Sweet Promise

by Emily Jane Trent

  Vivienne proceeded to pull the pearls around his cock, teasing and taunting. Jacob’s breathing was heavy and pre-cum seeped from the top of his thick knob. She smeared it with her finger, then looped the pearls around the base of his cock and tightened them.

  “Jesus…Vivienne.”

  Jacob’s gasp excited her, and while stimulating him with the pearls, Vivienne took his knob in her mouth. He tasted musky and masculine, making her whimper. The tension from the pearls, coupled with the suction from her wet mouth, sent Jacob over the edge.

  His masculine groan echoed against the walls as he exploded in her mouth. Vivienne sucked voraciously, drinking down his cum. And when Jacob sagged from his release, she unwound the delicate pearls.

  Jacob pulled her up and carried her to the bed. He dropped her onto the soft mattress, then grasped her wrists to pin her hands above her head. Vivienne’s heart pounded, and she licked her lips.

  The feel of his mouth on her nipples had her blood simmering. Vivienne softly panted between moans. Jacob held her arms above her head, while biting and tugging at her distended nipples. The sharp little pains pushed her close to the edge.

  When Jacob released her, Vivienne slid off the bed and kneeled between his legs. With her palms on his thighs, she kissed all over his stomach and then along his growing erection. Jacob lifted her chin with two fingers and looked into her eyes. His steely gaze melted her. “I have something in mind for you,” he said.

  Jacob went to his suitcase and retrieved a set of door-jam cuffs. Vivienne’s pulse raced. “Stand up,” he said, and she instantly complied.

  At the bathroom, Jacob secured the apparatus to the top of the doorway frame. The two fur-lined cuffs dangled down for her to reach. He removed the string of pearls from her neck, making her skin tingle with need. Then he turned her to face toward the bathroom.

  “Lift your arms, Vivienne.”

  When she did so, Jacob secured her wrists into the cuffs. Her hands were over her head, and naked, she was completely vulnerable.

  “Now, let’s see what I can find that will serve my purpose.” Jacob walked away, leaving her to wonder what he was looking for.

  From a distance away, Vivienne heard him rustle through the drawers in the kitchen. Utensils clattered against one another, and her tension mounted. “Ah, this will work,” Jacob said. When he returned he showed her a long-handled wooden spoon, and there was no question about what he had in mind.

  “Spread your legs, Vivienne, so your feet are pressed against the sides of the doorway.” She did so, feeling very exposed. With her arms secured above her head, Vivienne’s breasts arched out, and with her feet wide apart, her sex was open to Jacob.

  “Bend over a little, and stick your butt out.”

  Jacob’s command thrilled her, and she did as he asked. The wooden spoon touched her bare skin. “I’m going to like this,” Jacob said, “and I think you will too.”

  The first whack was just to acclimate her to the feel, yet her arousal escalated. The next was a bit harder. Jacob proceeded to spank her bare ass with the wooden spoon, striking with varying strengths.

  The sharp whap of the spoon stung, and each blow made her nipples harder, her clit tighter. Vivienne thought she might come if he kept it up. And he did. Jacob spanked her, clearly enjoying it, and she teetered on the precipice of orgasm.

  Then Jacob changed the pace; he didn’t strike for a moment, and then he did. Vivienne couldn’t predict the blows. It stirred a delicious anxiety inside her, making the sexual stimulation greater. When he spanked her again, Vivienne trembled.

  “That’s right, Vivienne. Let it go.”

  So she did. To the whap, whap on her ass, Vivienne was swept into a tantalizing release. She stiffened and shuddered, letting the waves wash through her. Then she sighed, and Jacob stepped in front of her.

  The spoon was no longer in his hand. Jacob took the liberty of looking at her, admiring her post-orgasmic glow. “You are beautiful,” he said. “Your skin is flushed, and your eyes glisten.” He reached out and pinched her nipples.

  Jacob’s stern look stirred Vivienne’s arousal, despite the orgasm he’d just allowed. “I’m not finished with you,” he said, so close to her that his breath grazed her cheek.

