by Jasmine Hill
“No. She’s different. I don’t want to tarnish her purity with that lifestyle. She’s not aware of that aspect of my life and I want it to stay that way, so please don’t mention anything.”
“Of course. You can rely on my discretion.” He tilted his head. “This is very unlike you, Donovan.”
Donovan shrugged. “What can I say? She’s special and I’ll do anything to protect my relationship with her. I’m also worried about her getting around the city unaccompanied. Can you recommend a good GPS application that we can download to our phones? I’d like to be able to assist her if she were to become lost.”
“I know of a decent one. I’ll text you the information.”
Donovan stood and nodded his thanks. “I’ll see you later.”
* * * *
Makayla had slathered herself in sunscreen and wore a large floppy hat. She sat on the steps of the pool, waist deep in the water. The rooftop was busy, the hot weather keeping many by the pool instead of exploring the city. She stood then sauntered over to her sun lounger, suddenly feeling sleepy, no doubt from a little jet lag.
She settled herself on the lounger and took a sip of the juice she’d ordered from the bar. Before he’d left that morning, Donovan had told her to put anything she purchased on the room tab. She felt a little guilty, but she wasn’t splurging, even though she sensed that that’s exactly what Donovan wanted her to do. She’d ordered a sandwich and a tropical juice for lunch. She hoped that they could go to the piano bar in the lobby that evening. She wanted to try cava, Spain’s version of champagne, and some of the traditional tapas.
She looked up to see an attractive Spanish man leaning over her. She assumed he was Spanish due to his Mediterranean coloring. His sun-burnished, olive skin and thick head of black hair singled him out as such.
“Miss Carrington?”
“Yes,” she responded.
He held his hand out to her. “I’m Gabriel Sosa. I’m the Quality Assurance Director for Totally Five Star Hotels.”
She shook his hand warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Encantado.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“I noticed that Mr. King was staying with us again and I wanted to introduce myself to his lovely lady friend.” He motioned to her sun lounger. “May I sit?”
“Of course.” She smiled.
He settled himself on her long, wide sunbed.
His white polo shirt emphasized his golden tan and his shorts covered firm, muscular thighs. He was an attractive man.
“Do you live here?” she asked him.
“No, I live in London, but I’m from Madrid. I travel a lot for work and try to get here as much as possible.” He smiled. “Particularly in the summers.”
* * * *
Donovan had checked their suite—no Makayla. She must still be at the pool. He tugged off his tie then went in search of her. She’d mentioned the rooftop pool, so he’d start there. He stepped off the elevator and scanned the pool area. He saw her immediately, dressed in that minuscule excuse for a bikini, her breasts barely contained. A floppy hat adorned her head and large, round sunglasses hid her eyes. She was a vision, gorgeous and sexy, and being slobbered over by Gabriel Sosa. What the fuck? He couldn’t believe that the man had planted himself on her lounger, as if he belonged there. Donovan strode angrily toward the pair. Sosa’s eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses but Donovan knew his gaze would be riveted on Makayla’s breasts. He drew level with them and glared down.
“Ah, Mr. King,” Sosa greeted. “I was just introducing myself to your lovely lady friend.”
“Obviously,” Donovan drawled sarcastically.
“Gabriel was just telling me what to visit while I’m here,” Makayla said, seemingly unaware of Donovan’s irritation.
“Thank you, Sosa,” he said, his tone icy.
Sosa obviously got the message. Quickly, he rose to his feet. “It was a pleasure, Makayla. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything.” He nodded to Donovan. “Mr. King.”
Donovan watched him saunter away, stopping now and again to greet guests.
He looked down at Makayla. She was spreading sunscreen on her arms and looking for all the world like she hadn’t noticed his jealousy.
“Let me help,” he said shortly.
He scooped her up, depositing her farther down the sunbed, and sat behind her. He squeezed some cream onto his hands and started massaging her shoulders, then he ran his hands down over her cleavage, slipping his fingers under her bikini top and just missing her nipples.
She shuddered beneath him and he felt himself grow solid. He leaned down to speak into her ear. “You look so hot. You know that man, Gabriel Sosa, was hitting on you, right?”
She gave him an exasperated look over her shoulder. “He was just being friendly, Donovan.”
“If he hadn’t hit on you yet, he would have eventually,” he said. “I know what he’s like. He can never pass up a beautiful woman.”
“Well, I definitely wouldn’t have taken him up on his offer,” she said.
“You’re right. You would definitely not have taken him up on it,” he agreed with feeling.
She sighed. “Why don’t you change into your board shorts and join me? I’m going for a swim.” She stood and took her sunglasses and hat off then strode over to the pool.
Fuck, those bikini bottoms barely covered her pert little ass. Her backside swayed enticingly as she walked. He noticed the men nearby all stopped what they were doing to stare at her, and she was oblivious to the attention she was receiving. He gazed around the pool and thought that there seemed to be a lot of men around.
She reached the steps and delicately walked into the water. He should go back to the suite and change into his board shorts, but he wanted to watch Makayla a bit longer. She swam some laps then climbed gracefully out of the pool.
