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«Copyright © 2014 J. Kenner The right of J. Kenner to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the ...»

-- [ Page 27 ] --

“Katrina.” “I’m just playing by your rules,” I said. “I seem to recall you were very insistent on getting that point across to me in the ladies’ room of The Drake. Or was I mistaken?” He shook his head, obviously amused, then took the key from my hand. “Not mistaken.” “Good.” He opened the door for me, then followed me over the threshold. As soon as the door closed behind him, I eased up against him and started to unbutton the pale blue shirt he’d paired with faded jeans. “The truth is, I’m really hoping that being a good girl is going to be even more rewarding than being punished was.” I lifted myself up on my tiptoes and nipped at his earlobe. “Otherwise, why not just be bad?” “You raise a good point,” he said, tucking his finger under my chin to lift my mouth up for a kiss. “And I do like to punish you....” “I can be bad,” I said, cupping my hand over his already hard cock. “And we have a nice long night in a gorgeous hotel ahead of us with nothing else to do but for you to punish me for being naughty.” “Or reward you for being nice.” “Or both,” I said, then squeezed his cock and made him groan.

“Stay there,” he said, leaving me standing just a few feet from the door. We had a regular room, not a suite, and I liked the fact that it was small and intimate, with little more than a bed and a desk and a chair.

It was as if the room was stripping away all other possibilities, leaving nothing else for us to do except take off our clothes and enjoy each other. That was fine by me.

The way Cole had bolted in Chicago had left me feeling edgy. I’d recovered a bit on the plane and even more with Nikki and Damien. But I wasn’t going to feel completely right—I wasn’t going to feel completely his —until I’d spent hours in his arms. Until he’d claimed me again and again. Until he’d taken me every way imaginable and then some.

And until he stayed with me afterward.

Now he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. I remained still, knowing that was part of the game, but wanting badly to move because my legs were starting to cramp. Just when I thought I could take it no more, he said a single word. “Strip.” I didn’t speak. I didn’t smile. I did nothing, in fact, except take four long strides toward him, bringing me all the way into the room and putting me right in front of him.

I’d had no time to change before racing to the plane, and that meant I also had no luggage. Fortunately, I’d known from my repeated viewings of Pretty Woman that it was easy to solve a wardrobe crisis on Rodeo Drive—at least, it was if you had money. Now I wore a stunning Dior wrap-style dress in pale blue. And since Cole had paid for it—all the way down to the lace panties and push-up bra—I figured he was entitled to watch it come off.

I untied the sash, then unwrapped the dress until it hung on me like a robe, revealing the bra, very tiny panties, and stunning blue stilettos.

“You like?” “I think I like this view even better. Maybe this is how you should wear the dress from now on.” “Okay,” I said, teasing.

“But let’s see if we can manage an improvement.” I slowly slid my hand down my stomach until my fingers disappeared under the lace band of the panties. I was wet and hot and I arched back a bit as I stroked myself, my fingers sliding over my bare skin and teasing my clit enough to send tingles of sensation running all through me.

I kept my eyes open, locked on his, and when I heard his low, guttural moan, I knew that I’d just won a round in whatever game we were playing at the moment.

I withdrew my hand, then sucked on my finger. I was rewarded with another groan and a soft, “You’re killing me, Kat,” which made me laugh.

In one fluid motion, I pulled the dress the rest of the way off, then let it fall to the floor. Then I unclasped the bra and tossed it casually aside. Next came the panties, until I stood in front of him, completely naked except for the fuck-me heels.

I moved closer, then simply stood there, mere inches from him. “If we were at Destiny, there’d be a notouching policy.” “Good thing we’re not,” he said, then reached out to run his fingers lightly over me. Up and down my arms, over my thighs, lightly along my breasts. The caresses were gentle, almost casual, but the sensations he stirred in me were anything but.

I’d been standing with my legs together, but his touch had sent such a flurry of sensation through me that my body was now throbbing for release. I shifted, spreading my legs a bit, then I leaned in and put one hand on his shoulder, both for balance and to bring me closer to his ear. “I’m so close,” I whispered. “Make me come.” I leaned back enough to see his face and the heat reflected there. I saw the way a muscle in his cheek twitched as he fought for control. And I heard that single, unexpected word —“No.” I lifted a brow, frustrated both by the tension in my body and the amusement I saw in his eyes.





“Fine,” I said, then moved my own fingers to my sex, because this was a problem I could take care of on my own.

“No,” he said. “My rules tonight. You don’t come until I tell you to. And you do what I tell you to.” I lifted a brow. “Sir. Yes, sir.” He smirked, then glanced at the floor. “I think I’d like to see you on your knees.

And I know I’d like to see your lips around my cock.” I forced myself not to reveal anything when I looked at him. This was full circle, right back to where we’d been before when he’d bolted from my house, and I couldn’t deny that I was nervous.

But the bottom line was that I wanted this night—not drama or regrets—and I knew that Cole wanted it, too. I might be a little nervous, but I trusted him. More than that, I knew better than to disobey.

I dropped down to kneel in front of him. I put my hands on his knees, then gently eased his legs apart and moved closer until I felt the press of the mattress against my lower body.

I hesitated, expecting him to unfasten his jeans and tug down his fly. But all he did was lean back, putting his hands slightly behind him for support. He looked at me, and for a moment the only thing I felt was the heat that seemed to shimmer in the air between us.

Then he broke the connection by tilting his head back and drawing in a long breath.

I got the message. This was for me to do—to free him, to suck him, to take him all the way.

