to his lips and sucks them clean. “Delicious.”
Gently cupping my face, the man touches my lips with his own, briefly, and
whispers, “Are you sure?”
I nod my head in answer, unable to actually give voice to the desire. The desire I do not want to, should not have.
The man releases his hold on me and steps back. Crossing his arms over his
chest, he asks, “Why?”
“What?” I look up into his face, blinking in sudden confusion.
“Why do you want me to fuck you?”
“Because.”
“Because isn’t an answer, Princess,” he says in a low, demanding tone.
Unable to meet his eyes, I quietly say, “I thought you wanted … ”
“Stop right there,” he interrupts, stepping forward and putting one arm around my body. “I do.”
With his other hand, he grabs my hand and tucks it underneath his towel, wrapping it around his cock. “Feel how hard you make my cock. It didn’t get that way from anyone else but you, Princess. I’ve wanted to fuck you since you walked into the room downstairs.”
“Oh,” I say, unable to stop myself from squeezing him in my hand and stroking his smooth hardness once before realizing what I have done and quickly letting go.
“But I want to know what’s persuaded you that us fucking is a good idea.”
The man cups my face in his hands and gently strokes my cheek with his thumb.
“I don’t want you to ever regret it.”
I can’t help but melt into him. This man keeps displaying the confusing, perfect, combination of tenderness and possession.
“Because I want you too,” I growl, beginning to get annoyed. Why won’t he
just take what he’s wanted all night?
“Why?”
Pulling back, I look up into his face. His expression, a mix of amusement
and sternness has me stamping my foot petulantly. Why won’t he just fucking fuck me already? He clearly wants to. And I’ve made it clear I won’t be fighting him.
“Behave. Don’t pout,” he rebukes. “I don’t usually throw women over my lap and spank them until they tell me what I want to know, but I’m beginning to see the appeal.”
“You don’t?”
“No. There are much nicer ways for me to get the information I want out of
you, Princess,” he says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me back toward him.
Fisting the hair at the back of my head, he leans in and kisses me with surprising gentleness. It does not last long, and soon he’s thrusting his tongue into my mouth and stealing my breath. I can do nothing but cling to his waist and enjoy the ride.
The hand not tangled in my hair moves up my body and takes hold of my breast. The towel rubs against my skin, making my nipples react and my body thrum with tormented pleasure.
“Sir,” I moan, wanting, needing, him to bring me over the edge once again.
Abruptly he stops the exquisite pleasure and stares down at me with his eyebrow quirked, demanding me to speak.
“Please, sir.” I run my hands up his chest, shamelessly imploring him to continue. I should be disgusted with myself. But at this moment I don’t fucking care. “Don’t stop.”
“Are you going to tell me why I should fuck your sweet, tight, virgin cunt?”
he whispers, nipping at the shell of my ear and squeezing my breast—reminding my body what it wants.
“Because.” I find myself raking my fingertips through his dark, surprisingly
soft chest hair. The man doesn’t say a word or move as he waits for me to continue. “Because you won’t hurt me. And you’ll make sure I enjoy it.”
I briefly wonder if he has ever done this to one of his competitors, seduced
them with pleasure so they will give up all their secrets. Maybe not always sexually, but a nice bottle of whiskey, a trip to an expensive brothel, and he has
them spewing all their company’s inside information.
“That’s all I wanted to know.” He releases his hold on me all together and opens the bathroom door, motioning me to walk through.
