by Cathryn Fox
He widens my thighs even more, and his fingers climb higher. I turn my head away, hot, tight need spearing through me. Good God, what if someone is peering into our dark corner and watching us? My pulse thuds, and I can’t tell for certain whether that’s from excitement or fear.
“Look at me, Kitten.”
I turn back to him, and his eyes are piercing, holding me captive as they lock on mine. I want to whimper, squirm, beg him to touch me already, but the sound will draw attention, I’m sure. One look at the two of us and it’d be easy to tell what Sean is doing beneath the table.
A moan I have no control over crawls out of my throat.
Oh God, in only a few short hours I’ve turned from a straight-laced museum curator to a kinky dancer with fetishes. Did the bartender put something in my drink?
“Mmm,” he says, his thumb brushing my sex, his breath scorching my face. “Very hot.” He puts his mouth next to my ear, the heat of his breath caressing the shell. “I bet you’re wet, too.”
I gulp, wanting nothing more than for him to slide a hand into my panties and find out. Before I can respond, he stands and holds his hand out to me. “How about a dance?”
His hand swallows mine whole as I reach for him, and he lifts me from my chair. My body collides with his, and his cock presses into my stomach. My eyes widen, and he just gives me an unapologetic grin in response, no modesty or constraint—bold as hell.
A shiver races through me.
His scent curls around me as he guides me to the small dance floor and pulls me into his arms. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck to see him, and when our gazes lock, I feel like he has me under some sort of spell.
A warm arm slides around my back and he pulls me close. “So what about you?” he asks. “What brings you to London?”
I grew up in New York. My accent has given me away. “Business,” I say, a partial truth. I’m in the business of seeking out legendary sex, but he doesn’t have to know that. Let him think I’m here in London to dance at his club.
“You’re staying at this hotel?”
“Yes. It’s close to work. But I’m looking for another place to lay my head.” Again, not a lie. I am looking for another place to sleep—Sean’s bed.
“Hmm.”
“What.”
“Will you be here tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” I answer. What is he up to? What is he getting at?
“I have a proposition for you.”
At the word proposition, hot lust floods me. I want whatever he has in mind, whatever he’s offering, but try to play it cool by asking, “What might that be?”
“I’m here on business, and I need a girl.”
I need a girl.
With my breath far choppier than I would have liked, I ask, “What do you need a girl for?”
“To pretend to be my fiancée.”
My head comes back. A fake fiancée? What the hell? That’s the last thing I expected him to say.
“You see, I have to attend a cocktail party tomorrow night. It’s important the client thinks I’m settled. The best way for me to convince him I’m no longer a guy who fucks random women is to have a fiancée on my arm.”
Holy God, his dirty mouth is doing the most ridiculous things to me.
“What do you say?” He runs his fingers along my nape, and I visibly quiver.
“So this deal,” I begin, a measure of disappointment sitting in my gut. “It’s just about me pretending to be your fiancée tomorrow night, nothing more.”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
“Oh? Then, what exactly would you say?”
“I’d say it’s about fucking, too, Kitten.”
Holy cripes, Sean’s dad might be a minister, but honest to God, this man is a dirty-talking bad boy, a sinner all the way. I think I’m in love.
I try to present boredom. “What’s in it for me?” I ask, like the sex he’s offering doesn’t quite cut it. Oh, but it does. It does so much my insides are in chaos and my entire body is ready to go up in a burst of flames.
A devilish glint dances in his eyes, and my pulse pounds in my throat. “We can negotiate it.”
“I’m a pretty good negotiator,” I say. I’m not.
“Yeah, me too. I’m an investment banker. I negotiate. It’s what I do. And I’m damn good at it.”
“Sounds like a guy who always gets his way.”
“That’s right. So, what will it take, Kitten?”
Me, in your bed.
“Name your price.”
“Are you suggesting you’ll pay me to fuck you?” I square my shoulders. “I’m not a hooker.”
