“Let me guess,” she said wryly, “your own personal spot.”
He shut the car off and sent her a radiant smile as he opened his door. “Of course.”
She followed suit and began to open her own door, but Garrett had already rounded the back of the car and pulled the door open the rest of the way. “That’s my job.” He offered her his hand, and she took it with a grateful nod.
Madeline tried to take her hand back, but he tucked it into his elbow and pulled her close as he led her toward a set of elevators that opened when he pressed the up button.
“Is this your own personal elevator, too?” she quipped.
He pressed P, the topmost button in the long column of them, and then pinned her with a glare. “What is with your extra sass today?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but her raging lust hormones made formulating a sharp retort impossible.
His glare turned into a playful yet smoldering and self-indulgent smile. “That bad, huh?”
The doors closed, and she yanked her hand out of his grasp. “Excuse me?”
Garrett turned toward her, and his body crowded hers into the far corner of the elevator. She fought the urge to close her eyes and take in his scent and the warm feeling of his nearness, but she locked her gaze on his and refused to back down, no matter how wobbly her knees were. His hand came up, and his thumb traced her lower lip. Everything inside her froze, and her breath hitched audibly in the small space.
“I thought so,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers. He used his thumb to pull her lower lip down a bit, and he kissed her fully and so sensually that she leaned into the wall behind her, needing its solidity to keep her grounded. He stepped into her so that his hard, unyielding body pressed against hers, making her breasts pillow up on his chest. He dwarfed her even as he held her gently, his fingers weaving through the hair at the base of her neck and tilting her chin. His kiss deepened, intensified until she could not breathe. Her mind reeled as it tried desperately to process what had just happened.
“Mr. Ellis, I—”
“For the last time, call me Garrett,” he said huskily. He kissed her again as if punctuating his statement. She realized then that he wanted no more discussion of the matter, that there would be no need or even use of bringing up their, up until that moment, strictly professional relationship. And besides, Madeline knew instinctually she couldn’t have mustered up any kind of protestation at that moment even if she had truly wanted to. But the truth was, stopping him was the last thing she wanted to do.
The elevator came to a stop with a soft ding. Garrett pulled away and, holding her gaze, stepped out with an inviting smile playing at his unimaginably seductive lips.
“Come on. I’ll show you around.”
Madeline pried herself away from the wall with effort and took a few shaky steps while he sauntered into the room with an extra spring in his step. She was so busy staring at the way his pants cupped his taut ass that she was shocked when she actually stopped to take in her surroundings. She stood in a huge kitchen full of modern appliances, all looking so new that she wondered how long Garrett had lived here.
Garrett’s steps moved farther away from her. She followed blindly, so busy staring at all the shiny knobs and appliances in the kitchen that she did not watch where she was going. Did he and Dalton use all of these things? Did they know how to cook? Surely they had some sort of personal chef.
She let out a squeak when she ran into something hard and solid—Garrett’s wide back.
“Watch your step,” he said over his shoulder, and she nodded even through the face-full of his suit jacket. Garrett pulled something to the side—a door—and she stepped into the place he vacated for her, then took in the glorious sight of the Dallas skyline twinkling at her against the dark night sky. Madeline stepped out onto the huge terrace and gaped. It felt as if the whole world were spread out before her and waiting at her feet. So this was what it all looked like from the Ellises’s point of view.
Garrett came up beside her, his tall, athletic frame towering over hers. “I bet you’ve never seen Dallas like this. New York, Chicago, both cities known for their amazing skylines, but Dallas has a certain charm that can’t be beat.”
“I see what you mean.” But she was not looking at the skyline anymore. She was looking at his profile in the semi-darkness. His eyelashes were enviously long and gave his whole face a boyish appeal. His nose was straight and well-formed, and his pouty lips made her want to press her own against them. He needed a shave, and his collar was unbuttoned. Her pussy clenched. Garrett always looked primed for sex. Always.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment to gird herself against his maleness. The warm summer breeze blew across her skin, and the sounds of life so far down below them caressed her ears. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze collided with Garrett’s.