  Falling to his knees, Jacob put his palms on her vulva. Then he pressed his lips to her sex. Vivienne felt a twinge deep in her core. “Oh, God.” Jacob ignored her gasp and licked along her wet opening. Sensation shot through her like electric sparks.

  Expertly, Jacob licked her pussy and swirled his tongue around her clit. It felt so damn good, and it wasn’t long before Vivienne longed for another release. When Jacob dipped two fingers inside her and sucked on her clit, she whined through her rapid panting.

  But Jacob didn’t slow or stop. He sucked just right, intermittently swirling the tip of his tongue around her most sensitive area. “Jacob…I…” But that was as much as she said. With his hot mouth on her, and his hands firmly holding her by the hips, Jacob sucked vigorously until she came unglued.

  Vivienne cried out and exploded into climax. Intense waves of pleasure consumed her, and Jacob’s hot mouth on her pussy was the center of her world. The feeling was ecstasy, and her climax was long. When she slumped, dangling from the cuffs, Jacob undid them and lifted her into his arms.

  With her legs wrapped around Jacob’s waist and his forearms under her thighs to support her, Vivienne clung to him. His heat seared her skin, and she pushed up using his shoulders as leverage so he could slide his cock into her wet pussy.

  Jacob groaned as he plunged deep, and Vivienne tightened her legs around his waist. He took two steps forward, so her back was against the wall, then he fucked her hard. The punishing strokes excited her, pushing Vivienne to a new plateau of arousal.

  Vivienne threw her head back, and Jacob kissed her neck wildly, nipping at her skin. His loud panting drowned out hers, as he fucked her relentlessly. Her heels pressed against his firm ass as he took her, consuming her with desire.

  A sheen of sweat on his brow and his cock hard as a rock, Jacob looked into her eyes. Through heavy breathing, he gasped, “I love you, baby.”

  Vivienne loved him so much that she couldn’t speak, and could barely breathe. She whined, the shrill sound reverberating against the marble surfaces in the bathroom. Jacob fucked faster, their bodies merging as one.

  Then Vivienne shattered in his arms, and he released inside her. The violent waves of orgasm shook her body, and she felt Jacob shudder against her. Together they gave in to the impossible pleasures, their hearts open, and their souls united.

  When they calmed, Jacob carried her to the bed, where they collapsed against each other. Vivienne draped her arm across his chest, listening to the pound of his heart. “I love you,” she whispered. “So very much.” More than she could say. Vivienne was sure that Jacob knew, because the intimacy they shared conveyed the depth of emotion in a way that words could not.

  Chapter 3

  Late on Sunday, they returned to the city. The weekend away hadn’t been long enough to suit Jacob, but it was time to face whatever lay ahead. In bed that night, he tossed and turned, racking his brain for a solution that eluded him.

  The next morning, he went for a long jog, but enlightenment didn’t occur then either. Jacob made it through the day at Rinaldi, but his frustration continued to mount. It wasn’t in his nature to be passive, so waiting for the investigation results had him on edge.

  Jacob had lost patience, and was fed up with being a pawn in the game. He was pissed that his enemies interfered with his life and that Vivienne had to deal with it too. Not knowing what the hell was going on killed him.

  He needed to take action, so he did.

  On the way home in the car, Jacob decided on his next move and texted his investigator. I need Daniel Kenyon’s home address right away.

  The reply with the address came in less than a minute. It was another piece of the puzzle. Jacob pondered how a man in Kenyon’s position could
afford to live in that neighborhood. Sam Williamson was his stepfather, but not the kind of man to throw money away.

  At the penthouse, Jacob shed his business attire and got comfortable. Vivienne arrived soon after, but he didn’t share his plan. It might alarm her, and there was no need for that. Afterward, if it went well, he could tell her all about it.

  After another night of restless sleep, Jacob went for a jog. This time he made it quick, so he could leave the penthouse earlier than usual. He could have made an appointment with Kenyon, but that would have given the man an advantage. Then he would know Jacob was coming to see him, and prepare. This way Jacob could catch him off guard.

  Very early in the morning would be best. Jacob would show up before he left for the day, at a time and place of his choosing. When Vivienne came out from the shower, he gave her a kiss. “I’m on my way.”

