by C. C. Gibbs
Quickly stepping back, fevered, his orgasm pounding at the barricades, he swiftly lifted her off the footstool, flipped her over, shoved the footstool out of the way and said, tautly, ‘Hands and knees, baby.’ But he helped pull her up, steadied her briefly, then said in minimum explanation, ‘I hope you don’t mind but the table’s too low.’
She tossed him a smile over her shoulder, wiggled her bottom like she hadn’t come in a month and asked, cheerfully, ‘Is this a good height?’
‘Jesus, baby, as if I need encouragement,’ he said through his teeth, trying to keep it together, her slick pink pussy gleaming like a vision of paradise, framed by creamy thighs and her perfect ass.
‘Fuck me hard this time,’ she purred, glancing back, her green gaze hot with longing, rotating her hips in a tantalizing little swivel. ‘I’m so horny. Please?’
‘I wish I could, baby.’ He couldn’t remember when he’d been this horny. Probably when he was fourteen and jacking off twenty times a day. ‘But after that last high-octane orgasm of yours, let’s take it easy.’
She suddenly shuddered. ‘Dominic please,’ she panted, her hips twitching. ‘I’m fine. I need to really feel you, now! Don’t torture me. Just do it!’ she wailed.
Dominic dragged in a breath, quickly ran through the mantras he knew for controlling his dick. But little pearly droplets were sliding down her inner thighs, her pussy visibly pulsing. Which meant the goddamn landing strip was fucking open. How could he even think about restraint with her quivering ass and succulent slit his for the taking?
Although still not completely lost to all reason, he entered her cautiously.
To another wail of discontent. ‘What are you doing?’ she cried.
‘Trying not to hurt you,’ he muttered, struggling to resist his body’s urgent momentum, thinking maybe you lost control when it mattered who you were fucking. When it mattered a lot. But ruthlessly curbing his lust, he gripped her hips tighter, controlling her, himself.
If he hadn’t been completely blindsided when she shoved her hand back, grabbed his leg at the same time she powered her pretty ass into reverse, he might have better withstood her preemptive strike.
Jesus, she was strong when she was horny, Dominic thought, wondering how vigorously he should guard his non-existent virtue, more to the point whether he should save her from herself. But he wasn’t a monk, nor virtuous and when she panted, ‘Harder, harder, harder!’ self-discipline aside, it was just too fucking much for any man with a dick and a heartbeat.
He drove into her like a rampaging animal, violent, hard, his legs spread as if he needed more traction.
She screamed.
But even savagely roused, and rutting like a mad beast, he knew the difference between pleasure and pain in a woman’s scream. So he didn’t stop; she didn’t stop. They both pitched and reeled, hammered and drilled, plunged and thrust, but never for long in Katherine’s current insatiable mood. Even in the dissolving chaos that slight thought remained alive in his brain. So when he felt her go still, gasp, begin to convulse around him, he held himself deep inside her – infinitely polite even in extremis for the woman he loved. His own orgasm tightly curbed, breathing hard, he waited and waited and waited until, at last, her orgasm burned away completely.
An explosive nanosecond later, he climaxed like a bare-fanged beast, hard and snarling, grunting and pounding, hammering away with such brute aggression he found himself shaking when it was over.
For long hushed, improbably raw moments, neither moved, Dominic holding up Kate who was unsteady under the strain of so many violent orgasms, both still breathless, pleasure still tightly rocking their senses.
But driven by politesse and duty, Dominic finally gave himself a little shake, sucked in some air, then lifted Kate into his arms, sat down, held her on his lap, and gently stroked her back until she slowly opened her eyes. ‘I’m really sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
She smiled. ‘Hey, I asked you.’
He blew out a breath. ‘I still shouldn’t have been such a brute. I feel like shit.’
She reached up and brushed her fingers down his jaw. ‘Stop apologizing. I love you. You didn’t do anything wrong.’
He softly exhaled. ‘We gotta see that doctor. Then I can stop freaking. But OK, OK,’ he added at Kate’s frown. ‘Subject closed. I’ll dress you and we’ll go upstairs.’ Using a dinner napkin to wipe up some of the mess, he put Kate’s pyjamas back on as she rested on his lap, then came to his feet and set her back in the chair. ‘Are you going to fall if I let go?’