He grins, and my toes curl in my ridiculously high heels. “No, I’m going to pay you a dollar amount to attend a function with me. The fucking is just a benefit of the pretend engagement. And forget about house rules. Only my rules apply when you’re in my bed.”
His rules. The guy didn’t look or act like any rules applied to him.
Halle-freaking-lujah!
His fingers slide down my back, brushing along the zipper. “I know you like that idea.”
I lift my chin, a feeble attempt at dignity, even though he’s right—I do like that idea. In fact, all I want to do is drop to the floor and spread my legs for the guy I’d been crushing on since my teenage years. “Really? How do you know that?”
His gaze moves over me, undressing me with his eyes. The slow, leisurely inspection, combined with the heat in his eyes, suggests he’s considering every depraved activity he’d like to do to me. My breath grows quicker, my nipples swelling to the point of pain.
“Because, Kitten”—he bends his knees and his cock presses against my sex—“you want this. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your body.”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
His gaze moves over mine, and something dark flashes in his eyes, something that tells me he’s not a man to be played with. “Yes or no?” he asks.
Jesus, it’s been a long time since I’ve been around Sean. He was always bossy, but now he’s a direct, straight-shooting, right-to-the-point kind of guy.
I try for casual. “Well…I suppose I could help out with the function. I really don’t have any plans for the weekend.”
“And the fucking?” I open my mouth, but he presses his finger to my lips to stop me. “Before you answer, you should be warned, though.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, forcing his way inside. “I might just destroy this pretty mouth of yours with my cock. Ever since you climbed on stage, all I’ve thought about is having these sweet lips wrapped around me.
Oh. My. God.
Chapter Four
Sean
I have no idea what kind of game Kennedy is playing. I only know that she’s playing one and it involves me. When she appeared on stage at nine sharp—looking like she’d just been dipped in sin—two things became glaringly apparent. One, she’s not acting like the innocent I remember, and two, my sister is somehow involved in this setup. Which means sexy Kennedy Lane, who makes my balls fucking ache, is no longer off-limits.
I still don’t know why she’s pretending to be someone else, or why she thinks I don’t recognize her. I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. But right now, as she walks ahead of me and my gaze slides down her back to settle on her lush ass, there is another bottom I’m more interested in exploring.
A savage, hungry growl rumbles in the depths of my throat as I take in her curves, the sway of her body as she goes back to the table to collect her jacket. She takes a sip of her wine, and when she brushes her tongue over her bottom lip again, my cock throbs and something dark stirs inside me. Jesus, I’m going to fucking destroy her.
I look her over as she turns back to me, my mind’s eye tracking the path my tongue will take. I’m going to eat every inch of her and leave her spent and bruised come morning. Her blue eyes widen, a hint of unease, but everything about her says she wants this—wants me.
Heat flares through me and my
balls constrict as I slip my hand around her waist and guide her to the elevators. She keeps casting me quick glances, and it feels like an eternity as we wait for the doors to open. When they do, I usher her on, anxious to have her alone. An elderly couple slips in beside us. Too bad. I might have taken her right here against the back mirror.
“Lovely evening,” the gentleman says. I smooth my hand over my tie, an effort to present composure as arousal burns through me.
“Great night,” I say, and pull Kennedy against me to hide my erection. It jabs her waist, and her little intake of breath makes me smile.
If she were as bold as she’s pretending to be, no way would she gasp at my hard cock pressing against her. In fact, she might have rubbed against it, teased me a little, the way she was trying to tease me in the booth. Fuck, why does the idea of a good girl wanting to play bad turn me on even more? I have no idea, but what I do know is if she wants bad, she came to the right guy.
I place my hand on her stomach, and she quivers as I splay my fingers. Sure, there is a couple beside us, but as they stare at the number pad, counting the floors as they slip by, I let my hand glide downward, lightly brushing over her pelvis.
