by BETH KERY
“Yes. And you looked so beautiful, letting me have my way with you. I think we’ll go back upstairs now,” he mused. “I want my cock in you.”
“Yes. Yes,” she chanted, relieved and excited at once. She dropped her fork on her plate, growing mindless with excitement.
“But you will come first.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. She felt dizzy. His fingers were ruthless.
“I don’t think I should—”
“But you will,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. His entire arm began to move as he stimulated her pussy more forcefully. She cried out in stunned arousal, but fortunately the other couple had just walked away. She placed her palms flat down on the table, bracing herself, and she began to shake in orgasm.
“That’s right. That’s the real Lin,” he muttered thickly in her ear as pleasure shot through her in heady waves. “Hot. Sexy. Risk taker.”
She tried to whisper “no” but another shudder of pleasure blasted through her. She swallowed the word. Why deny it, when the truth of his words quivered in every cell of her body? Apparently she was a hot, sexy risk taker.
With Kam she was, anyway.
• • •
When they were on the elevator, he forced himself not to look at her. Something had happened to him while he’d sat there and watched her climax in that restaurant. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure he liked it. He felt strangely off kilter. Out of control.
Her image had been burned in his mind. He didn’t need to look directly at her now to remind himself—her cheeks and lips had grown rosy as he’d stimulated her, her lustrous eyes had turned even shinier than usual with arousal. He knew he’d never forget the vision of Lin setting her palms flat on the table and coming against his hand. It had been the most potent vision of surrender he’d ever seen. It’d driven him half-crazy with need. He’d shouted at the waiter when he saw him, startling the man, and demanded the check. He’d managed to shove some chicken in his mouth during the short wait, knowing he’d need the energy, because yet another storm was about to hit.
It made him feel uncomfortable, the magnitude of his lust, but he couldn’t seem to control it. This wasn’t something easily walked away from. Lin wasn’t.
He took her keys from her as they got off the elevator, and then grasped her hand, leading her down the hallway, neither of them speaking. He was eager, so much so that it seemed ridiculous to disguise it. The door flung inward at his urging, banging against the wall. Then he was pulling Lin over the threshold and slamming it shut behind them. She gave a surprised whimper when he swept down on her and covered her mouth with his own.
A haze overcame his consciousness as he absorbed her taste and the sensation of her tongue dueling with his. His hands made a greedy worship of her taut curves. Then he was lifting her to him and striding to the bedroom for the second time that evening. Was it just her physical beauty that drove him wild? He wondered dazedly as he set her at the edge of her bed and whipped off her shoes. Maybe. He’d already admitted to himself he’d never made love to a more beautiful woman. He peeled her out of her clinging jeans, revealing the smooth, pale harbor of her belly, round hips, and shapely thighs. He jerked down her panties. She lay back on the bed, spreading her legs slightly. He hissed a curse.
Who was he kidding, trying to figure it out? A man didn’t require logic to want that, he thought, staring hungrily at her pussy. Kam certainly didn’t.
He could tell by the arousing vision of her flushed, damp-looking outer sex that she didn’t need any preparation. He jerked down his clothing and sheathed his erection with a condom.
He rolled her hips back by pushing on her shins, keeping her pussy at the edge of the bed. Still standing, he arrowed his cock into her slit. She gave a sweet, soughing sigh as he penetrated her. Mon Dieu, it was good. He watched her with a narrow focus, knowing the tension in her face and the excitement in her eyes mirrored his own blatant arousal. When he’d pushed into her to the hilt, her muscular walls squeezing him, he paused. She was too small for him.
She was too perfect.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow, aren’t you?” he mumbled.
“Maybe,” she whispered urgently, reaching for his shoulders. Her fingernails dug into his back muscles. “But I’m not now. It feels so good. Fuck me.”
He exhaled roughly, her harsh whisper, so not like her and yet so completely Lin-like at once. The paradox of her, the sweetness, tore through him. “Oh baby, you’re going to get it for that,” he assured roughly.
