His Undercover Maid: An Instalove Possessive Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 190)

by Flora Ferrari

  “What’s your address?”

  She gives me the name of an apartment block in a busy area of the city. Not what I expected, somehow.

  “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes,” I tell her, and put the phone down, grinning in triumph.

  I reach her apartment and press the buzzer for the number she gave me. “I’ll be right down in a minute,” she says.

  “Hurry up, I’m not supposed to be parked here.”

  “Again?” Her laugh crackles over the intercom. “You really shouldn’t be driving. Are you sure you passed your test?”

  “Cheeky,” I murmur as she cuts the line. I get a sudden vivid image of bending her over my knee and spanking her. Down boy, I tell myself as I wait for her by my car. I have every intention of being a perfect gentleman tonight.

  The road to hell is paved with good intentions, of course.

  “Hey.”

  Rose steps out of the apartment, and I can’t believe my eyes. I knew she was stunning, but wow.

  Her hair is down and it falls in dark curls around her face. Her eyes are rimmed in black and some kind of smoky shadow, and they look sultry as hell, while those full lips are subtly outlined and glossed in pink, and look just perfect for closing around the end of my cock.

  As for that dress. I raise my eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “You look gorgeous,” I tell her, and she does. She’s wearing a simple white dress that stops just above her knees, yet the way it fits perfectly to her curves and highlights her hips and breasts, its positively pornographic.

  “Thank you,” she says, and I hold the car door open, having to make an effort to tear my eyes away from her.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as we pull away into the busy traffic.

  “There’s a new Turkish restaurant on the East side of Manhattan, I thought we could go there? I haven’t tried it yet.”

  She looks impressed. It’s a five-star restaurant with a prominent celebrity chef.

  “Hasn’t it got like a month long waiting list?” she asks incredulously.

  “Not for me.”

  A young Turkish waiter shows us to a discrete corner table once we reach our destination, and I glare at him as I catch him checking Rose’s legs out as he holds the chair for her to sit down.

  “If you could get us the menu rather than checking out my date, that would be really helpful,” I say drily. He looks mortified as he nods and hurries off.

  “Is that what I am?” Rose asks, her eyes suddenly unreadable. “Your date?”

  “Do you want to be?” I challenge. For a moment she hesitates, and I see anxiety in her eyes and wonder what it’s about. A bad previous relationship perhaps? Any man that could let her go is a madman.

  Then she reaches for my hand across the table, and I pick it up and lift it to my lips as she says, “Yes. Yes, I would like that very much.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Rose

  I can’t quite believe I’m here. A meal from this menu costs almost as much as a week’s rent, and the whole place is very upscale. I can spot a few celebrities and well-known socialites, and if I were here with anyone else, I would be itching to whip my iPad out and start taking notes, like a good reporter. But for once I’m not interested, the only thing holding my interest right now is Sebastian.

  I loved the way he looked at me when I walked out onto the street. As though I was the only woman in the world. I wonder what it would be like to really be his. To go to bed with him every night and wake up with him every morning.

  As his lips brush my fingers, I feel a thrill go right through me and as I watch his mouth touch my skin, I remember our kiss earlier. I feel my inner thighs tighten and a shudder of desire runs through my lower body. I want him so badly, but I’m suddenly nervous. Will he expect to go all the way tonight? Or some night soon? He is acting like a gentleman, sure, but there is no mistaking the look in his eyes or what he wants. There’s so much that I’m not telling him not only am I a reporter, but I’m also a virgin too. The kind of man I want was in short supply back home, and since moving to New York I’ve done nothing but work, work, work… but maybe it’s time for some play.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, setting my hand back down on the table and pouring me a glass of what looks like very expensive red wine.

  “How much I want you,” I blurt out. He looks surprised at my bluntness, then smiles at me over the rim of his glass.

  “I think you’ve probably noticed by now Rose, that the feeling is very much mutual.”

