by Ana Adams
Adrien eased onto the couch beside her, propping himself up on an arm to look down at her. A smile lingered on his face as his gaze swept up and down her body. His warm hand found the hem of her tank top, rubbing the small of her belly through the thin fabric.
“I wanted to give you a tour of the house first,” he said, his hand making wide arcs between her breastbone and her hips. “But maybe we can wait until later.”
“Definitely.” Her eyes were focused on his hand, her body clenching with need as his fingertips made torturous rounds between breast and pubis mons. “If you’ve seen one house, you’ve seen them all.”
He laughed, fingertips pausing at the sliver of skin exposed between her shirt and button. Their eyes met. He deftly unbuttoned her work pants, unzipping them slowly.
“May I?” His voice came out lower, softer. She shivered and jerked her head in a nod. This man was a drug and she never wanted to give it up.
He sat up and guided her pants down the length of her legs and over the tops of her feet. Tossing them aside, he took a moment to look her up and down, eyes lingering on the satin black panties she’d chosen today.
“I like where this is going,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level, “but I think we should play fair here. You do me and I’ll do you.”
He lifted a brow. “Quite the diplomat. I like your suggestion.”
She propped herself up and slid his suit coat off his shoulders. She laid it to the side, pleased by the progress but desperate to see any inch of his skin.
“Now my turn.” He slid her long-sleeved work shirt off, tossing it on top of his suit coat. Her forearms prickled with anticipation as she contemplated what she’d remove next.
“Hmmm.” She looked him up and down. Penis or chest hair? Both were incredibly tempting. The fine, dark material of his slacks were suspiciously bulging between his legs. She swallowed hard.
Reaching for his belt buckle, she undid it with shaky hands and then unbuttoned his pants. His chest rose and fell as he watched her. Her face flushed as she brushed the hard bulge while unzipping his pants. He tensed beside her, drawing a low breath.
She pulled his pants off, revealing lean, muscular legs and a healthy sprinkling of dark leg hair. Pushing the pants to the side, she admired his trim lower half, gaze snagging on the tight black briefs hugging his hard cock. The underwear tented above his hard-on. When she looked up at him, his eyes were waiting for hers.
“Now me.” His hand connected with her right hip bone. “I should add, the rules of the game are that the game stops once one of us reaches the final layer.”
“Oh yeah? You mean the skin layer?”
He nodded, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yes. And then the winner is able to do whatever they want with the loser.”
She laughed. “Please don’t be a sadist, then.”
Adrien pressed his lips to hers. When they parted, he whispered hotly into her ear, “I promise I won’t do anything you won’t like.”
His fingers found the edge of her panties and yanked downward. They were off before she realized, tossed across the room, and Adrien grazed his fingertips over the light stubble of her pubic mons. She inhaled sharply, clitoris pulsing with anticipation as his fingers drifted downward, over the swollen lips of her sex, thumb brushing gently against the throbbing nub.
She shivered and he caught her lips in a kiss. He began massaging slow circles over her clit, occasionally pinching at it with his thumb and forefinger, eliciting jabs of pleasure so intense, she moaned into his shoulder. His thick fingers prodded farther down, seeking the slick hole, and he sunk his middle finger into her depths as he worked her clit with his thumb, never missing a beat as he pushed her toward a rapid climax.
Head spinning, she clung to him, her body tense as he finger-fucked her harder and faster, her swollen clit screaming for orgasm as he knocked against it. She arched her back, spreading her legs. She wanted him inside her—faster, deeper. Adrien plunged his fingers inside again, curling them back toward him, and that motion was the final push off the edge. She screamed as the climax raced upward and exploded inside her, warmth mingling with a rushing noise inside her head as she came hard against his hand, body pulsing and twitching as the orgasm swelled then receded.
She gulped, looking up at him with wonder. Her breathing returned to normal, sweat fading to a thin film on her face. He smiled down at her, slipped his fingers out of her, and placed a kiss on her belly.