He came down over her, his weight pinning her knees to her chest, his hands digging into the mattress. It was heaven.
“God,” he grated out, withdrawing his cock and then driving back into the glory of her. Again, he pumped, and again, both of them immediately finding their rhythm, the slap of their skin coming faster and faster a driving drumbeat neither could deny. The mattress began to hop up and down beneath them, the bedsprings making a squeaky protest. It filled his ears along with the sound of their smacking skin and Lin’s surprised gasps and whimpers of pleasure.
He was doing it again, taking her like she was a damn rodeo ride. He gritted his teeth at the thought, but he couldn’t stop. Her pussy rode his cock, not the other way around. He was big and strong and he was on top, driving into her slender, sleek body, but it was he who was helpless in the face of this relentless frenzy of need. He fucked her like he thought the answers to the questions of the universe were just a quarter of an inch higher in her tight, clasping depths and he was straining closer with every pass; hungry, searching . . .
He lost all sense of time, only feeling her holding him like he’d never been embraced.
He flexed his hips forcefully, slapping their bodies together. A cry popped out of her throat, but then he felt that telltale rush of heat and her muscles clamping him, adding fuel to his flames. He transferred his hands to the backs of her thighs and pushed, sending her knees down next to her ears. She straightened her legs as he continued to pump, her feet above both of their heads, demonstrating her flexible, strong muscles to optimal effect. His eyes sprung wide in disbelieving pleasure at the new angle she granted him. He fucked blindly, a madly racing, vibrating mass of electric nerves and flesh, striving and pushing and feeling . . .
. . . and feeling more, until he roared as pleasure crashed into him. He pressed his face against the side of Lin’s neck, burying his nose and lips in her fragrant skin.
“God, I want to be naked inside you,” he grated out against her throat almost angrily as he pumped and emptied himself inside the condom. It seemed indescribably unfair—ridiculously wrong—in that moment that even the thinnest of barriers should come between him and this woman.
• • •
“Do you want to talk about our meeting with Jason Klinf?” Lin murmured later as they embraced under the covers, growing increasingly relaxed as Kam massaged her neck and scalp. He really had the most amazing hands.
“Not really.”
Lin lifted her head off his chest. He gave her a heavy-lidded smirk and pulled her higher on his body. Using his hold on her head, he brought her to him. She melted against him, submitting to his drugging kiss.
“I think it’d be a good idea,” she said breathlessly against his mouth a moment later. “Just some basics about Klinf and Jason himself?”
His right eyebrow quirked upward. “I told you. I don’t like being your work duty.”
“Then do you want another Noble employee for the job?”
His lazy, satiated expression hardened. “Not a chance.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Then you’ve got to focus at least a little. Look, I’m not a fan of mixing business with pleasure, either. In fact, I’m going against all my principles doing this with you.”
He shut his eyes. Despite his impassive expression, she sensed his frustration and regretted it. Still . . . this w
as her job, and Lin did things right. Or at least she always had in the past. The realization hit her that if she wasn’t screwing Kam like a feline in heat every chance she got, she might be a lot more prepared for these upcoming meetings than she was.
She sighed with genuine regret and forced herself to move away from his deliciously warm, hard body. Kam’s touch was a logic evaporator. His jaw tightened when she extricated herself from it, but he didn’t say anything or move. Pulling the sheet up snugly over her breasts, she settled on the pillow next to where his head rested.
“Jason Klinf is a very cultured, sophisticated man,” she began.
“Hourra. Just my type,” Kam muttered under his breath.
Ignoring him, she launched into a brief overview of Klinf Inc., hitting some crucial industry highlights.
Kam didn’t move from his pose. It was a little distracting, talking business with him lying there with his naked, sculpted torso exposed, one hand lying casually over his head on the pillow, his taut, ridged abdomen falling up and down ever so subtly as he breathed evenly. Despite his negligent pose, however, she had the distinct impression he was listening closely to her.
“Klinf started his company on his own?” Kam interrupted her at one point.