  The waiter comes back over and takes our order. I don’t know what half of the things on the menu are so I go for a chicken and rice dish, figuring that I can hardly go wrong with that. When it arrives, I pick at it, even though I was starving just an hour ago. Sebastian’s presence makes my tummy flutter with a hunger for so much more than food that there is little room for anything else.

  “So, how are your writing ambitions going?” he asks, and I nearly choke on my rice.

  “Um, fine, I guess,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks flame. I’m by nature an honest person, so this continued deception isn’t sitting well with me at all. Hurriedly I change the subject.

  “How about you, what made you get into the tech field?” Especially when you look more like a bodybuilder or model, I think. Although I suppose neither of those options would pay as well.

  “Lifelong interest...and the money,” he admits. “Though I never expected the exponential growth.”

  “I heard you went from a millionaire to a billionaire in under eighteen months,” I say and then wince. That was too much of a personal comment for a date, too much like something a journalist would say. He doesn’t seem to mind though.

  “That’s right. It was a combination of hard work, a good business head and moving into the right industry at the right time. And I’m a bit of a workaholic I admit, although lately...” he trails off, looking almost wistful.

  “Go on,” I prompt him.

  “Just lately, I’m starting to wonder if there isn’t more to life,” he admits, and looks at me with such an intense and oddly vulnerable expression that I feel a rush of emotion as our gazes hold.

  I’m really falling for him.

  I am so screwed.

  “Is being a billionaire CEO not making you happy?” I quip lightly, trying to detract from the tumult of emotion that I’m feeling.

  “Well, it doesn’t suck,” he laughs. “But honestly? It’s starting to get lonely.”

  “You must have people – women especially – falling all over you,” I protest. He smiles wryly.

  “Not so much now. I prefer to keep to myself. There are always hangers on when you’re rich and successful.”

  “And handsome,” I point out.

  “And handsome,” he grins without an ounce of false modesty. “But yes finding genuine, loyal people is tough...as is finding the right woman.”

  Is he saying I’m the right one?

  The way he looks at me I feel both completely euphoric and yet terrible at the same time. All he wants is loyalty, and I’m lying to him.

  Yet I know, with a rush of certainty, that even if he is about to tell me the most scandalous thing ever, there is no way now that I would ever betray him. It’s crazy, and I hardly know him, but I’m ready to throw my job out the window rather than dish the dirt on him...not that there seems to be anything to dish. I was expecting a sleazy businessman – a Mike – and instead, I've met a man I don’t just desire but also respect. Of course, this could all be a front to get me into bed but I don’t think so. I have pretty good instincts, and they’re telling me I can trust him.

  And I want him to know that he can trust me, even though if he were to find out what I really am, he would probably throw me out of this restaurant on my ass.

  I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything, but it seems to encourage him to open up, which I gather he does very rarely. I feel honored, and honestly, Adrian and the paper feel like they’re part of another life
...all that exists for me right now is this moment with Sebastian.

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t grow up rich,” he confides.

  “Oh? I sort of imagined you going to a fancy school and the like,” I admit. Sebastian laughs as though that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

  “No, definitely not. I grew up very ordinarily, we weren’t poor exactly, but we never had any extras. My mom worked all hours.”

  “Was your father not around?”

  “He passed away, he was in the Army,” he says, and although he betrays no emotion my heart breaks for him. For him to have come from such humble beginnings to where he is now is nothing short of extraordinary.

  It would also make a brilliant story, but I don’t care about that anymore. I care about him.

  “Did you not have any siblings?” I ask, thinking of my large family back home and realizing just how lonely Sebastian must have been from such a young age.

  “A sister,” he says shortly, and something in his voice makes me blink. Did she pass away too?