  “This is so early,” Vivienne said, drying her hair with a towel. “What’s up?”

  “I’ll explain later.” Jacob headed for the door, but before he went out Vivienne started to catch on.

  “Where are you going, Jacob?” The furrow in her brow showed her concern.

  “It will be fine, baby. There’s just something I need to do.” Then he left before she could ask more questions.

  Jacob had texted Ian, so the driver was waiting with the car warmed up. They headed toward Kenyon’s residence. It was a short drive, less than thirty minutes, but Jacob was keyed up. He wanted to get there already, and hoped he hadn’t missed the window of opportunity.

  Kenyon’s place was in SoHo, known for fancy shops and trendy coffee shops. It was also home to the most expensive residential real estate in New York City. Many of the apartments had been converted from nineteenth-century warehouses, giving the neighborhood a unique appeal.

  The warehouse-converted loft apartments attracted celebrities, and some of the older, larger structures had been turned into oversized penthouses. It was in one such penthouse that Kenyon resided. That fact was notable, as the place had to be expensive.

  Jacob knew that some condos in historic buildings had sold for as much as twenty-eight million. And other developments had extravagant amenities, with prices to match. Even the less expensive places fetched close to three million. So the foremost question in Jacob’s mind was: Where did Kenyon get the money?

  Ian waited with the car while Jacob went up. He’d asked Walsh to work some magic to get him inside, and apparently he had done so. The doorman was cordial, and found Jacob’s name in the computer as an authorized guest. He waved toward the elevator up to the penthouses.

  “Shall I call Mr. Kenyon to let him know you’re on the way up?”

  “No, don’t,” Jacob said, with a charming smile. “I think he’ll appreciate the surprise.”

  At the residence, Jacob buzzed and waited for a response. It wasn’t long before he was observed through the peephole. The door opened, and Daniel Kenyon glared at him. The man just looked like an asshole, even before he spoke.

  Daniel Kenyon had bushy, unruly brows, and close-set blue eyes. His mustache and beard were trimmed very short, but the hair was patchy, adding to his unattractiveness. His perpetual angry countenance was unfriendly, as was his sharp gaze. The man’s eyes reflected his vengeful nature; there was a perpetual glare in his expression.

  Politeness wasn’t called for, so Jacob went inside without being asked, stepping past the man. “Good morning, Daniel.”

  “It was until you showed up.”

  “Ah, friendly as always.” Jacob studied the man, unable to hide his disdain. He wore a black polo shirt with black jeans, a choice of outfit that seemed apropos. He watched Daniel walk across the room, exuding arrogance with every step. Jacob looked out the oversized windows at the panoramic views of the tall buildings of Greenwich Village.

  The open ceiling, a remnant of the former warehouse, was painted white, and one wall was red brick. The carpet over the parquet floor was expensive gray wool with a modern design, and matched the cream and gray sofas with abundant pillows. It struck Jacob that Kenyon didn’t belong here. He seemed so out of place in the refined setting.

  Reaching the limit of the space, Daniel turned to face him, with the stunning view out the windows as a backdrop. It was just another way to flaunt his status, and the wealth he didn’t deserve. Jacob wondered what slimy scheme had delivered millions into the man’s bank account.

  “I’d offer you something to drink, but I know this isn’t a social visit,” Kenyon said.

  “You’re right about that.” Jacob stood in the middle of the room, comfortable with the opulence, but not with the attitude of the man who claimed to own it.

  “I assume you’re here because Carl came to see you?”

  Jacob sat on the plush sofa and crossed one ankle over the opposite thigh. He wasn’t going to be bullied, so he took his time answering. “It’s clear that you sent him.”

  Kenyon’s self-assured attitude didn’t waver, which ticked Jacob off. “My question for you is why?”

  “I should think you’d have figured that out by now,” Kenyon said. He shook his head, and the mocking gesture made Jacob’s blood boil. “Your father will make your secrets publicly known, unless you cooperate.”

  Kenyon was using his own father against him. Jacob had known that, but hearing it from the man’s lips was worse. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

  “I’d watch what I say, Jacob. You’re pointing the finger at the wrong person.” Still bold, Kenyon moved closer. “You tried to kill your father, in case your memory fails you.”

