by Paige North
Our standoff simmers as we stare at each other. Neither of us is budging, and my heart starts to crack. But I meant what I said and said what I meant.
“That,” I finally utter as I take hold of my suitcase handle again, “is my ultimatum, Connor. Take it or leave it.”
I’ve never sounded so firm. My resolve stuns even me. But isn’t that why I contacted Highest Bidder, to discover my limits and push them?
Connor’s voice lowers to a gutted whisper. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You have no idea, and I—”
“What? Afraid I’ll make you look bad?”
His arms loosen for a moment, and his gaze changes. I know I’ve hit close to a truth. “It’s not like that.”
I add quietly, “Because I really am a dirty little secret?”
“No.”
He toughens up again, and I start to press the elevator button.
“Stop,” he says.
When I look back at him, he’s seething.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Just get back in here.”
He lowers his arms from his chest as I gauge him. It’s almost as if he can’t say no to me, as if being unable to deny me is yet another new experience for him…
Don’t I wish, but I’m too shocked by this seeming victory to overthink it.
“If I go back inside,” I say, “you’ll agree to take me out in public and not keep me tucked away. Deal?”
“Agreed.”
As hope leaps in me again, I decide to plunge right back in to this adventure I arranged, mostly because I can’t stand the thought of leaving. I feel as if I’ve already suffered a little from Connor withdrawal, and I pull my suitcase back to the door. I can’t stop the smile that threatens to break over my mouth, and as I pass him, I catch a whiff of that clean, manly scent that’s become such an addiction for me.
I hear the door shut behind me. Then I hear something else: a low growl that Connor makes whenever I’ve tested him.
Whenever he wants me.
Before I can turn around, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me back against his chest. He grips my chin and turns my face to him then crushes his mouth to mine with a fierce kiss that leaves me boneless, melting.
And completely his.
Chapter 10
I drop my suitcase handle as his mouth ravishes mine. He slides a hand down my stomach to my belly, and shivers awaken there, tiny trembles that travel up and through my entire body. A tiny mewl vibrates in my throat and chest, coming out as a feverish moan as he suspends our kiss, his mouth opening over mine.
As my world rocks, he rubs his palm over my lower belly and then slides down. A gush of cream wets my pussy, my clit throbbing. After what seems like an eternity, he arrogantly strokes his tongue into my mouth. Another soft cry escapes me as I desperately meet his tongue with mine, and we tangle together, slowly at first, then with increasing passion.
I did this to him, I think. I made him want me so savagely by almost leaving today. But he did this to me, too—made me a little monster who’s dying to be fucked by him again. The ache from last night, from having him inside me for the first time, has been washed away by how wet he makes me just with a kiss.
He sucks off of my tongue then stares down at me, his fingers gripping my hair while I grasp his wrist right back. His eyes are intense, but there’s frustration there, too. We’re still fighting it out, and the thought makes me weak with growing excitement.
“You have a lot of demands,” he says tightly. “What else are you going to want from me, Allyson?”
Your heart, I think, but I chase it away. Hearts have no place here, even though mine is pounding so hard that I fear it’ll explode.
“I want what you’re doing to me right now,” I whisper.
“Be more specific. What am I doing to you?”
“Seducing me.” Fighting me.
He laughs cruelly. “Be even more specific.”
My god, he’s adamant that I demand more from him. “I’m not experienced enough to make demands.”
“You were doing pretty fucking well earlier.”
He’s still rubbing my belly, and with the added thrill of our war of words, I keep creaming for him. I wiggle my hips backward, feeling his cock against the small of my back. He groans.
“I want what you’re dying to give me,” I say, being just as mean as he can be.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get it.”
Before I can parry back, he sweeps his tongue into my mouth, and I take him in. Our kiss gets more heated by the second, his fingers inching up the hem of my dress, and I shift in agitation, breaking away from his mouth and sucking air between my teeth because I know what I’m about to get.
Then he changes the pace, yanking my dress over my head with expert assurance then getting rid of it. He aggressively latches his mouth to my neck, biting me enough to send a spike of lust to my clit.
“Oh.” I pitch forward, but he holds me against him. I can feel him getting harder, bigger, and frightened excitement arouses me.
So big, I think, and I want his hard cock inside me now.
I grope in back of me for him, but he catches my wrist. His mouth gets busier at my neck, gnawing at me, making me pant as he pushes us forward until my hands hit the wall. I brace myself as he strips off my bra, panties, then my sandals, leaving me bare and trembling.
With my back to him, I don’t know what he’ll do next, and my shaky breathing cuts through the suddenly steamy air as I wait. My wild heartbeat seems to speed up time, blocking out every other sound as I keep waiting…waiting.
I can’t do it anymore.
I start to look over my shoulder, but Connor whips me around to face him. My hands are still raised, and I pin them back to the wall as I realize he’s done away with his sweatpants. I take in the breath-stealing sight of him naked, looming over me with a burning gaze. He’s so smooth all over, tanned skin over bulging muscles, his cock erect as he looks me over like he wants to devour me.