“Welcome to my home.”
Chapter Four
Adrien’s cock was hard enough to cut through stone after getting Clara off. She looked like an angel splayed out on his couch, the flush of her orgasm fading from her cheeks. He didn’t know what had overcome him—only that he’d been desperate to bring her to orgasm as soon as he’d laid eyes on her earlier that night. More would come later. It had to—this hard-on wouldn’t let him do much else for long.
Clara reached for her panties after a moment but he stopped her. “I think we should go on a nude tour of the house, don’t you think?”
She grinned. “You really are a freak. And I like it.” She slipped off her tank top, displaying a black satin bra to match her panties. His cock twitched as his eyes slid over her lush body—curves and swells that could inspire drooling if he weren’t careful. He cupped the dip of her waist, her creamy skin like velvet beneath his hand.
“Maybe I can do this part.” He reached behind her to fiddle with the clasp of her bra. After a few tries, it came loose, crumpling to the crooks of her elbows. Heavy, round breasts greeted him, her nipples tiny pink points. He dipped down and nipped one between his lips. She gasped and then giggled as he nibbled on it.
He cleared his throat, adjusting his cock beneath the straining briefs. “We should start the tour. Before I lose control again.” He offered a hand and she took it, leaving her bra on the couch. Folding her arm in his, he led her toward the far wall of windows.
“Here we see San Francisco by night.” He gestured toward the glittering array of buildings in the distance, and the inky blackness of the bay. “There’s a wraparound porch we can visit in the daytime if you’d like. And over here is the kitchen.” He led her around a corner, where his large, marble-topped kitchen greeted them.
She gasped. “This is the size of my apartment. I mean…” She tutted. “Never mind.”
“It’s quite large. But I didn’t design it. I don’t have such need for space in the kitchen. I barely have time to cook, really.” He led her past the ornate acacia dining room table, past the open living room to the other side of the fireplace. A winding staircase in the corner led up to the great room and attached study. He pushed open the door to his bedroom, the guest room, and the two accompanying bathrooms. Clara made appreciative noises at each new room. After creeping up the staircase and admiring the family paintings on the wall of the great room, she paused in front of a bust.
“Is this also your family?” She said it like a joke, a smirk lingering on her face.
“Actually, yes.” He cleared his throat, admiring the bronze replica of his grandfather’s head and shoulders. “This is Leopold. My grandfather.”
The smile fell from her face. “Wow. You guys don’t mess around.”
He clenched his jaw, wondering if now would be the time to reveal his lineage. It would be a game changer…and possibly a game breaker. He liked how easy and effortless their connection was. If he told her his heritage…she’d treat him differently. It was practically guaranteed.
She didn’t press further, so he didn’t offer any more information about his grandfather. She moved along the walls, nodding and murmuring at each relic and piece of art he’d brought along for this residence. Maintaining his family history was important, no matter where he was in the world. And his family had been in power long enough to ensure that there were enough pieces for multiple residences all around the globe.
He watched the jiggle of her butt as she padded along the soft carpet toward the plants in t
he far corner. He wanted to lick her from head to toe, nibble on every available part of her, and then do it all over again. The woman drove him wild. He was normally cautious about who he brought back, and even more cautious about who he brought into his bed. But Clara made him toss the rulebook.
She dragged her fingers over the back of the black leather couch, eyes drifting up and down his body. She bit her bottom lip, cheeks growing red.
“Something on your mind?”
She nodded toward him, eyes below his waist. He looked down; his cockhead had slipped out of his underwear, poking fat and purple beneath the waistband of his briefs. He grinned up at her, pushing the underwear down to his ankles.
“I promised a naked tour after all.”
She cleared her throat, eyes darting all over his body. “You should come here. So we can sit on the couch.”
He headed her way, pulling her into a hot kiss. Her soft belly brushed the tip of his penis and he shivered, sitting back on the couch and pulling her down on top of him. She bent her knees and hovered over him, looking down at him with wild eyes.
