Book Read Free

Nemesis (Enemies-to-lovers Standalone)

Page 26

by Maya Rose


  She lives with me. Watches me, waits on me, tenses at a single indifferent or cross look I give her, and sparkles giddily when I focus on or lech at her. I cause and govern every look on her face, all the fucking time. And maybe someday, I won’t. Maybe someday she’ll wake up and realize I’m not the last man on earth. But until that happens, I’m holding on to her, and I’m finding oblivion in her soulful brown eyes as they change shades a thousand times a day.

  When neither of us talk, she slips her hands under my blazer and around my waist, her fists gripping my T-shirt at my back, her bare tits against my chest resurrecting my erection in record time. Heaving up on her heels, she nuzzles her lips under my jaw, trailing up to kiss my earlobe and then gently suck on it.

  Jesus. Can I just kidnap her from this freak production, take her home and fuck her to kingdom come? I shouldn’t. I’m the sensible one here. So I cup her neck and pry her lips away, even as my dick threatens to cut off blood supply to the rest of my body. “We should get back to the party.”

  “We should get a room.” She breathes unevenly, impatience shining in her lusted out gaze, and her hand coasts lower on my back, lower, until she’s squeezing my ass. She had a finger up there five minutes ago. Her finger. In my ass. Teasing my prostate.

  And sweet motherfucking fuck, she swallowed me whole without gagging--is she just naturally good at everything?

  Warren’s right outside. Everyone you work with is right outside. “Princess, an hour more, tops. Then I’m taking you home.”

  My hands cover hers on my ass so I can remove them. She lets me, but folds her leg around mine, locking her knee in place. Then she leans back, exactly far enough so I can see her hard pinkish brown nipples. “I don’t want to wait an hour. I need you now. You gonna make me beg, Mr King?”

  Need. She needs me. And beg. She’s going to beg me. Fuck, this is a losing battle. I still valiantly resist. “We can’t just disappear for the rest of the evening. People will talk--they saw us leave.”

  “You care about that more than being inside me?”

  I don’t, the truth drops like a bomb. Right this moment, I don’t care about anything more than her. How the hell do I not? But maybe that’s immaterial. Maybe I don’t have to exhaust and burn my gut, wondering how this happened, what happens now, and for how long it stays this way. Maybe I just give up trying to figure out and analyze how the hell I feel so infinitely vulnerable but intoxicatingly potent when I’m around her. And maybe I can stop obsessing over what I should say and what I shouldn’t. How I should act and how I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just do what I want and say what I want. Just be myself. Not worry about right or wrong. Because this girl--she won’t go easy on me. She’ll bust my balls when I deserve it, and show me that dimple when I’ve won it, and it’ll be as simple as that. She’ll be sincere to a fault, and expect it in return. The hotels. Her. Maybe I don’t have to choose. Maybe there are no tangles. Maybe I can have it all.

  I nip us apart, and fix her dress in ten seconds flat. Then my clothes.

  “Eli...” Her wounded voice starts.

  But I pluck her hand, lacing our fingers and hauling her from the door. I open it, and no one’s lurking outside. So I guide us both to the other end of the hallway with the service elevator. It opens immediately when I press the button, and I pull her inside when I see that it’s empty.

  Her eyes on me are hopeful and fearful, her lips in a sexy bunched up pout as the doors close on us. “Eli, what are you--”

  “I wasn’t feeling well and Eli took me to his exec room to rest. He stayed with me in case we needed a doctor and we didn’t want to worry or alarm anyone.” I tell her, swiping my card and hitting the button for the 20th floor. “Think you can remember that verbatim?”

  “What...what are you talking about?”

  “Getting our story straight for when Warren asks us later why we were missing for the rest of the evening.” I answer, switching my phone off before slipping it back in my pocket.

  Her lips curve, and they’re trying not to, as she gets my drift. “We’re going to be missing for the rest of the evening?” She asks, white teeth playing alluringly with her red bottom lip.

  “If he follows up—you were tired.” I breathe in the fascination in her gaze on me. Then I add, pulling at the lip, “Let it go.” I smooth a thumb over it when it’s free, and she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opens them, I almost step back from the craving in her eyes. What did I do to deserve this?