  “You are guilty of much worse things than I.” That had been what Daniel Kenyon had said at the association meeting. Now Jacob knew what he’d meant. “How did you even know about that?”

  Kenyon’s evil chuckle grated Jacob’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out, to put things together.” He paused. “Your sizable donations to child abuse causes intrigued me.”

  Pacing the floor, Kenyon continued, “I tracked it down, and it wasn’t surprising that your interest in protecting children was sourced with your personal history of abuse.”

  It was disgusting to hear details of his past recited by Kenyon.

  “Not only did you try to murder your father, but you did so…repeatedly.” Kenyon smirked. “Then, to add insult to injury, you abandoned him when he was down. He’d lost his wife, been attacked by his own son, and you saw fit to leave him.”

  Jacob was aghast. It wasn’t that his misdeeds had been flung in his face. Attempted murder was discreditable, no matter the circumstances. But the idea that Carl had reversed roles, taking on the place of victim instead of perpetrator, made him want to throw up.

  “I left him?” Jacob said, incredulously. “Carl Hahn neglected and ultimately abandoned me, before I had reached the ripe age of eight.” His voice grew louder. “My father was drunk out of his mind, most of the time, and utterly irresponsible.”

  “That’s how you tell it,” Kenyon said. “Of course Carl continued drinking. His dear wife Flora died, and his only son disowned him. He was thrust into poverty, where you’ve seen fit to leave him.”

  “He blames me…for his condition?”

  “Shouldn’t he?” Kenyon said. “From what he told me, you were an unruly boy, always making trouble.” He looked directly at Jacob. “From what I can see, not much has changed.”

  Furious, Jacob stood up. “So let me see if I have this straight. You went to great lengths to find my derelict father, solely because you want him to discredit me? Or, just as unbelievable, that he’s back to claim the son that was unfairly taken from him?”

  The venom that Kenyon had hidden behind carefully chosen words now spewed forth. “It’s not right that the son of a drunk should rise to such a high position in life!”

  The accusation hung in the air between them.

  Kenyon was shouting now. “You are the problem, Jacob. You are all that stands in my way. With you out of action
, I will achieve the success I should have had all along!”

  And there it was…the asshole’s motive.

  “And you think I’ll just do whatever you ask?” Jacob said.

  Kenyon’s face reddened with anger, and he pointed a finger at Jacob. “Oh you will, my friend. Or the people you care about will suffer, starting with Vivienne.”

  Hearing her name said with such vengeance turned Jacob’s stomach. Why was it that the assholes in life used innocent women as leverage, or worse, abused those women whenever they had the urge?

  Determination rose within Jacob like steel, fueled and strengthened by his rage. He stood in front of Kenyon, his eyes boring into the man. A flicker of doubt showed in the idiot’s expression. “You picked the wrong man to attack, Kenyon. You know my history. You know what I’m capable of. I suggest you consider that before you take this further.”

  Jacob spun around and strode across the room. He yanked the door open and headed for the elevator. The button lit up, but the door didn’t open right away. He slammed his fist into the wall. “Fuck. Fuck.”

  Once in the lobby, Jacob went straight to the exit, ignoring the doorman. Still fuming, he got in the back seat of the car. Ian pulled away from the curb, heading toward Rinaldi Imports, while Jacob thought about what had just taken place.

  After a few minutes, Jacob’s heart stopped pounding in his ears, and his muscles relaxed. He took the opportunity to reconcile the facts. It made sense why Kenyon had continued to needle him, waiting to make his full-on attack.

  Kenyon had deferred action until he had located Carl Hahn. After learning that Jacob had tried to kill him, Kenyon had teamed up, intending to use that information to motivate Jacob to do their bidding. That was why the man had held off until now.

  One thing was more evident than before. Kenyon’s plot was more intricate than Jacob had once thought. It was clear that the man would take extreme measures to ruin the Rinaldis, and Jacob in particular.

  Jacob was responsible for bringing this shame on his family. His past was back to haunt him, and rip apart the reputation of the Rinaldis, at any cost. It occurred to him that he should leave, turn the company over to Vico, and take all the trouble with him.