  “What happened to her?” I ask softly. He looks surprised and hesitates, and I’m about to apologize for asking when he shakes his head and says, “She’s disabled. Quite seriously. One of the reasons I was determined to work so hard was to get her the best care. I wanted her to live with me for as long as possible, but now my lifestyle makes it impossible, but I visit at least once a week and have her to stay when I can. It’s one of the reasons I don’t engage with the press. I don’t want them poking around in this, making some kind of story out of it. She deserves her privacy.”

  “So, do you,” I whisper, knowing that Adrian will never hear one word of this. It’s a huge scoop, the billionaire with a heart, and it could be the making of my career but I don’t want it. Maybe it’s insane when I’ve only just met him and there’s no guarantee he will even want to see me again, but I know I have no choice but to do the right thing.

  “I’ve never told anyone before,” he says, and suddenly looks wary. I stroke his hand.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” I say, and we hold each other’s eyes, until the waiter interrupts us again and the moment is broken.

  We talk for the rest of the meal, but there’s a new ease and intimacy between us now. And as the wine warms my belly and he starts to stroke my wrist and forearm as he talks, I can feel other parts of me warming up again too. I want him to kiss me again and soon.

  After our meal he walks me up to my apartment, his eyes dark with desire and hunger. My heart hammering in my chest I ask, “Want to come in.”

  Instead of waiting for his reply I jump into his arms.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sebastian

  The second her lips touch mine I feel my body catch fire. I’ve never felt such tangible need for another person. I pull Rose towards me, kissing her hungrily as she goes up on her tiptoe and moulds her body to mine. We fit together perfectly, and I wish the material between us would just disappear. I need to be inside her. To claim her as mine and mine only. I slide one hand down her back and leave it resting in the dip just before the lines of her body flare out into that gorgeous ass. When she presses her groin into mine, I take it as an invitation and slide my hand down further to cup and knead her ass. She whimpers into my mouth, and the sound of her arousal turns me on so much that I just about come in my pants right there.

  She pulls away and fumbles for her key. “I take it, that was a yes then,” she says with a breathy laugh.

  “Hell yes,” I murmur, following her inside her apartment. Coming in’ sounds like an excellent plan.

  Her apartment is small but stylish, a studio with a kitchenette at one end, bedroom and wardrobe at the other and the living space in between. It’s the bed I’m interested in, but she turns to me, looking a little awkward.

  “Err, do you want a coffee?”

  “No,” I say impatiently. “I want you. Come here.” I pick her up in one movement and she gasps out a shocked laugh as I carry her towards the bed. I sit her down and kneel between her legs, claiming her mouth again with my own. She responds with a passion that just makes me even hungrier for her.

  I kiss down her neck and across her collarbone, slipping her dress down off her shoulders and over her breasts, taking her strapless bra with it so that her glorious breasts bounce free. I take them in my hands, feeling the delicious weight of them, and then bend my head to kiss them all over, giving particular attention to her stiff rose pink nipples. She grips my hair with her hands and tips her own back, arching away from me so that her breasts are pushed towards me. I take one nipple in my mouth and roll it with my tongue, and she gasps again. I love hearing the sounds of her desire while she writhes under my touch like this, it’s such a fucking turn on. I want more. I want to hear her scream my name as she comes. I lift my head and look at her. Her eyes are dilated, and her cheeks flushed, and I smile at the evidence of the fact that she is as turned on as I am. And she’s here, in my hands, completely at my mercy, giving herself to me.

  I’m one lucky guy.

  “I want to taste you,” I tell her. She blinks in surprise and her cheeks go red at my words and I like this sudden display of shyness. I can tell this isn’t something she makes a habit of doing, bringing guys back to her apartment, and I’m glad. If I get my way – and I always do – then there will never be another man anywhere near her ever again.

  I push the other end of her dress up over her hips, revealing a nude colored thong. Simple, no frills. She doesn’t need it. I tug at her panties and she lifts her hips so that I can slide them down and off her legs as she kicks off her shoes in order to help. Then I put my hands on her inner thighs and part her legs so I can drink in the sight of her pussy.