As his gaze skims over my cream-bathed thighs, he smiles ruthlessly. He knows I’d give myself over to him in a hot second. He wins…for now.
“Do you know what I want?” he asks, his voice a fierce rumble. But he doesn’t wait for an answer as he gets to his knees and urges my legs apart. He looks up at me with that feral gaze before he eases his fingertips over the tops of my thighs, skimming my tender skin.
His light caresses stimulate my clit even more. So does the moist feel of Connor’s breath as he leans toward my pussy, nuzzling it. I moan, and he slowly licks my slit. I stand on my tiptoes with the pressure inside me and hold back another agitated sound.
He moves his fingers to the outside of my thighs, tracing me as he runs his tongue over the inside of one leg, lapping up my juices. He makes a low, turned-on sound as if I’m the only woman who can ever quench this lewd thirst. When he’s done with that thigh, he laves my other one, and I fold my arms on top of my head, restless.
“I want you to kiss me,” I whisper.
He nips my inner thigh, and I jerk my hips in response.
“That was almost a demand,” he murmurs.
I say it louder. “Kiss me.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
“Demand it, Allyson, just like you demanded all that shit by the elevator.”
The frustration I saw in him before is coming through in his rough voice. It’s as if he resents giving me what I wanted, hates wanting me this badly, and something cruel in me wants him to admit it.
“I want you to kiss my…” Even after everything, I still can’t say pussy out loud.
“Let me save you the embarrassment. You want me to go down on you, just like I did in my office.”
“Yes.” It’s only a thread of a whisper because I want this so ferociously.
The anticipation needles me all over, and I nearly cry out from my own frustration as he uses his fingers to separate my folds. But he doesn’t kiss me there yet. No, what he does drives m
e even crazier.
He takes one of my lips between two fingers, rubbing me, taking his sweet time, knowing he’s killing me with aching need. Then he massages my other lip as I slowly slide down the wall like a smear of butter. Just as I’m about to collapse, he hooks one of my legs over his shoulder and opens me again with his fingers, then licks my clit.
And it just gets better.
He kisses me there again, and his tongue is magic, drawing what feels like a figure eight. Smooth, stiff, teasing…he circles me into what seems like a growing oblivion as I close my eyes and lose myself in humid darkness. I’m a mass of shooting stars that leaves blazing white trails over a black sky, a battlefield where something is about to burst open and destroy me.
I moan, I groan as he works me hard and long. Then he stops, and I wince for more as I balance on the edge of exploding.
“Now it’s time for me to demand.” He stands with me and turns me toward the wall. “Try not to lose your mind as I fuck you senseless, Allyson.”
I press one cheek against the wall, quivering because I can’t control myself. So close to coming, so—
All my senses scream as he thrusts his cock into me, and I stand on my tiptoes to take him in, biting my lip hard. And when he slips out and comes into me again, I cry out, even though I don’t want to. I don’t want him to hear me losing it, and as he fucks me again, then again, my eyes roll back in my head.
The tip of his cock hits something inside me, the same pleasure button he kept pushing with his finger as he went down on me in his office. A shower of stars rain down on me, sharp and pulsing. Every time he hits that spot with increasingly passionate thrusts, the stars get bigger. They consume me, their sharp points digging into me from the inside out…
I haul in a big, ragged breath as I explode for him, scratching my nails at the wall until, oh god, until there’s another blast of heat inside me, scrambling my vision and everything inside me.
Instead of freefalling, my desire for him charges up, and I reach up and behind me, latching onto his hair and pulling. He’s still hard inside of me, and I shift my hips as I turn around, making him slide out.
We’re a mess of sweat and cream as I look down at his hard, huge cock. My juices are all over it, and the sight gets me hotter.
As I drop to my knees, I drag my nails down his rock-solid chest, his belly, his thighs. An animal growl escapes from him as I look up, finding his gaze consumed by blue fire.
“You want a demand?” I say jaggedly. “Here it is. I want to see how long you can keep yourself from coming.”
I don’t know where I got that, but it sounds so right. I want him to suffer like I just did.
He grits his jaw. “Be careful what you ask for. Now stroke me, Allyson. ”
I take his cock in my palm, stroking up and down his shaft. His veins seem to pulse, fascinating me, and I give in to the urge to lick his head.
“Shit,” he says, as if gut punched.
I look up at him again to find that he’s tense, obviously fighting off an orgasm.
“I’m doing it right?” I ask, and I mean it.
“Fuck yes, you’re doing it right.” Now he’s bracing his hands on the wall over me, baring his teeth. I return my attention to his throbbing dick.
I don’t even stop to wonder if I’m doing this part right as I take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue under him, then over as I suck back, forth.
“Yeah,” I hear him say. “Keep going…fuck…”
I get into a rhythm, enthusiastically sucking him in harder and longer. I do it until his head hits the back of my throat. I remember what I read once about opening up during a blow job, so I do. As I work him, I taste myself on him, along with a salty hint of what must be pre-cum.
I hear that growl growing in him again, and when I stop working him to pause and take a heavy breath, I look up to see that he’s even tenser, still fighting not to explode.