“Yes,” she said pausing. “It’s a boutique business, a much smaller company than either Gersbach or Stunde, the company we’ll be meeting with next Thursday. You and Jason have some things in common, actually,” she said diplomatically.
He turned his head on the pillow, meeting her stare. “Such as?” he asked, looking slightly suspicious.
She kept her expression calm. He seemed to catch her sleight of hand with miraculous accuracy. In truth, she was more anxious about the meeting with Klinf than anyone. She was worried Kam’s raw honesty and Jason’s smooth sophistication would not be a good combination. “Well, Jason is French like you, for one. He’s also brilliant. Plus, you two are close in age. Jason is probably only three or four years older than you.”
“You just told me that he’s a darling of the fashion industry, a connoisseur of opera, wine, rare antiquities and women. Except for both being heterosexual, I don’t see that we have a bit in common.”
She gave him a repressive glance and continued. “Jason designs all his timepieces himself.”
“You mean he’s invented some novel technology? I’ve never heard—”
“No,” Lin interrupted him. “I mean that he designs the exterior, creating stunning watches that women across the globe would kill for. Each watch is handmade and exquisitely detailed. His watches are probably the most sought-after—and expensive—timepieces in the market.”
“You wear one.”
Lin blinked when she absorbed the tone of his voice. It’d sounded like an accusation. She met his sleety stare and found herself blushing. She wouldn’t have guessed that Kam had noticed the diamond Klinf watch she wore last night, although she suspected the Gersbachs would. She knew from experience, however, that Brigit herself owned a Klinf, so she hadn’t felt uncomfortable wearing it for the meeting. Jason’s fashionable luxury watches were almost like a different product from the Swiss-made timepieces, like comparing an exquisite bracelet to a Rolex.
“I do own one, yes,” she conceded.
“So you’re one of the few women on the planet who not only would ‘kill’ for a Klinf watch, you actually have the money to buy one?”
“I didn’t buy it,” she said before she could stop herself.
He sat up and turned onto his side, his elbow on the pillow, his head braced in his hand, his steady stare pinning her. Lin suddenly felt like the star witness who had just faltered. Kam was like the prosecutor going in for the kill.
“Jason Klinf gave you one of his priceless watches?” Kam asked evenly.
“Yes,” she said, giving him a sharp glare for making her feel like she’d just admitted to a crime.
“Did you date him?” he probed.
Lin gave a frustrated sigh. “I did, yes—a few times—but that has nothing to do with him giving me a watch. He did it as a courtesy following a technology exchange deal he did with Noble enterprises a couple of years back. What?” she demanded when she saw the hint of disdain cross Kam’s bold features.
“Nothing. It just figures he’d have to buy his technology from Ian. So who broke it off? Klinf or you?”
“Neither of us, really. It just sort of . . . faded away. It wasn’t like a blazing-comet romance or something. I wasn’t that interested, and Jason isn’t the type to settle down or anything. It was just two single people passing some time together pleasantly while he was here in town.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“No. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“According to you, it’s precisely my business,” he said calmly.
“I never—”
“You said I should be as prepared as I possibly can be for these meetings,” he interrupted. “Don’t you think any former relationship between two of the players, sexual or otherwise, is relevant to the situation?”
Her mouth fell open but her words stuck in her throat.
“Just tell me this,” Kam continued, taking advantage of her speechless state. “Is Jason Klinf one of the guys that Ian mentioned who you were unfortunate to have dated? One of the guys who didn’t appreciate your refinements and sensitivities or sensibilities, or however the hell he put it.”
“What?” she sputtered. “No, of course . . . Ian said that?”
“Yeah. He seems to think that you’re like a piece of fine porcelain that we men trample all over in our blind, savage stupidity.”
At first she just stared at him incredulously before the ridiculousness of what he was saying struck her. She burst into laughter. The familiar thundercloud expression darkened Kam’s face.
“What are you laughing about?” he demanded.
She tried to stop giggling, but only snorted. His scowl was priceless. She brushed her hand over his jaw, heartened to see her caress lighten his expression ever so slightly.