He pulled something out of his pocket. “You forgot your scarf at Hester’s, but since it got dirty, I decided to get you a new one.”
Her scarf. Of course. She had been in such a hurry to get out of there that she’d forgotten it.
“You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
She held out her hand expecting him to give it to her, but Garrett just wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her to face his wide, hard chest. He smelled like warm, virile male, and his fresh-out-of-the-shower scent made her mouth—and other places—water.
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Let me tie it for you.”
Warning bells went off in her mind, but the mad thumping of her heart quickly drowned them out. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
Fingering the silky material and making her wish he was touching her skin in that lazy, sensual way, Garrett closed the short distance between them. The heat radiating from his wide chest was the only thing she could feel. He lifted his arms and draped the scarf around her neck, his arms bracketing her, almost caging her in. Or maybe that was the terrifying, never-ending lust raging inside her that kept her rooted in place.
His fingers grazed over the sensitive skin of her neck, lingering and caressing her until sparks of arousal swam down her back, loosening her tense muscles and winding her up for him at the same time.
“You’re trembling.” Garrett’s breath tickled the fine hairs that framed her forehead.
The sticky, sultry air coated her skin and warmed it, making her perfume drift up in lazy waves. It scented the air around her and mingled with Garrett’s cologne.
Lordy, even their personal products wanted to fuck.
She grew uncomfortably warm, and Garrett was not helping standing so close that his body brushed against hers. He looked so damn edible. His suits always fit him so perfectly and molded to his impeccable form like nothing she had ever seen before. They accented his broad shoulders and wide chest, his narrow hips and his long, thick, well-formed thighs. She admired the faint shadows that collected under his cheekbones and darkened his face. It made him look less boyish and more like Dalton. In her deepest, darkest fantasies, she imagined both brothers fucking her at the same time while she rode their cocks, coming like crazy until she could not hold herself up. She wished Dalton were here with them now, looking at her with his dark, hypnotic eyes.
Garrett’s mouth curved into the sexiest, most wicked smile she ever saw. Her clit thrummed with her every frenetic heartbeat, and she breathed past the dizziness in her mind and the aching arousal in her pussy.
He leaned down, dark intent in his eyes, and used the ends of the scarf to pull her closer to him and fit his lips against hers. Madeline’s whole body stiffened, and her heartbeat spiked, making her blood roar through her ears. His scent rose and surrounded her, blanketing her in his very essence as his hands roamed over her arms, her shoulders, her hips. His hard body grew harder still, bigger, more virile as he held her in his embrace. She was suddenly very aware of how his hands spanned her back and how his hard, thick length pressed against her belly. Then the tip of his tongue
swept against her bottom lip, and she opened up to him on a gasp. A low rumble came from deep within his chest, and he wove the fingers of one hand into her hair and angled her and deepened his kiss. She did not need to second-guess her instincts about his sexual prowess. She now knew everything she would ever need to know about him. He touched her as if he owned her, as if he had been touching her like this for years. And her body accepted him as if it were the most natural thing to do.
Madeline rose up onto her toes and grasped the lapels of his jacket between her fingers. Then everything spun out of control. His hands slid down her sides, tracing her waist and hips, then dipped around to cup her ass. She tensed in his arms, but he just pulled her flush against him until she felt the ridges and ripples of his muscled torso. She pulled her lips away from his.
“Garrett, wait. I think—”
“Shh. Stop thinking.” His voice was low and gravelly, and the rough sound grated against all the right nerve endings.
His lips made their way down her neck and to the top of her cleavage and her shoulders. Then, holding her gaze with his, naughtiness written all over his full mouth, he lowered himself in front of her and ran his hands up the backs of her legs. His lips followed the path of his hands, and Madeline had to grip his shoulders and lock her knees together to keep from toppling over.