She smiled. ‘I’m stronger than you think.’
He didn’t argue, but he kept one hand on her shoulder while he pulled on his pyjama pants. Ignoring his T-shirt, he picked her up, carried her out of the dining room, past the servants in the front hallway, and upstairs to their bedroom.
She was sleeping before he reached his room.
That’s how strong Katherine is, dude. Keep it in mind. After tucking her into bed, Dominic took a quick shower to wake up, and made a few calls. Afterwards he answered emails for an hour, then worked on two reports that required immediate answers. That done he climbed into bed, pulled Kate into his arms, finally relaxed and soon fell asleep.
He came awake with a start and glanced at the clock. Fuck … three a.m. Lifting Katherine’s hand that was tapping his chest, he brought it to his mouth, kissed her palm, looked down and smiled sleepily. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m hungry.’
Mentally shaking himself fully awake, he unwrapped his arm from around her shoulder, and slid up into a sitting position. ‘What would you like?’
‘I’ve been lying here thinking about that mac and cheese. Although I can go and get it if you tell me where to go.’
‘No, I’ll go.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘You won’t find the kitchen in the dark.’
‘You don’t have to heat it. Cold mac and cheese is fine.’
He turned around as he came to his feet. ‘Cold? You’re kidding.’
‘I like it cold.’
‘If you say so, baby. Anything else?’ He reached for his robe.
‘Maybe one of those leftover sandwiches.’
He shrugged into the terry cloth robe. ‘You’re not going to eat that cold.’
‘Didn’t you ever eat leftovers standing in front of the fridge? Everything’s cold. It’s good.’
‘Can’t say that I did.’ He tied the belt. ‘But I believe you.’ Standing at the door a moment later, he said, ‘Last chance. Any more requests?’
‘I don’t suppose there’re any of those chocolate tea cakes left?’
‘Christ, I hope not. That was three days ago.’
‘The truffle filling should still be good. Truffles last.’
He sighed. ‘I don’t want you getting sick.’
‘Just check, OK? Truffle filling would be so delicious right now.’
‘I’ll see. I’m not promising anything. But I’ll bring the rest of the food.’
‘I really want some truffles.’
‘If it wasn’t three in the morning I’d have someone go and get you some, but I think it would be breaking and entering this time of night.’
‘I didn’t mean for anyone to go anywhere.’
‘So you’re just breaking my balls for some stale tea cakes.’
She smiled. ‘Even one would be great – unless there’s more.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he grumbled. ‘But like I said, I’m not promising anything.’
‘Even just the mac and cheese would be perfect.’
He laughed. ‘Liar. OK, stay under the covers so you don’t get cold. This’ll take me a while.’
It did take him some time because he’d never been to the kitchen of his London house. He knew it was on the lower level, but after taking two wrong turns and ending up first in the wine cellar and next in what looked to be the furnace room, he backtracked to the base of the stairs and shouted for Q
uinn.
Eight other members of his staff quickly appeared in various states of undress, some alarmed, others wondering if their employer was roaring drunk because he’d never come downstairs before.
Quinn moved out from the small crowd, buttoning his shirt.
‘I apologize for waking everyone,’ Dominic said. ‘But Miss Hart decided she was hungry and I can’t find the kitchen.’
‘This way, sir.’ Quinn motioned to his right.
‘Please, everyone go back to sleep. I’d like to say this won’t happen again but I’m afraid it may. And I apologize in advance for what could become an erratic schedule if Miss Hart continues to get hungry in the middle of the night. She might not always want leftovers.’
‘Not a problem, sir,’ Quinn said, waving everyone off. ‘Follow me.’
As it turned out, the kitchen was at the front of the house, and when Quinn flipped on the lights, Dominic gazed with amazement at the enormous space.
‘Looks like we’re ready for royal dinners.’
‘As a matter of fact, the kitchen was built to accommodate royal dinners. One of Bertie’s favourite new millionaires lived here in the eighteen-nineties. Bertie made him a peer in return for his splendid hospitality.’