I had the control—except I didn’t. Because right then I was doing Cole’s bidding. I was the girl on her knees and we both knew it.

And damned if I didn’t like it. Because he was right —there was power here.

Power and submission. That duality excited me. And what excited me even more was that it had been Cole who’d seen that side of me. Who’d so clearly seen all of me.

Slowly, I tugged his zipper down, then freed his cock. I traced a fingertip lightly along the length of him, then closed my hand around the base, stroking him slowly up and down, my own body growing hotter and tighter as I felt his erection grow under my touch. I wanted to drive him crazy— to make him go wild. I wanted to take us both to the edge and then leap into the chasm with him.

I wanted the man. And I wanted everything that came with him.

I drew in a breath, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. I tilted my head back a bit, wanting to meet his eyes. But his were closed, and the expression of pure pleasure that colored his face gave me such a rush of feminine power that one touch to my clit would have sent me tumbling over the edge.

I used my tongue to tease the head of his cock, lightly stroking his glans, then using the tip to circle the head in a way that all those intimate magazine articles swore would drive your man crazy.

If his deep, guttural groan was any indication, those articles were dead-on perfect.

He shifted his weight, using only one hand to support his body as he leaned back. With his other, he threaded his fingers through my hair. I tensed, then forced myself to relax. I wanted this.

And even more I wanted Cole to know how much I wanted to give him pleasure— however he deemed to take it.

With the pressure of his hand to the back of my head, I took his cock deep, then drew back, sucking and licking, my head bobbing in time with the sound of his breathing and with the rhythm of his hand upon me.

He was hard and tight and so damn close, and with each thrust of his hand to my head he made me take him deeper, harder, until I was certain that he would come right then, right there, and I really wasn’t sure that I could handle the force of his explosion, but god help me I wanted to try.

But then he stopped, pulling my mouth off him, then scooting back onto the bed.

I looked up, afraid that he’d once again feared injuring me. But it wasn’t worry or fear or anger I saw in his eyes. It was bold, hot, blatant need.

“On the bed,” he said, his voice raw and edgy. “On the bed and on your knees.” I complied, not sure what he had in mind, but willing to go wherever he wanted. I was so wet I could feel my arousal between my thighs, and even the brush of air between my legs made sparks shiver through me.

I did as he asked and got on the bed on my knees with my legs slightly spread. My upper arms rested on the bed so that my back was flat, like a table. My breasts felt thick and heavy, and I desperately wanted to touch myself. To stroke my nipples. To lift a hand and slide it back between my legs. To feel how wet I was and know that it was Cole who’d brought me to such heights of arousal and pleasure.

The bed shifted as he stood, and I turned my head to see him looking at me.

“This is the picture I keep in my head,” he said. “You on your knees, open and ready and desperate for me.” “Yes,” I murmured.

“Do you remember the first time you were like this?

My house. You’d stormed in all wildness and bluster.” “Of course I remember.” “I’m amazed I’ve had any other thought in my head since the first moment I touched you. You fill me up, Kat, and I can’t stand the thought that you’re not yet mine completely.” “But I am.” “You’re not,” he said.

“But you will be. Do you trust me, baby?” “You know I do.” “Good. Because I’m going to fuck you hard tonight. I’m going to claim you. I’m not going to leave even the slightest doubt in your mind that you belong to me.” He leaned over me, stroking his hands along my bare back, and that touch ricocheted through me, making me feel connected. Complete. And very much alive.

Somehow he’d stripped his jeans and briefs all the way off, and his erection pressed hard against me, the tip teasing my sex as he thrust just slightly into me. Just enough to make me gasp and want. Then the bed shifted as he got on to kneel behind me and I felt the press of his cock at my ass, hard and insistent and just a little terrifying.

I must have sucked in air, because he shifted away, and I heard myself moan with disappointment.

“My girl wants me to take her there,” he said, reading me perfectly.

“Yes,” I said, voicing a desire I hadn’t fully understood.

“Good,” he said, then bent to whisper in my ear. “So do I.” Three simple words, and yet the heat from them spread through me, making me even needier than I already was.

“Stay,” he said, then left the bed for a moment before coming back with the padded envelope that had been delivered with my closing documents. He’d come around the bed so that he faced me now, and with a little bit of a flourish, he ripped open the envelope, then reached in and pulled out something that looked like a small vibrator, only more conical and with a flange on top.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, setting it on the bed in front of me.

I nodded.

His brows rose. “Really?

Tell me.” “It’s a butt plug,” I said, shooting for a matter-of-fact tone but failing miserably. “I already told you I’m not innocent.” He laughed. “So you did.

But have you ever used one?” He moved beside me, then trailed his fingers softly down my back and over the swell of my ass. “Has anything ever penetrated this sweet, tight ass?” Gently, he spread my butt cheeks, then pressed his fingertip to the rim of my anus.

I sucked in air, surprised by the shock of the contact and the jolt of pleasure that seemed to shoot through me, like a preamble of things to come. “No,” I said. “I told you. Never. No one.

Nothing.” “Exactly what I wanted to hear.” He reached around me for the bag, then pulled out a small bottle of lube. He flipped the lid, put some on his fingertip, and then slowly stroked the sensitive skin between my ass and my vagina, each tender movement making the storm that was building inside me rage wilder until I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it.

“Cole.” I ground out his name. “Please.” “Please what?” “I—you know.” “Please this?” he asked, then slowly inserted his welllubed fingertip into my rear.



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