“You might want to reserve judgment on that. How far does your trust extend, my sweet Rowan?”
My chest pinched.
Long and narrow, the shop held many styles of clothing but clearly catered to a wealthy clientele. There wasn’t anything that wouldn’t look good on me. I had no worries about any dresses, skirts, or blouses he’d chosen to put me in. What had me concerned was at the back of the store, placed far from view of the front windows. An impressive array of lingerie hung on racks, and I had a sinking suspicion Richard had explored every square inch of this place during my visit with Freddy.
While I would like to believe Richard had kept his choices to the clothes up front, the tone of his voice had said he expected to keep me on my toes.
Time to back out, if that was what I wanted, but what if I gave him control? For just this little bit? What harm would come from trying on a few outfits?
As I stood this close to him with his arms wrapped around me, his essence flooded my senses. Submit or not, there was no way the heat between us wouldn’t combust.
I gave my answer, “Those are the rules, right?” I sounded much braver than I felt.
“That’s true.”
“Got them,” Clara called out, interrupting our moment. “I grabbed a few other outfits I thought might strike your fancy.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me away. “Come, sweetie, the changing rooms are back here. And you,” she said, giving Richard an exaggerated wink, “let me show you where you may wait.”
I half-expected him to insist on coming back to the dressing rooms, but Richard let Clara lead him to the back of the store. We threaded past the lingerie section, and Richard slowed his steps near several barely there outfits. Clara glanced over her shoulder, noticing his pause, but managed to keep me going.
“I have the first outfit hanging for you,” she said, pushing me toward the dressing room.
Right outside, a three-panel mirror stretched from floor to ceiling. In front of it, was a low-raised dais. Two overstuffed chairs faced the mirrors—places for mothers, daughters, friends, and reluctant male companions to admire potential outfits.
As I headed into the changing room, Clara returned to Richard.
I paused for a second while Clara lifted a white lacy thing off the rack. My heart rate spiked. Did he expect me to model that in front of her?
I’d grown up shopping in stores similar to this one. Trying on clothes was usually accompanied by flutes of champagne, light classical music, and socialites networking over their husbands’ careers.
White linen wallpaper lined the walls with the faintest scrollwork providing a hint of texture. Diaphanous curtains hung at the corners, purely there for the impact of their design.
The room was an octagon, and a mirror filled every other wall. A watercolor of flowers hung on one of the empty walls. A low bench sat next to the back wall. Not a place for sitting, it was meant to hold a client’s street clothes. Small shelves and ledges on the third wall held bouquets of baby’s breath and roses, and scented candles imbued the entire room with the lightest fragrance of lilac and rose. There, on a hanger, a red dress waited.
I stripped down to my bra and panties and glanced at the deep crimson dress. Made from a knit fabric, it would hug my figure. With mid-length sleeves and a hem that would come to the tops of my knees, it was demure with a scooped neckline and high back, conservative with a hint of sexy. Smooth to the touch, the knit fabric had a slight give as I pulled it over my head. With a shimmy, I settled the dress over my body.
“Oh, that looks amazing,” Clara said, entering the dressing room. “Here, sweetie, let me get that zipper.”
Richard had said to trust him, and this was his shopping adventure, not mine, but I really hoped he loved this dress. Turning around, I viewed myself in the mirrors. The fabric clung to my body, revealing nothing yet hinting at everything. The design was demure, but I felt naked and exposed. No doubt it would knock Richard’s socks off.
“How many outfits will I be trying on?”
“Oh, he has picked several.”
“Any ugly sacks in the bunch?”
Her laughter came out as a light twitter. “Sweetie, trust me, he has very good taste. Now, go out there and show him while I gather the rest.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not what he wanted.”
“Oh.”
My knees knocked with each step, and the butterflies in my stomach took up a wild dance. I was fully clothed. Why did I feel so nervous?
When I exited the dressing room, it was to find Richard lounging in a chair. A tumbler of amber liquid sloshed in his hand. When he saw me, his entire body stilled. I headed to the raised dais, intending to model the dress to the best of my ability.
“No,” he said, his voice coarse and rough. “Come here.”
I obeyed the command, skirting the round dais, and closed the distance. He placed the tumbler on the table beside the chair and leaned forward, placing elbows to knees.
“Closer,” he said.
I took a step closer.
“Closer,” he demanded.
I fiddled with the fabric as I took the next step. Any closer, and I’d be in his lap.
“Closer.” He spread his knees wide.
The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down my spine. I stepped into the space between his knees. He leaned forward, which put his face at the level of my belly. It took every ounce of self-control not to step away, but I was determined to follow his every command.
He placed his hands against my knees, below the hem of the red dress. The heat radiating from his skin sent shivers racing up and down my body. My breaths deepened. Slowly, his hands inched up, moving from my knees to my outer thighs. He dipped his fingers beneath the dress and gripped my thighs, tugging me close.
“Amazing,” he said, breathing deep. “Truly amazing.”
“You like the dress?”
“Shh,” he said.
I could follow that command because the shakiness in my voice had betrayed the nervous energy swirling in my body. What I couldn’t do was suppress a gasp as his fingers climbed up my legs and dug into the flesh of my ass. He didn’t stop the upward movement of his fingers. At least, not until he reached my thong.
