue around her little bud, rolling it gently against my lips as Simone gasps, her jaw hanging open and her face crumpling in pleasure.
I growl into her, my hands holding her hips and pinning her to the glass behind her as I tongue her little cunt. My cock pulses and throbs in my slacks, dripping precum into my briefs until they’re soaked in my desire for her, and I can feel my balls boiling with cum.
…Lucky her, since that’s what she’s here for.
I tongue her faster, and with a bit more pressure, swirling my tongue around her clit before I push it deep in her pussy. She moans wildly as I start to fuck her with my tongue, plunging it in and out, groaning into her as I feel her candy-sweet honey dripping down my chin. My hands slide around to her ass, gripping that tight little butt in my firm grip and pulling her against my mouth as I push her closer and closer to that edge with my tongue.
Her hips start to move with a mind of their own, and I growl, loving the way little miss innocent is flat out thrusting her pussy against my mouth, like she needs more.