‘You don’t say,’ Dominic murmured.
Quinn grinned. ‘I do. If you want a peerage you’re going to have to entertain more.’
‘That’s the last thing I want to do.’ Dominic smiled at his chef who looked like he could lift a house without breaking a sweat. Max had found him like he found all the rest of staff and Dominic suspected Quinn might have fired a weapon or two in his past. ‘I’m not the sociable type.’
‘I noticed,’ Quinn drawled, a remnant of his Irish brogue softening his words. ‘So what do you need at three a.m.?’
‘Some sleep,’ Dominic said, grinning. ‘But before that, I need,’ and he listed the items Katherine had requested.
He sat at a long stainless steel counter while Quinn assembled the food.
‘You sure nothing’s to be heated?’
‘Those are my orders. Personally …’ Dominic’s voice trailed off. ‘But we’d better not. Do you have children?’ Demands in the middle of the night reminded him of Melanie’s youngsters.
‘I do. They’re grown now. Great kids. My wife raised them. I wasn’t home much.’
‘Do they like you?’ There was something in Quinn’s voice that allowed him to ask the question, or maybe just his own family dynamics prompted the query.
‘They do. We’re good friends. I came home whenever I could.’
‘Is your family in London?’
‘My boy’s in culinary school in Paris, my daughter’s a teacher in Brighton and my wife’s down the hall, sir. She does your household books.’
‘Ah – forgive me for not knowing that. Max takes care of the hiring.’
‘Not a problem. You could be the devil himself for the salaries you pay. There, that’s the last of it.’ The brawny chef delicately arranged the cakes on the tray with his beefy fingers. ‘Tell Miss Hart, the truffle filling is fine, she might want to discard the cake. It’s a bit chewy now.’
‘But it won’t make her sick?’
‘No, I froze the leftover cakes for the staff. And you can eat cake straight from the freezer, but I zapped them for a few seconds. You don’t have to tell her.’
‘I’m good at omission,’ Dominic said with a small smile.
‘Most men are.’
‘Survival.’
‘You nailed it, sir. Would you like help upstairs?’
‘No.’ Dominic picked up the tray. ‘And thank you for your understanding. I expect this won’t be the last time I’m down here in the middle of the night.’
‘Anytime, sir. And all our best to Miss Hart.’
A short time later, Dominic watched Kate eat, politely refused the leftovers, took pleasure in seeing her devour every last morsel – including the cake – and turned back from setting the tray on the dresser to find her sleeping again.
Christ, had she developed narcolepsy? That might be something to ask the doctor.
*
Sunday, they slept late, read the papers in bed, ate breakfast in bed, then lunch. Kate napped in the afternoon, Dominic powered up his laptop. And as the weekend came to a close, they lay watching a movie on TV – where else – in bed.
CHAPTER 10
‘Really, Dominic, someone should warn you about being constantly tired when you’re pregnant,’ Kate mumbled as he shook her awake on Monday morning. ‘Jeez, you’re dressed!’ Dominic was sitting on the side of the bed in full CEO kit. ‘What time is it?’
‘It’s late, baby,’ he said. ‘I figured with your shower last night I could let you sleep in. But we have to get moving.’ Sweeping the covers aside, he stood, leaned down, consciously averted his gaze or his clothes would be back off, lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. Seating her on the marble vanity, he put some toothpaste on a toothbrush, kept his eyes on her face, handed the toothbrush to her with a glass of water, and said, ‘Brush. Quinn has already packed your breakfast. You can eat in the car. I’ll wait for you in the dressing room.’
A short time later, he heard the toilet flush, the tap run, then silence. For too long.
He was on his way back to the bathroom when Kate walked out into the bedroom, a stunning image of soft, pink curves and ripe tits that had Dominic quickly weighing his options.
‘I think I dozed off,’ Kate murmured, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy two-year-old.
Having reined in his libido and curbed his I can do anything ego by sheer, bloody-minded will, Dominic smiled faintly. ‘CX Capital might not get their money’s worth today.’
‘Or for the foreseeable future if I can’t shake myself out of this perpetual drowsiness.’