He hooked his fingers on the elastic and pulled the lacy fabric down over my ass, tugging them all the way below my knees. With a wink, he lowered them to the floor and helped me to step out of them.
“You won’t be needing these,” he said and balled my panties before tucking them into the pocket of his suit jacket. He spun me and slapped me on the ass. “Now, go try on the next outfit.”
I wobbled back to the dressing room, stunned by what had happened and incredibly turned on by it as well. Clara waited, fiddling with another dress.
The next dress was a melt-the-eyelids-off-a-man wonder. Dark teal lace with a halter top and three peekaboo openings up front. Clara helped me adjust the straps and zipped me into the dress with its flirty skirt. She said nothing about my lack of panties.
I took two steps out of the dressing room before Richard spun his finger in the air, ordering me back inside. Blowing out my breath, I returned with reluctance. I loved this dress. Not to worry. Clara had another waiting, an evening gown.
Runway ready, the blush-pink lace dress indulged my dreams of being a celebrity, maybe even a princess. Wearing it invoked images of walking down the red carpet. With a lace overlay, the dress featured a double-V neckline, one that plunged deep. Side slits for the legs revealed glimpses of my bare skin. It was the perfect sexy tease.
Richard allowed me to make it all the way to the raised dais and even had me do a twirl before dismissing me without a word. Back to Clara, I went, wondering what would come next.
She helped me into a sleeveless black sequined dress with black-and-gold detailing. It hugged my curves and had a short, tight skirt that came mid-thigh. Richard seemed to have more interest in this, demanding two spin
s on the raised dais and one visit to the chair. Instead of leaning forward, he reclined and took his time eyeing the dress.
Several other dresses waited, and I lost count as the evening progressed. My favorites included an all-white satin dress with a high neckline, long sleeves, and a pleated skirt. Clara put me in a baby-blue coatdress, cinched at the waist and finished with an A-line skirt. A crimson honeycomb dress with its long, flared mid-calf skirt had me imagining an evening ball of Cinderella proportions. With all the dresses, I was surprised when she had me try on a ruffled white blouse and black pants. Richard’s jaw twitched, seeing me in the form-fitting pants.
It killed me, not knowing what he liked, loved, or hated because he gave me no indication what interested him.
“Next,” he said, giving an imperious wave of his hand.
I retreated to the dressing room, wondering what dress Clara would have next. Only there were no more dresses. Instead, she had four lingerie ensembles lined up. On the shelf beside the fountain, she left a note.
He’s quite the catch. Good luck, sweetie.
Enjoy your evening,
Clara
She’d labeled the pieces with the numbers one through four, leaving me little doubt as to which outfit to model first, second, next, and last. As I gazed upon the pieces, my mouth turned dry with anticipation, and my nerves fired up, sending tingles shooting through my body.
The first piece continued with the lace theme for the evening. A cute ensemble of a triangle bralette and panties, it was more cute than sexy. The same could not be said for the red satin Teddy with the push-up cups, G-string, and barely there scraps of fabric. The third piece was a simple black corset with matching thong. I had the figure to pull it off, and it would look good, but that wasn’t what caught my breath.
The fourth outfit broke all the rules. No lace. No satin. I dared to say there wasn’t a scrap of fabric on the contraption one could barely call a thong or even a G-string. Leather and chain formed its base—leather straps beneath my breasts and another resting at my waist. Between those, a crisscross filigree accentuated my breasts, dipped between my legs, and skated down my belly. A triangle of the silver chain angled up to attach to a choker around my neck.
Clara might have labeled the order in which I wore these outfits, but she didn’t control me. This outfit embodied everything Richard desired—or what I thought he desired. And, even if my belly fluttered as I sorted through how the leather and chain lay on my body, it was time to give him something and stop fooling around.
Damn if it didn’t look positively sinful.
For many long minutes, all I could do was stare at my reflection, tracing the curves of my body and imagining more sinful things to come.
A low cough caught my attention, and I nearly tripped as I spun around.
“Rowan…”
I knew exactly what he saw.
“Richard,” I said with a trembling in my voice. “I—”
Whatever I’d been about to say disappeared beneath his reckless hunger. He yanked me against him, and that contact ignited my flesh. As I squirmed, my nerves rioted.
He cupped my face, and his voice poured out thick with arousal. “How do you feel?”
“Green,” I said, breathless with what we were about to do. I wasn’t going to run because I’d made a promise to let this happen.
His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth. With his head slanted, his fingers pulled at my hair, digging and twisting until he had a handful in his grip. He wrenched my head back and forced me up against a mirror. The cold glass had me gasping, which merely invited him to take even more.
His mouth floated over mine. “You look positively sinful.” Filled with his arousal, his words sank in, slower than they should have, especially considering the racing of my heart.
His breath disturbed the air between us. I held mine and listened to the beat of my heart, determined to follow its lead. Goose bumps spread up and down my skin from a combination of the cold glass he pressed me against and the potential igniting between us. My gut simmered, stirred by my desperation for more. But what? What should I do?