He grinned up at her as he fiddled with the elastic band of her panties. “You won’t be needing these.”
Madeline gulped in a breath as Garrett hooked his finger inside the crotch of her panties and started pulling them down. She gritted her teeth against the moan that threatened to escape her when his finger brushed against her pussy lips. Madeline watched, entranced, as he pulled her panties down her legs, and they landed around her feet.
“Step out,” he commanded, his glittering eyes still holding hers.
She nodded lightly and used his shoulders to balance herself. He tossed her panties somewhere and slid his palms up and around to where her legs met her groin. Her pussy throbbed, and her clit ached for some attention, but he suddenly pulled away.
Garrett straightened to his full height, and Madeline craned her neck back to look up at him. Then he kissed her, this time lifting her up with the strength of his arms and forcing her to wrap her legs around his lean hips. His fingers kneaded her ass cheeks and ground her against his hard cock. Even through his pants, she felt the graceful ridge of his cockhead rasp against her clit. She moaned into his mouth and locked her heels together, using her newfound leverage to rub herself against him.
“Oh, yeah, Maddie, that’s it. Use me.” He pressed his lips against hers, violently this time, and she kissed him back, clinging and grinding and moaning as he walked them across the terrace.
He laid her down on a cushion-topped bench and hovered over her, bracing his weight with his arms. Holding her gaze, he slid his hand from her knee and up her thigh until his fingers slipped under her skirt. His wandering touch jolted her back to reality, and Madeline pressed her thighs together and hoped to God she could find some way to keep her dress on because she was so turned on for him it was embarrassing. But he probably knew that already.
“Um, Garrett, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“W–well…” He kissed her quiet and moved his lips across her cheekbone to her jaw. His warmth and his weight surrounded her and made her body vibrate with her awareness of him.
“Shut your mind off, Maddie. Just sit back and let yourself go.” His breath rasped against her ear, making her shiver.
His hands moved over her skin, leaving it overheated and sensitized in their wake, and every ounce of pleasure and anticipation pooled in her pussy and pearled her nipples.
Garrett kissed the sensitive patch of skin under her ear, then made his way down her neck, switching between hard and soft kisses, testing her, gauging her reactions even as she silently begged for more. She was aware of him being aware of her, of his eyes on her face and of his ears listening for every hitch of her breath, sigh, and gasp. He made her feel torn open at the seams. He was undoing her, unlacing her tightly kept control and reserve with just the touch of his lips against her skin.
With his eyes locked on hers, Garrett pressed a kiss to the top of each of her breasts while his hand drifted up her side. Madeline sucked in a breath, and her heart stopped beating. His big hand grasped the neckline of her dress and pulled. Hard. Apparently, he grabbed her bra, too, because her breasts popped out, and her hardened nipples practically begged him for attention. Her hands shot up to cover her bared flesh.
“No, don’t do that. Don’t hide.”
“But—” She felt herself flushing pink. What was she thinking? Here she was, Madeline Spencer, a non-profit activist, with Garrett Ellis who was known for his love affairs with models and movie stars and his ungodly amount of money. She tried harder to cover herself, but Garrett held fast, his grip surprisingly strong yet gentle.
“I just want a peek. Just a little glance at you. I’ve been fantasizing about it for days. All I can see when I lie down to go to sleep are those naughty Catholic school teacher shoes.”
Her head popped up off the cushions. “My shoes?”
“Oh, yeah. Especially the way they wrapped around your ankles.” Saying that, Garrett straightened and plucked her leg from where it was wrapped around his waist and lifted her ankle to his lips and moved up to her calf, the back of her knee, her inner thigh. “I’m going to look at every inch of you, starting,” his gaze shifted from her face to her heaving breasts, “here.”