Donovan was staring at her and not believing his eyes. Her white bikini had basically turned transparent—fuck! He shot to his feet and grabbed her towel. One prick of a guy was actually drooling, his mouth open as he blatantly eye-fucked her.
He stormed toward her and threw the towel around her body. He shot a threatening glare at the slobbering guy. “Keep your eyes to yourself, asshole!”
“Donovan, what are you doing?” Makayla asked in dismay.
“Your bikini is see-through when it’s wet,” he grated between clenched teeth. He had to settle down. It wasn’t her fault. But he’d certainly fire the idiot personal shopper.
“What?” she gasped in horror. “I didn’t know.”
“Did you not notice that the ratio of men to women suddenly grew? They’re all here to stare at you.”
He started packing up her things and shoving them into her beach bag. “We’re going. I think you’ve provided these assholes with enough of a show.”
He glanced at her and noticed too late the trembling of her mouth. Shit, he was acting like an ass. “Come here,” he said gruffly, grabbing her hand then pulling her toward him. “I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’m being a bastard. I know it’s not your fault. I’m just furious knowing all these pricks are ogling you and seeing a lot more than they should.”
She sniffled against his chest. He’d upset her and he felt like a real shit. She’d feel mortified and embarrassed enough without him adding to her self-consciousness. “Let’s go up to the room. We’ll have a rest before we head out,” he said quietly.
Chapter Sixteen
The next few days flew by for Makayla. They explored Madrid between Donovan’s meetings. They strolled through the Prado, took a tour of the Palacio Real de Madrid and watched the Changing of the Guard. The guide at the palace explained that the royal family no longer lived there, only using it for state ceremonies. They took morning walks through the park and shopped along the Gran Vía and Calle Serrano. She was eating more than usual as she found that all the activity gave her an appetite, although she hadn’t
gotten used to the Spanish mealtimes—they ate breakfast up until one p.m., lunch between two thirty and three thirty, and dinner wasn’t served until around nine p.m. One particular night, Donovan had left her for the evening, explaining that he was meeting a business associate. He hadn’t returned to their suite until three in the morning but she had assumed it was the late hours that the Spanish kept.
She’d called her mother a couple of times and had been relieved to find that she was doing very well and even enjoying her stay at the treatment facility. Knowing that her mother was getting the care and therapy that she so desperately needed was a load off Makayla’s mind. It meant that Makayla could relax and enjoy her time away.
She was checking her email when Donovan strolled into the sitting room from the balcony where he’d been taking a phone call. He looked so handsome and tanned from their time in the sun. He’d rolled his white shirt up to the elbows, looking laid-back and casual in his dark tan chinos and dress shoes. His hair curled at his collar, an unruly wave flopping on his forehead with the five o’clock shadow on his jaw giving him a hard, masculine edge. His collar was open, revealing a triangle of firm, tanned flesh, lightly sprinkled with hair. He really was edible and, at times like this, she found it hard to believe that he was with her. She stared at Donovan, drinking him in.
He smirked at her. “Enjoying the view?”
She giggled and blushed at being caught ogling him so blatantly.
“Come here,” he ordered, his voice thick.
Butterflies started in her stomach as she stood and walked slowly toward him.
“On your knees.”
She licked her lips, knelt and stared up at him, waiting for his next command.
He undid his zipper and pulled out his erect, thick cock, the bulbous crown beading with moisture.
“Have you ever given head, angel?”
“No,” she whispered. She was anxious to taste him, to lick the pre-cum from his tip.
“Good. Let’s have a lesson.” His voice was like gravel. “Take me in your mouth, baby.”
She leaned forward and grasped the base of him then closed her lips around the head.
He groaned and jutted forward a little with his hips. “That’s it, take me deeper.”
She licked the tip, and he shuddered. Taking him farther into her mouth then sucking hard, she swirled her tongue along his length.
He growled a curse and pushed forward, grasping a handful of her hair in his fist and using it to manipulate her head.
She sank lower on him, sucking and licking, relishing the musky taste of him. He pushed her head down and thrust in and out of her mouth until she felt his tip hit the back of her throat.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “Relax your jaw.”
She fought back a choke and did what he asked. He swelled in her mouth and his rigid length bumped against the back of her throat as he propelled himself in and out.
He slid between her lips and she pumped the base of his cock. She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes at his jaw, tight with the effort of maintaining his control. He stared down at her with such intensity, she felt like he could look into her soul.
She pumped and sucked harder, her lips wide at the thick root of him. Her saliva made his glide between her lips smooth and slick.
“I’m going to come,” he grated between clenched teeth. “I want you to swallow, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” He gasped the last, his control obviously about to snap. She hastened her movements and pumped her fist at the base of his cock, telling him with her actions that she wanted to taste him.
He thrust forward, tightening his fist in her hair, then with a roar, he came hard, lodging his cock in the back of her throat and spilling into her.
He stood for a moment, immobile, his shaft still in her mouth and his fist entwined in her hair. Then he let go of her and removed himself from her mouth before helping her to her feet and kissing her passionately. “Are you okay?” he asked against her lips.