“Be honest,” she breathed, cinching her arms around his neck. “Do you do this with every lady you meet at the boring charity fundraisers?”
He laughed, grabbing her bottom lip with his teeth. “Definitely not. Women like you don’t tend to show up at those things.”
“Women like me?” She scoffed. “What, middle class?”
He grabbed a handful of her butt cheek, laughing. “I’m not talking about socioeconomic standing.” He nudged her chin with his nose and kissed the soft underside of her neck. “You make me feel like I can be normal.”
Her cheeks flushed again and she grew shy. “And you can’t be normal otherwise?”
Now was not the time to go there. He caught her lips in a kiss and squeezed her hips, bringing her creamy body closer to his. She rubbed her tight nipples against his chest, teasing them against the tight coils of his chest hair. Her hand slipped down between their bodies and sought the swollen head of his cock. He groaned as she traced the tip of it, thumb slipping against the hot ridge of his cockhead and then down the thick shaft. She fisted his length, working him slowly at first and then faster. He panted into her ear as she jacked him off.
“Mmmm, Clara,” he murmured, unable to open his eyes. Pleasure thrummed through him. “Don’t stop.”
“But I want you inside me.” She bit his earlobe, yanking gently. “Do you have a condom?”
He caught her in a sloppy kiss. “I’ll be right back.” A bathroom in the far corner held a secret stash of condoms, a supply he used so rarely that he wondered when he’d seen them last. In the wooden vanity, an unopened box waited for him.
When he entered the great room, Clara was spread eagle on the couch, looking at him with eyes of fire. He practically ran to her, tearing open the condom with his teeth. He rolled it onto the head of his cock, eyes careening over the sexy curves and dips of her body, licking his lips as he imagined sinking into her heat and tightness, practically crazy with anticipation as she sat tense and begging before him.
“I need it,” she murmured, fidgeting as he pulled the condom over the last inch. “Hurry!”
He pressed his lips to hers as he lined up their parts, dragging the tip of his penis along the crease of her pussy. She moaned beneath him as the head of his cock nudged her clit, and then he maneuvered himself to the sweet heat between her legs, pressing himself inside slowly, languorously, relishing the blissful crawl of time as he sunk deep into her.
She arched beneath him, mouth caught in an O-shape, as his cock found the last inch of space inside her. Chest heaving against her, he groaned and flexed against her pelvis, the warmth of her pussy nearly driving him over the edge.
“Clara,” he gasped, rolling his hips in a slow circle. “You feel amazing.”
She locked her ankles behind his back, eyes wild, her chignon bun loose with stray hairs around her face. “Amazing doesn’t even cover it. Fuck me, Adrien.”
He pumped slowly at first, and then harder as their rhythm emerged; his mind catapulted into the stars and pleasure grew at a frightening rate, sidling up through his limbs, zipping through every vein in his body. She cried out and arched against him. He pulled her closer to him and fucked her hard—so hard he couldn’t see straight. Sweat pooled at his temples as they moved toward a blissful climax.
She was the first to go. She clutched his biceps, nails digging into his flesh as she screamed again, her pussy convulsing and quaking around his cock as she slipped over the edge. The tiny points of pain in his arms pushed him over the edge, too; he groaned and released, hot cum spilling out as the orgasm shuddered through him.
As the last dregs of pleasure drained, he leaned down for a kiss, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, their eyes locked. A grin erupted on her face.
“Damn.” She blinked lazily, ankles still locked around his back.
“You’re right about that.” His voice came out weak, stilted. The woman had taken his breath away.
She sighed happily and nuzzled against his chest. “Adrien, I think I can safely say this is the best house tour I’ve ever gotten in my life.”
Chapter Five
Sunlight broke through the black curtains of the bedroom. Clara opened one eye to assess her surroundings. Adrien’s bed was larger than a king—what it was called, she couldn’t even imagine—and the comforter felt like it was made of actual velvet clouds. She sighed, nuzzling deeper into the comfy nest, unwilling to totally wake up and end this penthouse adventure.