‘Is that my cue to repeat my classic line about working for me? Anytime, baby. Just say the word.’ He opened the door to the dressing room wider.
‘Jeez, if you don’t wear me down, Mother Nature will,’ Kate said, moving past him into the dressing room. ‘I should ask Amanda if she spent the entire nine months sleeping or thinking about sleeping.’
‘We’ll ask the doctor this afternoon. I’ll pick you up at three. Don’t sit down,’ he quickly said, ‘We have to get you dressed and into the car.’
If any of Dominic’s acquaintances had been asked whether they could picture him as person assistant to a woman, they would have stared at the questioner in disbelief. Dominic didn’t go out of his way for women. He never had.
Until Kate.
But she had no way of knowing that Dominic’s thoughtfulness was unique to her, so she accepted his attentions as normal. And with her energy levels close to zero, thank God, he didn’t mind doing almost everything.
Including feeding her a bacon sandwich in the car so her fingers wouldn’t be all greasy when she got to work. ‘How the hell can you eat bacon in the morning,’ he murmured, as she savoured the sandwich, ‘and not have that make you sick?’
‘Dunno,’ she said, swallowing the last bite. ‘Comfort food? Compulsive behaviour? Some Neanderthal genetic trigger? Maybe—’
‘I’m sorry I asked,’ he said, grinning. ‘Here, baby, have some chocolate milk to wash it down.’ He held out a small thermos.
‘I’ll make this up to you someday,’ she promised, smiling at him as she handed back the flask. ‘I’ll take care of you.’
‘You already are, Katherine. You make each day worth living. So let me do this. It gives me pleasure.’
‘OK then,’ she said, grinning. ‘I guess I’ll let you.’
He laughed, pleased that she made him laugh when he hadn’t had much to smile about in the past. ‘Maybe someone so wiseass needs a spanking,’ he murmured, a husky note in his voice.
She looked at him lounging against the black leather seat, impeccably dressed in an ecru-coloured suit for the spring weather, his hair slicked back, his teasing smile for her alone. ‘And maybe I know
someone who could do that,’ she whispered back.
‘Jesus Christ, baby.’ He blew out a breath, dragged in another, glanced at his watch. ‘Seriously, you have to quit your job,’ he said on a suffocated breath. ‘I need you available for me all the time. Oh, shit.’
The car pulled up to the curb in front of CX Capital.
‘You’re not the only needy one,’ she breathed, her gaze riveted on the explosive rise of his erection, her body instantly responding.
‘Jake will help you out.’ His nostrils flared, his voice was suddenly taut as a bowstring. ‘I’m not touching you with this goddamn raging hard-on. And I mean it, Katherine,’ he said, curtly, his mouth grim. ‘You have to quit this bullshit job.’
‘Because you say so?’ Her voice took on a sudden edge.
‘Pretty much,’ he said through his teeth, then looked up as the car door opened. ‘Thanks, Jake. Give Katherine a hand, will you?’
She moved past him as he swung his legs aside.
‘Three p.m.,’ he said
‘Fuck you.’
‘We’ll do that after the appointment,’ he said, crisply.
As she stalked away, he shoved the Prada lunch cooler at Jake. ‘Catch up to her. If I try she’ll toss this.’
Once in her office, for thirty minutes of pure rage, Kate stared unseeing at her monitor screen while any number of sharp, pithy responses to Dominic’s demand she quit work raced through her mind. Something more creative than fuck you. Like a barbed reminder to him that she was an independent woman with a mind of her own. Or perhaps she would ask him who he thought he was telling her what to do, expressed entirely in dog whistle decibels. Or the real one about her not wanting to be another possession of a man who already had a surfeit of them. While the one about him being a controlling dick always reemerged spotlighted centre stage.
She thought about going back to her apartment. About walking out and never looking back like they do in the movies or in nineteenth-century novels where the women always get screwed in the end.
Just as the image of all those self-sacrificing fictional women who came to a bad end had Kate reconsidering leaving and never looking back, a gangly young man with floppy hair walked into her office struggling under the weight of a large crystal vase filled with beautiful, white, blowsy David Austin roses.