He touched a knuckle to my chin, and my skin heated under his hungry gaze. An awakening of sensual desire pulsed between my legs, moving in step with the way my heart swooned and dipped.
The dense fringes of his lashes swept across his impossibly beautiful cheeks as he admired my flesh. He was doubly graced by royal birth and impossibly good looks, and his powerful shoulders caged me in. He invaded my space until I barely knew where I stopped and he began. Raw desire pulsed between us. Then, he seized me again, fist tightening in my hair, and he parted my lips and staked his claim.
No coy nips and pecks. That wasn’t what this was about. He took me with brutal possession, and I surrendered as his tongue chased mine.
Where my lips were hesitant and unsure, his were aggressive and certain. The primitive hunger he possessed swept me away and had me whimpering, even as I clawed for more.
With his other hand palming my ass, he lifted me up, grinding against me with the hardness of his erection. I groaned as he drove his hips against me, needing him to shed the clothing that separated us.
“I want—” My voice broke, and I cleared it, embarrassed by the croaky sound.
“What do you want?” He released me and bent down until we were eye-to-eye.
Lust simmered in his eyes with something else as well. Despite the darkening of his pupils, mirth swirled in his gaze. As if his every desire had come true.
“I want you,” I said, speaking the honest truth.
How I wanted him or how I wanted him to have me were questions I would struggle through later. For now, I merely needed him to begin.
Chapter 24: Kneel
Richard
My plans to slow things down flew out of my mind with an explosion of lust upon seeing Rowan in that crisscrossing of leather and chain.
I’d picked that piece off the rack more as a tease, never expecting she’d actually put it on. I’d envisioned her storming out or maybe even lifting her brow, challenging what the hell I’d been thinking.
Well, I’d been thinking something exactly along the lines of this.
A man could dream, right?
I had her shoved against the mirror, one hand palming her ass, the other wrapped tightly in her hair. I had full control over her head, but I needed so very much more.
Where had this desire come from? Did she bring it out of me? Or had it been there all along? How had this feral need to stake my claim, and mark a woman as solely mine been silent up until now?
These kinds of thoughts simmered in the back of my mind.
Propriety kept a short leash on a prince, but desire had brought me to explore possibilities in the clubs of New York where I was somewhat insulated from the incessant paparazzi.
It’d brought me to her.
Her eyes sought mine. The arch of her brow lifted, as if she was asking what I was waiting for. She was hesitant and unsure for certain, but something else lingered in that gaze.
She wanted this, and she’d given me the green light to do as I wished.
Don’t fuck this up.
What did I want? My nerves rioted, rippling under my skin, and fired up my pulse. I had to make her mine.
I canted my head to the side, gulping breaths as a firestorm swept through me. Frustration flared because I wanted to kiss her lips and suck her peaked nipples into submission. I yearned to explore her gentle curves and lick my way to the treasure waiting between her legs. I needed to taste her essence and hear her cries as I drowned her in so much pleasure, she found herself awash in ecstasy. But I also needed to be inside her where I could feel the heat of her silken walls gripping my cock, plunging deep until there was no longer an ending to me and a beginning to her.
“Richard,” she cried out. “Please…”
I grabbed her leg and settled it over my hip, and then I lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around my hips. The press of her pus
sy against my hardness had me groaning. My muscles tensed, easily taking her weight on my large frame.
A full-body trembling overtook her, something mirrored in the thrumming of my veins. Our combined need created a vacuum of sound with only the beating of our hearts to rush into the silence.
My pants were about to burst as my pulse went ballistic. All that blood racing in my veins had only one place to go.
There was no fear about Clara interrupting us. She had packaged every dress and had them waiting at the front of her shop. I’d explained who I was, and she had no problems with leaving me to lock the doors when Rowan and I were done.
I didn’t think I’d ever be done.
Adrenaline surged through me, and my jaw ached with the tension girding my entire being. I could fuck her against the wall, but I needed more than a hasty shag.
My heart jackhammered. My cock pulsed with vitality. Breath surged in and out of my lungs. With my body on overdrive, I carried her out of the dressing room. No one could see us from the outside. I’d already checked. No need for innocent eyes or the lens of a camera to see what I had planned. My mind went to that raised dais and all the sinful things I could do. Her entire body tensed as I brought her outside the dressing room.
“Shh,” I soothed. “Clara left.”
“She what?”
I flashed my most devious smile. “Perks of being a prince. I have the keys, and we have all night.”
I lowered her to the ground, holding her until she stabilized herself. She gave a slight nod, perhaps letting me know she trusted I wouldn’t place her in a compromising position.
Her eyes betrayed the truth. Tight and terrified, her face paled. A raw, helpless feeling filled me because I didn’t want to slow down, nor did I want to stop. My insides knotted with disappointment, but she hadn’t yet told me no.
“You doing okay?” How often do I need to check in? I didn’t know, and I hadn’t read the manual. Is there a manual? There has to be. Shit, I need to focus.
She stole a backward glance to the dressing room, showing her uncertainty. My chest pinched, as I thought we would abort yet another attempt, but she turned back and pressed her finger to my chest.
The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure Page 13