“Did you sleep well?” Adrien’s voice appeared at her ear, deep and calming. She grinned without meaning to.
“Better than well.” She yawned, turning to face him. They’d spooned the entire night despite the gargantuan dimensions of his bed. “I slept so well, I don’t think I can ever go back to my regular bed. You’ve ruined me for life.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I know one more way I’ll be ruining you this morning.”
“That sounds…a little frightening.”
“I promise it’s not. I want to make you breakfast.”
“And how will that ruin me?”
His finger traced the bottom swell of her breast. “Well…waffles.”
She gasped. “You will ruin me! I can’t wait.”
Nuzzling her neck, Adrien placed soft kisses behind her ear. “Shall we?”
She tossed back the covers and they both hopped out of bed. Following him to the kitchen, feet smashing pleasantly into the soft carpet of his bedroom, she stretched. Now this was one cool way to wake up after a shitty day at work.
In the expansive kitchen, Adrien reached for an apron hanging on a hidden hook. Wrapping it around his waist, he surveyed the work space. His apron read Trophy Husband. Clara suppressed a giggle.
He cast a quizzical look at her as he rummaged through cabinets, gathering the necessary ingredients. “What?”
“Your apron.”
He glanced down and then laughed. “Oh, right. This was a gift from one of my best friends.”
“Cute gift. You’re not somebody’s husband, are you?”
He scoffed. “God, no.”
The confirmation both relieved and confused her. It wasn’t like she expected anything more from him than this unexpected, sexually-satisfying night. But deep inside, the idea of him as a husband was strangely titillating and bizarre. Better to push those thoughts away. They didn’t belong in her reality.
Adrien whipped together the basic ingredients for the waffle batter with surprising dexterity. At first glance the night before, she’d never have pegged him for a man who knew his way around the kitchen…much less with such whisking skills.
“I have to say…for a man with a driver who works in some remote division of technology…I’m surprised you know how to cook.”
He glanced up at her, wisps of his pompadour from the night before falling over his eye. “I think that’s a
compliment.”
“It is. And you’re right, you’re ruining me.” You’re too gorgeous, too funny, and too amazing to be real.
“And you haven’t even tried the waffles yet! At least taste them. They might be awful. I haven’t made these in years.”
She leaned against the kitchen counter, chin in palm, transfixed. “I don’t know if I should try them. I might need more of them. And then what will I do?”
He cast a playful look at her, fire in his eyes. “You might just have to move in.”
The comment was innocent enough, but it reminded her of the dismal reality awaiting her beyond the luxury of the penthouse. Like how her rent was due and there was no money to pay it. Her face fell. “I might need to.”
Shit—she hadn’t meant to say that. She cleared her throat, looking away.
“Is everything okay?”
She sighed, tears pricking at her eyes. What was she even doing with someone like him? Like he’d really be interested in a broke girl with a shitty job. He jetted around the world, had a passport, put bronze busts on display in his house. If Clara was lucky, she could afford salmon once a year from the grocery store. This was a great one-night stand and all, but it felt more like a strange breed of self-torture.
“It’s fine.” Her throat tightened.
He poured in a serving of vanilla. “You never told me why you were talking to that headmaster last night.”
She sighed. “I was trying to get a job.”
“A job?”
“Yeah. You do have one, right? Or is all of this money inherited?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could think better. She creased her brows, the snark hanging strangely in the air. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
He set down his spoon, leveling her with his gaze. “I do have a job. But I did also inherit a lot of money. I can’t control that.”
She sighed again, massaging her forehead. “I know. I’m not trying to be a jerk. I just…I got my master’s degree last year. My goal is to teach biology at a private school. I want to run labs and help young students appreciate and understand science. Have a little office in the building, attend graduation ceremonies every year. But the school of my dreams isn’t hiring. In fact, it seems nowhere is hiring right now.”