  “Eli...” Her voice is tentative, eyes diffident and petitioning.

  She’s scared. Of course she is, jagoff, it’s her first time. I know it. I know I have to go slow. But if she keeps looking at me like that, I’m going to stuff her deep and rough. Every hole. All fucking night. Fuck. How do I go slow? “Yeah?”

  “Promise me you won’t be gentle.”

  Christ. Run. Run now, King. But I can’t. She has me fucking hooked. This is happening. I’m taking what’s mine. The elevator dings open, and I draw her out, pace and lust kindling at an alarming rate all the way to the door of my room. My pulse roars when we’re inside, then jerks unnaturally at the sight of her looking around the luxury studio suite with a city view.

  I hold my breath when she frees her hand from mine and walks inside from the doorway towards the large King bed. “What is this room?” She asks, checking out the colored glass screen separating the seating and sleeping areas, ducking her head but not leaving the area of the bed.

  “A lot of meetings and conferences are hosted at the Walton Plaza. All the senior execs have access to a room each just in case they need to crash or rest and not drive home after a long day.” I answer.

  She turns to face me. “And this one is always your room?”

  I’m hoping to fuck she doesn’t get where I think she’s going to get. “Yes.”

  “You’ve brought other women here?”

  Yup, she got there. “Ariel, it’s cleaned daily. I even have them replace the mattress every time I...use it.” And I mostly fuck them from behind on the couch, so the bedding is hardly ever used. Shit. I brace myself for an offended expression. For it to all end. I deserve it. Because I’m the idiot that brought this remarkable girl to a lousy, used hotel room for her first time.

  But her eyes on me stay neutral, as she goes to the end of the bed facing the plasma TV, then sits and starts unstrapping her heels. “What do you do with these women when the sex part is done?”

  Honest. Be honest, even if she stops this and it kills you. “The usual checkout time is eleven am. They can stay until then. Order breakfast in if they want.”

  “With you?

  “No, I leave after...right after.”

  With her toes, she slides her heels away from the foot of the bed to the wall. Then she starts trailing the zip of her dress down at its side. Gets up when it’s down to her waist, so she can pull the dress down, and I can only fucking watch as it falls at her feet, and is shoved to where her shoes are. “So I’m the first one you’ll wake up with?”

  I inhale sharply, leering like a fucking creep at her proud, bare tits and that black scrap of an underwear. The smooth pale cream belly in between. The red hues of her hair glittering under the warm light. Beautiful. Intelligent. Compassionate. So fucking spirited. And miraculously mine. “If we sleep, yeah.”

  A faint pink flush rises on her cheeks. “And I’m the first one you’ll take home with you?” She dips her fingers slowly inside the string of the panties, not tugging it down, simply teasing and pulling. Blood pounding in their vessels, I take two predatory steps towards her, but she orders, “Stop.”

  I freeze, almost in front of her, while she plays with the fabric of her panties, her eyes taking a trip down my body, slow, hooded, before she breathes out audibly. Sucking on her lower lip, her breaths coming fast, her voice a low whisper, “You’re so freaking hot in those clothes. You have any idea how slutty I feel for you right now, Mr King?”

  Yeah, I’m done with foreplay.
“Then fucking strip.”

  Her eyes heat with arousal, and I half wonder if she’ll ask me to do the same. But she doesn’t. The panties come off in one sure move and join the pile she got started at the side of the bed near the wall.

  Then she waits, a portrait of sultry obedience. Jesus help me, I’m going to ruin her. I want to. I want to ruin her for every other Caleb or dickface that Warren shuffles at her. “Get on the bed.”

  Her eyes tip to the bed and back at me. “On my back or on my knees?”

  Fucking Christ. My dick is erect enough to support a whole continent of flags, but I’m also pissed that she seems completely in her element when I’m dangerously close to forfeiting mine. Before answering her, I shrug my blazer off, until I’m only in my T-shirt and jeans, and her eyes gratifyingly widen. I sneer smugly, lifting and twisting my arm over my shoulder to tug my T-shirt from the back, pulling it over my head and arms, as if it’s no big deal. As if this isn’t the first heart and cock throbbing time I’ve fully undressed in front of any woman.