He bent his head and pressed light kisses to the undersides of her breasts, sending tingles of sensation to her nipples and lower—much lower—to her pussy. His kisses traced the circumference of her breasts, teasing her with the fleeting pressure and achingly sweet flicks of his tongue over her nipples. She pressed herself against his face, begging him, commanding him silently to stop teasing. He pressed his lips between her breasts, and Madeline felt him smile against her skin. It felt so good. Dangerously good.
“Garrett…”
“Hmm?”
“I, um, I—”
“You’re still thinking, aren’t you?” He nuzzled the underside of the breast closest to him and lifted himself up.
Garrett’s blue-gray eyes were so intense in the illuminated darkness as he lifted the hem of her skirt up over her hips and her belly. He kissed, touched, and caressed every inch of flesh he revealed until Madeline undulated beneath him. Madeline was not usually self-conscious about her body, per se, at least she hadn’t been until that moment. There were times when she wished she could fine-tune things so she was taller, her legs longer, her breasts bigger, but in that moment, with Garrett staring down at her with a look of male triumph and devilish intent on his face, she wondered what he saw with his jaded eyes.
She looked down her body and saw that her nipples glistened from his attentions and her body writhed as he slowly, teasingly made his way down her body again.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” His body hummed with his energy, and his grip on her flesh tightened the higher his palms slid up her legs. “Come on, Maddie. Open up for me.”
How the hell did he manage to sound so coaxing and teasing at a moment like this? She started to loosen the death clench on her knees, but as his palms slid an inch closer to her pussy, she panicked.
Oh, God, she could not do it. She had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. She was out of her depth, and she knew it. Garrett Ellis would eat her alive and leave her in a gasping heap of gluttonous lust. But he had woven a spell around her with his beauty and his skill and finesse, and she was helpless to break it, to deny him.
Closing her eyes, she stopped squeezing her legs together and let him open her up for his viewing pleasure. His hands crept higher and higher, and the tension in her stomach curled tighter and harder into something that Madeline did not know how to handle. On an instinctual level, she knew Garrett would leave her in countless s
hattered little pieces in the violent wake of his loving. And he seemed intent on doing just that. He was determined. It was as if he wanted to do something to make sure he branded his name on her so that she would always remember him.
He pressed a kiss against her pussy, and Madeline jumped at the contact. The idea of this man pressing his lips against her hot, dripping flesh made her toes curl. He used his thumbs to separate her pussy lips.
Madeline was torn between wanting to watch and wanting to pull away and clamp her thighs together. He stared at her pussy as if staring at a painting at an art gallery, and she did not know how much more of his careful appraisal she could handle. She moved her hips to shift away, but his hand shot out and gripped her inner thigh, digging into her flesh.
“No. Don’t move. I’m not done looking yet.”
She let out a huff of breath, and the loose hair around her face danced around her eyes. “I think you’ve been looking for long enough.”
“Don’t be shy. I’m just taking my time. After all, it’s a rather momentous occasion when I come across the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
Butterflies flapped madly around in her stomach, and elated, nervous glee coursed through her veins and pooled between her already overly moist thighs. She refused to let him see how much he affected her.
“Oh, please. You’re such a sweet talker.” She sat up and inched away, pulling her legs in like a pussy shield, to convince him she wasn’t as caught under his spell as he thought, that she still had her own free will. But the way his eyes flashed when he looked at her let her know he could see right through her, could see how helpless she really was every time they were together.
“Just accept the compliment. You should be flattered. I consider myself a pussy connoisseur, and I like what I see…” He trailed off, something devilish glinting in his eyes before he used his grip on her thigh to throw her off balance. She tumbled back onto the cushioned bench, her legs splaying every which way. His tongue flicked out, and she watched, horrified and horribly turned on, as the pad of it licked her—torturously slow—from her dripping pussy opening to her throbbing, swollen clit. “…and what I taste.”
Mitchell, Ava and Holiday, Sydney - A Bride for Two Tycoons [Male Order, Texas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 9