Her breathing changes, becomes erratic, and I like teasing her, like that innocent pink flush on her cheeks. I can feel her heat reach out to me and can practically smell her arousal. Sweet fucking spun sugar, like those damn candy hearts she used to devour when she was a kid.
Be Mine.
I still remember her giving me that one when she was sixteen—when she and Olivia were secretly playing their favorite game of Truth or Dare. I knew everything those two did. Just like I knew how upset she was when she couldn’t get tickets to see her favorite British band, Random Nation. Olivia and I were going—we’d saved all summer, and the only way our father would let me go was if I took my kid sister. But despite all the babysitting Kennedy did, she didn’t have enough money for the overinflated ticket price. Christ, I worked extra hours at the coffee shop that summer, saving every goddamn tip I made. In the end I had enough money, but the fucking concert was sold out by the time I tried to get her a ticket. Not that she knew any of that. The last thing I wanted to do was give her the wrong impression. Which was why when she handed me that stupid Be Mine candy, I tossed it into my mouth and laughed at her, treating her like she was a stupid kid. She ran away, embarrassed. But it was either that or follow through with every depraved activity I wanted to do with her.
But tonight…tonight I will be hers and she’ll be mine, and I plan to get my fucking fill of her once and for all. Tomorrow night she’ll help me out at the cocktail party, and on Sunday life will go back to normal. Hopefully that normal will include Cochrane as a new client.
The elevator stops on my floor, and I slide my arm around her back, resting it at the sweet swell of her ass, and guide her off. Her steps slow, and I pray to fuck she isn’t having second thoughts. Fifty hand-jobs won’t be enough to get me through the night if she changes her mind.
“Kitten?” I ask, pulling my key card from my pocket. “Everything okay?” I want her certain. I want to fuck the hell out of her, but I won’t lay my hand on her if she’s not game.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice stroking my cock and flaring the need inside me.
“You good?”
“No one can know about this,” she begins. “I’m not supposed to sleep with the customers.”
Since I’m not really her customer—because she’s not really a dancer at Carleton House—I’m not sure why she doesn’t want anyone to know about us, or what else she is hiding, but I’ll play along for now. “My lips are sealed.”
“This is just a one-time thing,” she adds.
“One time,” I agree, and I flash the key card over the lock. The light turns green, and I push open the door and wave my hand for her to enter.
“Nice place,” she says as she glances around my penthouse suite.
“Nice indeed,” I say, my voice deeper than moments before as my gaze slides to her lush ass—one I definitely plan to spank. She spins, and when she faces me, I capture both her hands, slip them around her back, and hold them there with one of mine. “Tell me what you were thinking about,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Her voice is wavering, and I like that she’s rattled, like that I can do that to her.
“When I was rubbing my cock, thinking about driving it into this pretty mouth of yours, what was going through your mind?”
Her head drops, her long hair shadowing her expression. “I––” she begins, then shuts her mouth. But I’ll have none of that. Tonight, we’re going to fuck and fuck hard, and I want to know every dirty thought she has, every little thing she wants done to her.
“Tell me.”
“I was thinking…”
I cup her chin and angle it so she’s forced to look at me. “What?”
“That I wished I could see what you were doing.”
Hmmm, not quite what I expected her to say, but it’s definitely something I can work with. “I can make that happen. As long as I get the same in return.”
Her chest heaves, those creamy white breasts of hers rising and falling with an innocence I can’t wait to exploit.
“What do you mean?”
I hold both of her wrists in my palm, and run my free hand down the front of her body until I reach her sex. Backing her up, I press her to the wall and cup her hot mound. “This,” I say. “Tonight, this is mine. I’m going to do whatever I want with it, and if I want you to touch yourself, to spread your sweet lips wide so I can see every inch of you, you’ll do it.”
“But—”
I press my finger to her lips. “You’re in my territory now, Kitten. This is my playground, and you’re my toy. I get to play with you any way I want. Only my rules apply here.” Heat flashes in her eyes, and I smirk at the raw need emanating from her body.