“It’s just hilarious. Why would Ian say something so strange to you?” she asked, repressing her mirth with effort.
Kam scooted closer to her. One second, they’d been apart, and the next his solid male body was close, skimming and brushing against tingling patches of her skin. His movement erased her erupting amusement like nothing else could.
“You think it’s strange, do you?” he murmured, a warning glint in his eyes, his face just inches from hers. His big hand opened at her lower back and lowered to her ass. He pushed her closer yet with a precise flex of his arm. She zipped across the sheets and thudded against his solid length. He paused, squeezing her buttock. Desire rippled through her when she felt his obvious response to their pressing naked bodies.
“Yes. Don’t you?” she asked, her chin tilting up to bring his mouth into striking distance of her own.
He held her stare and shook his head slowly. “I think Ian’s got a point. You certainly turn me into an animal.”
A smile flickered across her lips. “I don’t think that’s what Ian meant.”
“He meant I should be careful with you,” Kam said distractedly. Even though the light was dim, she sensed his gaze drop to where her breasts pressed against his chest. “But it’s just so fucking hard when all I want to do is . . . fuck you hard,” he muttered before he kissed her—hot and toe curling—and Lin gave up entirely on making sense of their conversation. He lifted his head slightly a moment later. “I want you again,” he stated the obvious, which throbbed against her thigh. “I know you’re probably sore. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be civilized.”
She closed her eyes and moaned softly as he shaped one of her breasts to his palm.
“I don’t want you civilized,” she whispered before she pressed her lips to his and lost herself in Kam’s wild, fierce heat.
> • • •
Kam awoke in the early morning hours. Rather than being disoriented like he had been almost every day when he woke up in his claustrophobic hotel room, he knew precisely where he was. The scent from Lin’s hair combined with the unmistakable fragrance of sex lingering in the air had pleasantly warned him even before he’d opened his eyes.
He’d left the bedroom door open when he rushed Lin in here earlier, laid her on the bed and ravaged her. A light was on in the hallway, the distant glow sufficient for him to see Lin’s face on the pillow next to him. For a few seconds, he just studied her sublime beauty cast in shadow and pale gold. He recalled in vivid detail their last joining. She’d been on top, her face tight with pleasure, her breasts heaving, her round hips gyrating in a graceful, precise rhythm that had left him sweating. He’d finally taken control, driving her down on him until her cries had grown frantic and she’d shuddered around him, her bliss driving him straight over the edge with her.
So much for going easy on her. He knew very well she was tender from his forceful lovemaking, but he couldn’t seem to stop this frenzy of need.
He waited for the urge to leave her bed to settle on him, studying her peaceful expression the whole time. It finally dawned him that the impulse wasn’t coming. Instead, he wanted to pull her against him and join her in the warm, secure cocoon of deep sleep.
He stiffened at the realization. The only woman he’d ever regularly spent the night with had been Diana. Even with Diana, however, he’d sometimes awakened in the middle of the night feeling claustrophobic. Suffocated. He’d controlled the impulse to flee, however, knowing it wasn’t appropriate with the woman he loved.
The Kam Reardon who had first arrived in London for college at seventeen, the awkward, brutish young man, had vanished, replaced by a well-groomed and cosmopolitan, if occasionally taciturn, cardiology resident with a brilliant future. The nearly ten years he’d spent in London had altered him beyond recognition. Many of the quirky mannerisms he’d acquired at Aurore Manor had to be willfully abandoned, strangled out of existence, or at best controlled. His brooding, harsh moods morphed into reserved, aloof ones. He’d believed in the rightness of his self-discipline of his more idiosyncratic, loner mannerisms until the day Diana had found out about his parentage and bizarre, inglorious upbringing. He’d believed until the day she’d fabricated a lie for him to give as a cover story to their affluent “friends.” Until he’d stubbornly shoved his ragged, shameful past into her and her friends’ faces, publically humiliating her—or so Diana had claimed.