  “Your beautiful,” I tell her sincerely. Those lush thighs and curvy hips frame her pink, wet pussy just inches from my mouth and I’ve never seen anything so inviting in my life. I can feel my cock leaking in my pants, desperate for release, but my release can wait. When I slide myself inside her I want her wet and dripping, aching from a climax that I’ve delivered.

  “Are you going to take your clothes off?” she asks, surprising me. I smile up at her. “Do you want me too?”

  “Yes,” she says and then bites her lip as if she’s embarrassed at her own request. Her tentativeness is adorable.

  I climb to my feet and, keeping my eyes firmly on hers, start to slowly strip. My blazer goes first, then my shirt. I can see the heat in her eyes as she drinks in my physique, and I like it. I have a great body, hours in the gym and a background as a basketball player have ensured that. I’m big, and strong. The sheer size of me gives me an edge in business negotiations, I know that. Other men are intimidated by me, even if on an unconscious level, and women are distracted by me. But the only woman whose opinion I care about is Roses.

  I kick off my shoes, then slowly unzip my pants and let them fall, then slide down my underwear. My cock springing to attention, all nine inches of it, and I see her eyes go wide.

  “You’re...huge,” she says.

  “And it’s all yours,” I tell her as I kneel between her legs, naked before her. Worshipping her like the goddess she is.

  I slide my hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her towards me, kissing her roughly, my tongue probing her mouth the way I want my cock to fill her pussy. I want every single inch of her body.

  Rose responds by running her own hands through my hair, moaning softly and pushing her body towards mine with abandon, showing me how much she wants this.

  I break away from her mouth and move down to her neck, biting the sensitive skin between it and her collarbone.

  “That feels so good,” she groans.

  “It will feel even better in a minute,” I whisper.

  I start to knead her breasts, rolling and tugging at her nipples until her moans come louder and faster and I can hear her need. I push her breasts together and nibble at the tips of them and she wriggles where she sits. She must be soaking wet
by now. I reach between her legs to test my theory and growl low in my throat to find her folds slick with her juices. I find her clit and start to play with it oh-so-gently while still stimulating her nipples with my mouth, and she can barely sit still.

  I can’t wait anymore either.

  I bury my face between her legs, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of her. It makes my mouth water. I have to taste her now. I pull her thighs wider apart and bend my head to her, taking a moment to admire the sight of her, spread and waiting for me.

  “Do it,” she gasps, and I oblige, taking her folds into my mouth and sucking lightly. She whimpers in response and tugs at my hair. Her juices are glistening on her thighs, and it’s taking every ounce of self control I possess not to plunge myself inside her. Take her. Own her.

  Mine.

  But I want to taste her pleasure first, I start to flick my tongue over her swollen bud, building up my rhythm slowly and steadily, finding the pace that elicits the strongest and most wanton response from her. I want her panting.

  I lose myself in the taste and smell of her as I settle into a rhythm, and part of me could stay here forever, making her gush into my mouth. She rubs herself into me, moving her hips, she’s lying back on the bed now and clenching the streets letting me know she isn’t far away from a climax.

  “Sebastian,” she sobs in sheer pleasure as she comes, bucking her hips and arching her back as her hand tightens in my hair, so tightly it makes my scalp sting, but I’m not complaining. I feel her thighs shuddering as the waves of her orgasm crash over her, and I smile to myself at a job well done.

  She’s mine now.

  When the shudders stop, I lick my lips and sit back on my haunches to look at her. Her eyes are dreamy and half dazed.

  “That was incredible,” she whispers, reaching up with a lazy hand to stroke my cheek. I catch her wrist and nibble on her palm.

  “My turn,” I growl, taking her hand and placing it on my cock, which is so hard it’s aching.

  Then I see hesitation in her eyes, and feel the stiffness in her hand. I drop her hand and pull away. Have I pressured her? The way she responded so wantonly...was I wrong in thinking she wanted this as badly as I do?