  Her lips part, jaw drops, cheeks flush, and eyes go wild on my chest, all sureness gone.

  I love it. I love this moment so much. I’m the one exposed for the first time, and she’s the one flustered. She’s the virgin, and I’m the nervous clot. So I tell her how I want her. For now. “Lie back and raise your knees.” Honey eyes come hurriedly up for my blue ones, and she stares at me open-mouthed like I’ve given her instructions in Latin. “Need some help, princess?” I cock an eyebrow and ask her in challenge, when she shows no signs of moving.

  She clamps her lips closed and flashes me a glare. Then gets on the bed, faces me and lies back slowly until she’s on her back, tits arched up and pointing, knees raised like I asked.

  I walk to stand over her in front of the bed, my balls tense with collected pressure at seeing her glossy red hair sprawled on the pillows, her nubile body primed for me. Fuck. Two seconds inside her and I’m going to dump everything I have. “You sure you don’t want gentle?” I ask for a confirmation, if I really am this lucky.

  “I want you. Any and every way you want me. And I know the freaking rules.” She asserts, emphasizing every word like it’s the most important thing she has ever told me.

  Thank fuck. “Then part your thighs and show me that wet virgin pussy.”

  Licking her lips, wading through the blush flooding her body, she parts her legs readily. Damp pink lips are displayed to me in offering, her eyes imploring me to use her body however I want. It ends me. Every residual nagging doubt in my head perishes. About her. About us. This. We belong. This is how we’re meant to be. I don’t understand it, and I don’t need or want to. I get to live it, and that’s enough.

  I unbutton and unzip my pants, her eyes tracing my hands as I slide my jeans and boxers down my legs. Her gaze anchors on my cock and the damn hussy palms her breast with her left hand, and draws a little circle over her clit with her right one, before dipping her finger all the way inside her entrance. She throws her head back and moans, her finger working her pussy.

  Fucking goddamn. I kick my fallen clothes away and give my erection a rough unsteady stroke. “How many times did you make yourself come thinking of me?” She looks at me awestruck and far removed from her head, and doesn’t respond. “Ariel.” I demand sternly, sliding on the bed, grabbing her knees and parting them wider. Then I snatch her hand away and suck her wet finger into my mouth, tasting the flavor that has my cock salivating. Releasing her hand, I ask her again. “How many times?”

  “Nine.” She whispers the answer.

  I smirk. This is going to be a long night. On the plus side, she won’t have to lie about being tired.

  Chapter 18

  Ariel

  ◆◆◆

  I feel the weight of his hot breath on my thighs, a second before his tongue thrusts inside my folds and wraps around my clit. I raise my hands over my head, gripping the pillows and whimpering. He’s done this before, but good God, the man is naked this time. Tanned and ripped and eight packed without an ounce of extra muscle, his tongue raining an onslaught of pleasure between my puffy lips.

  “Such a good pussy. Always so fucking wet for me.” He rasps, and sucks on my clit so hard I’m not sure if it’s pain or pleasure I moan from.

  I can’t believe how my body responds to him. Instantaneously and without reserve. He owns it, I can’t stop it, and I don’t want it any other way. I feel his nails biting into my skin as he keeps my thighs cruelly apart. Licking my pussy deep and fast, he keeps me close to the edge, but staves off my release by changing the pressure of his tongue when he senses I’m too close. I push my crotch up, trying to get him to speed up, but he does what he wants, licking, sucking at a pace that hangs me between frustration and expectation.

  “Count when you come--understand?” He dictates as he tongues me.

  Holy crap. Is he really going to give me nine-- “Aaahhhh!!” He squeezes one ass cheek hard, before pulling my clit in his mouth and flitting his tongue against it again. And again. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I shut them hard when he finally allows me to come against his mouth, screaming his name, my body shaking. “Eli!!!”

  He slides up swiftly, hovering over me, resting his weight on his elbows and forearms placed on either side of my chest. My breasts tingle at how close his naked torso is, but he remains there.