I lower my head and capture her mouth. My tongue seeks entrance, and she leans into me. Her mouth is soft, so goddamn soft, her body so pliable in my arms, it’s like she’s never been touched or kissed before. Then again, before tonight, before I have my way with her, it’ll be like she’s never really been fucked.
Her tongue flicks across mine, her taste so sweet it just about drives me insane. I need to have her. All of her. Now. After a good, hard kiss to mark her as mine for the night, I step back. My gaze never leaves hers as I tug on my tie. She watches me carefully, her eyes wide, wanting. I catch the way her mouth drops open, the way she’s rubbing her wrists together, a telltale sign I bet she doesn’t even know she’s sending. Christ, little Kennedy Lane is such an easy read, but I’d bet my next paycheck she’s never been tied up in her entire life—no matter how much she wants to be.
Time to fix that.
“On the bed, hands behind your back.” I give her a little nudge to set her in motion, and she hurries across the room and sinks onto the bed. I take in her posture, the rapid-fire pulse on her neck. “Panties off.”
“Sean,” she says, my name coming out on a breathy whisper.
“Yeah, Kitten?” I ask slowly.
Her entire body is practically vibrating. “I…nothing.” She lifts her backside from the bed, reaches under her dress, and removes her panties. She’s about to kick off her shoes to make the removal easier, but I shake my head.
“Shoes stay.”
She works the panties past the high heels, tosses them on the floor, and lowers herself again. I take a moment to look at her. How did I get so fucking lucky? A sweet innocent all dressed up in sin and just waiting for me to make her feel good. Motherfucker. I swear to God I must have done something right in a previous life.
I step up to her and push her hair from her shoulders so I can see that pretty mouth of hers. I can’t wait to fuck it. As I admire her, she stares up at me, her eyes wide, like she’s holding her breath and counting down the seconds until I touch her.
“Breathe,” I say.
She sucks in air, and the desire I feel for
her rocks me to the core. How many fucking years have I dreamed about this exact scenario? Kennedy Lane, mine to do with as I please. Sweet Jesus. I take a second to savor the moment, savor her before I strip her naked and slide my fingers into her slick core.
“Sean,” she pleads, her eyes flicking shut.
I angle my head, take in her quivering body. “Look at me.” Her lids flutter open, and I grip her hair, pulling on it gently so her head lifts. “Do you even have any idea what you’re begging for, Kitten?”
“Yes…no. I don’t know.”
My gaze drops to her parted lips, all wet and ready for me. “Could it be that you want your mouth on my cock?” I push my finger between her lips to spread them. “Want to fuck me with this hot, tight hole until I come?”
A little cry catches in her throat. “I think so,” she murmurs.
“You want my cum, don’t you? You’re a naughty little girl who wants every drop, and you don’t care how you get it—in your mouth or in your pussy.”
“Sean,” she hisses out. Christ, what is it about the way she says my name that turns me on so much?
“Then again, maybe what you really want is my tongue on your body. Maybe you want me to lick those hard nipples poking through your bra, or could it be that you want me to bury my mouth between your legs and eat at you until you come all over my face. Could that be it?”
The pink on her cheeks darkens like a goddam confession, as her nipples grow so hard I’m sure they’re going to cut through the lace holding them back. My fingers itch to touch those lush breasts, to roll those hard buds around in my mouth until she’s screaming my name.
Now that I have her right where I want her, I continue. “Or maybe you want me to tie your hands together, limit your movement while I drive my cock inside you so hard and deep you’ll never walk the same again.”
“Oh. My. God.” She breathes out.
“Better yet…” I brush my thumb over her mouth.
“What?” she asks.
“I’m going to do all three.” I wait for a second, examine her responses, then say, “Yeah, you want it all. You want every little bit of that because you’re a greedy little girl, aren’t you?”