Something sinks inside me. What I really want is to make him happy. I don’t care about this battle between us. I only want him satiated and pleased.
As he opens his eyes and looks down at me, I see the wildness in his gaze, but there’s a change in him, something that opens up for me, too.
My heart gives a fierce jerk as if it’s fighting to stay whole.
As much as I want him to enjoy, I want to enjoy, too, so I ease his cock into my mouth again, hearing him moan. His thrusts start to get faster, more intense, and I keep up with him, making those small, ecstatic mewls because I never knew being with a man could be this way—thrilling, new, exciting.
When he comes, it’s with a rough, stifled sound. He tenses, spilling into my mouth, and I drink him in—hot, wet, wonderful. After he’s done, I wipe his cum from my mouth and rock back on my heels to see what’s in Connor’s eyes now.
A flash of...something that’s almost tender. A world of mystery as he reaches down to stroke my damp hair from my face.
“Ally,” he murmurs as if I’ve exposed him in some inexplicable way.
Warmth floods me as I turn to kiss his fingers, knowing that something between us has changed, sweeping both of us along with it.
Chapter 11
I take my second shower of the day, washing his cum off my body, standing under the hot water and luxuriating in the teasing pressure from the multiple heads. Steam rises around me, and I can still taste the slight saltiness of him in my mouth.
Eager to get back to him, I rinse the jasmine bath gel from my skin then turn off the water. I rub one of the thick, soft towels from the rack over my skin to dry off. In the end, I ease in to a designer shift dress that’s silky and the color of sunshine. It tumbles down to my ankles, and I don’t wear anything underneath, which makes me feel sexy and free.
After applying a little pink lipstick and mascara, then brushing out my hair, I go to the kitchen, following the delicious aromas. I find Connor among the high-tech appliances. He’s cooking what looks to be French toast at the stove.
I take a moment to bask in the afterglow that’s still flitting over my skin. He’s got on a white button down that does nothing to hide the muscles in his back that flex every time he moves. His charcoal pants are obviously part of a suit, and it’s a shame that his jacket will soon cover up that gorgeous ass. God, as I remember everything I saw and everything we did it’s as if a shimmer of memory is balling into something hot and beautiful in the very center of me.
But even if we had some kind of breakthrough, that’s as far as my feelings for him can go. I’ll need to keep reminding myself that we’ll have just one amazing week together. I won’t get attached.
It’s as if he feels me behind him, and he looks over his shoulder. His smile is genuine, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen, and my heart kicks.
He intensely surveys me from head to toe, making that ball inside of me pulse with heat.
“You like this dress on me?” In the mood to flirt, I model the shift for him.
“I like it on you, but I’ve got no doubt I’d like it off even more.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You’re greedy, Allyson.”
Okay, so we’re back to calling me by my full name. No big deal.
He turns around to flip the French toast in its pan. I see a French coffee press on the counter as well as different fruits on a cutting board—bananas, honeydew melon, raspberries. Two glasses of orange juice also wait to be brought to the table. My phone is nearby, and he sees that I’ve noticed, because I didn’t leave it there.
He takes it in hand as the food sizzles. “What’s your password? You’ll need my number in your contacts.”
All right, so he wants to enter it himself. I indulge him, figuring that he’s indulged me enough so I should return the favor. I give my password to him, and after he finishes entering it, he hands the phone back to me.
Without being asked, I take the juice to the table and sit. Connor’s already brought out a bottle of fancy salt caramel syrup, plus butter and crystal cups fu
ll of yogurt.
“Don’t you have a personal chef?” I ask.
“He’s on call.” He turns off the stove and deftly moves the toast to the waiting plates that he’s already arranged fruit on. “Otherwise I do what I can around here as far as cooking goes.”
“You seem to know your way around a kitchen.”
“I’ve made more than a few breakfasts.”
As he opens a jar of Nutella then spreads the treat over the French toast, I try not to shrink back from the question I want to ask. Does he cook for his other women? This temporary girlfriend would like to know.
I frown. Am I actually a girlfriend for the remainder of the week while Connor takes me out in public? Huh.
I take a sip of juice then say, “From the cut of your clothing, I’m going to guess that you’re going into work. Better late than never, huh?”
“I’m usually in the office when the sun rises, but I had other business to attend to this morning.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
He sprinkles powdered sugar on the French toast, and I nearly slide down my chair to the floor in a puddle of sighs. This is going to be such a great week.
He brings over the plates of toast and fruit and sets them down on the marble table.
I drink some more juice then say, “I’m sure no one questions the boss at Kenyon Motors, even if he comes in a little late some mornings. How often do you—?”
“Stay home in the morning longer than I should with a Highest Bidder woman? Do you really want to know that?”
“Why not?” It’s not like I’ll get jealous or anything. I’ll make sure of it.
“As I said, you’re greedy, and not just for sex. For information.”
“As if you didn’t know that already.”
He goes back to the counter and pours the coffee from the French press in mugs before delivering those, too. He takes a seat opposite me, his gaze lingering on me a moment more than I expect it to, as if he’s trying to see into me to measure how many questions I’ve got in my mental queue.