  “One.” He states, piercing my eyes, “Say it.”

  “One.” I repeat, dimly realizing that I’m grinding my hips desperately up to have his cock press against my skin. My toes are still curled from an orgasm and I need it again. And he knows it. Eli freaking King knows everything.

  Because he lifts himself up, and glides down my body, trailing sweltering kisses all over my belly. Grabbing my ass and hips, he bodily flips me face down on the bed. I gasp with surprise and shameless anticipation.

  “Goddamn look at that lush little ass.” He voices throatily, right before he spanks me. “Someday I’m coming for it too, baby girl. But today...” He says, and spanks me again, harder, “Today, I’m stamping it.”

  “Eli…” I groan, turning my head back to meet his eyes, but his are centered on my butt. I have ass envy of my own ass.

  And then the thought disappears when he curls a finger deep inside of me, starting a furious rhythm without any soft opening. He hits my other ass cheek, his finger thrusting in and out of my pussy. I’m dripping wet, clenching around his fingers, and every time his big palm smacks my ass, I shudder with pleasure, because I haven’t ever felt anything like it. All the caution I’ve exercised in my life comes down to this...

  His thumb finds my clit, flicks and plays with it, suddenly gentle, dragging unhurried circles in a torturous beat. The other finger has found that spot that makes me see dancing rainbows. One more spank, and I stop breathing, trembling all over as I release on his fingers, riding them, writhing, twisting, and he never stops the finger fucking for a tiny second.

  “Two!!” I’m not even sure how I remember, but I count, and all of a sudden his lips are drizzling heat across the back of my neck, then my back, then lower where my ass twitches with soreness at his soft touch.

  He turns me over again, grabbing both of my wrists with one hand and pinning them on the plush mattress, raised over my head. Pressing kisses from my neck down to my collarbone, his other hand rolls my nipple between two fingers still moist from my release, and the thought alone makes my peak hard. Then his wet mouth covers my nipple, and my back leaps off the bed at the contact. My mind goes in a tizzy when he groans deep in his throat, and my hands fight against his hold.

  My legs clamp around him, driven insane in feeling how hard he is. For me. “Eli, let me feel you...please…” I beg him.

  “Patience, princess.” He chides me on a harsh breath, before using his teeth like pliers on my nipple, and all I can do is grow wetter at his touch. Moan lustily when he bites down on the areola. Curl my fists hard when I feel his cock leaking his own arousal on my thighs.
/>   Lifting his head up, blue eyes alight but darkened, he asks, “Can you come like this? Just with my hands and mouth on your tits?”

  I think I might come from his damn words alone, but he lets my hands go, so he can find out for himself. He teases one breast relentlessly with one palm, and sucks on the other nipple. Then releases it and blows over the tautened skin. My body frantic, I move my hips up and down, so I can feel his cock dab against the heated skin at the inside of my thighs.

  “Not enough.” He grunts suddenly, coarsely over my breast, and I don’t get him, until he pushes my mounds together and takes both my nipples into his mouth, his teeth nipping, his mouth sucking, his tongue flicking, his hands kneading.

  “Holy sh...Eli…” I can hear myself, but it feels from a far away place. Because quakes run through me, unforgiving, like his hands and his mouth. They keep at it as I ride another climax, my body answering his question in spades.

  “Three…” I pant out, sounding like someone making lewd breathing noises on the phone. When he doesn’t do anything, I open my eyes to the moment of respite from his ministrations. I run straight into his hungry ones. Twinkling irises and crinkling corners. What’s so funny?

  “Whenever you’re ready.” He says softly with a smile.

  What? What does that--

  My eyes catch my fingers threaded through his hair, gripping tight and hard, almost trying to rip the strands out. Shit. I rush them out and cup his cheeks, running a worried gaze all over his face. “Did I hurt you?”

  His face alters, a dollop of some tender emotion trading places with plain lust as I look on. There’s a fierce fondness in his expression that gets my heart racing. When his lips move, Eli’s voice is deep and calm. “This isn’t just sex. You know that, right, princess?”

 

‹ Prev