“I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “I enjoyed that”
She felt his mouth curl into a smile “That was perfect, baby. You give good head.”
Makayla pulled back and grinned happily, feeling warm and slightly giddy at his praise.
Donovan looked at his watch. “We’re going to be late. I’ll go up to the restaurant. You finish getting ready and meet me there.”
* * * *
Donovan finished texting one of his club managers back in Australia. It was difficult with the time difference to keep updated, so they tended to email and text rather than speak on the phone.
He knew the moment Makayla walked into the restaurant. The air seemed to shift and he physically felt her presence. The table he’d asked for was at the opposite end of the room. He looked up and watched her start in his direction. He froze. Her low-cut jersey dress had a neckline so severe that it nearly reached her navel. Obviously, she was unable to wear a bra, and her nipples poked against the soft fabric. She’d filled out a little since she’d been away with him. Her hips were rounded nicely and her breasts were fuller—she was a walking wet dream. As he watched her progress, he noticed something else—people had actually stopped eating and talking and were staring at her. He realized with a jolt that he’d advertised to the entire fucking restaurant that she’d just given him head. Her lips were puffy and swollen from where he’d fucked her mouth, and the back of her hair, obviously unnoticed by her, was mussed from where he’d gripped it in his fist. He glanced around at the other diners and saw the men undressing her with their eyes as her delectable hips and plump, lush breasts swayed provocatively.
He shot up from his chair, the legs scraping backward loudly, and tore over to her. She smiled then frowned when she saw his face. He grasped her arm and tugged her with him in the opposite direction.
“Donovan, what are you doing?” she asked in alarm.
He’d caught sight of the back of the dress when she’d turned. The dress ended so low on her back that he could just make out the top of her ass crease. Fuck me, that personal shopper has a lot to answer for.
“Is everything all right, sir?” the maître d’ asked with a frown.
“Fine,” he said over his shoulder. “We’ve decided to eat in our suite.”
He called for the elevator, tugged Makayla in behind him, then pushed her against the wall.
He was turned on and furious at the same time. He hated men looking at her as if they wanted to fuck her, but knowing that they coveted what was his was hot. Seeing her stop a restaurant dead in its tracks excited him, but knowing that every man in there would recognize that she’d just sucked him off had him feeling positively murderous.
He had to have her immediately, had to mark her, claim her as his. He dragged her dress up. Fuck, she wasn’t wearing underwear. “No panties,” he groaned against her ear.
“I couldn’t with this dress,” she panted. “The back’s too low.”
He growled in her ear and slipped a finger inside her tight, slick channel. She was always so ready for him—it drove him wild. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”
He cupped her ass and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered, his voice thick with desperation.
She complied quickly and he pushed her back against the wall then fumbled with his chinos to release his aching cock. “You have to tell me if you’re too sore.”
She shook her head and clenched her legs around him tighter.
He drew back, lined himself up with her sex, and thrust deeply. They groaned in unison, her tight cunt gripping his cock like a fist. He pulled back and pumped in again, pushing her back up the side of the elevator with his powerful drives. He grunted like an animal each time he plunged into her. She threw her head back and held onto his shoulders. He rutted frantically, fucking her like a wild beast. He couldn’t help himself. He was crazed with desire and the need to possess her.
He felt the lift glide to a halt and he slammed his fist on
the stop button.
She gasped and moaned, rolling her head from side to side.
His cock swelled bigger still, his balls tightening with lust.
“Why no bra, Makayla?” he asked in her ear on a powerful thrust. “You know every fucker in that restaurant was staring at your tight little nipples.” He released a hand from her backside and massaged a breast roughly, pinching the nipple hard.
She moaned and he dipped his mouth to hers to swallow the sound, shoving his tongue between her lips forcefully.
She broke away from their kiss. “I couldn’t with this dress.”
“That. Fucking. Dress. Should. Be. Illegal.” He punctuated each word with a fierce drive of his hips.
Her insides started to quiver and pulse. She was close. He dropped his hand between them to find her clit, pressing the little bundle of nerves then biting the tendon that connected her throat and shoulder.
She cried out and shuddered in his arms, her slick little channel throbbing around his stiff cock, milking his release from him. He pumped twice more then came hard, groaning low in his throat as he spilled his seed into her.
Chapter Seventeen
Donovan left her alone again, like the previous two nights—he’d been leaving their hotel for a couple of hours. When he returned, he was exhausted and fell into bed with barely a grunt of acknowledgment for her.
He’d just left, telling her once more that he’d be gone for two hours, running errands—she didn’t believe him.
She stared at his laptop, which he’d left open and logged in. She bit her lip, debating with herself. Finally, she threw caution aside and approached the computer. She opened his email and scrolled through, noting a lot of business correspondence, a couple of emails from his father and a few from people she assumed were friends.
Next, she checked the history, something catching her immediate attention—a website dedicated to BDSM. She clicked on it, unsure what to expect, but what popped up on the screen sent her pulse into overdrive.
