A knock on the door has him walking toward it in long strides, and he opens it with a click, “Jarvis.”
“I can go out and get some clothes for your guest, Sir. There is nothing available at the moment.”
I wince, “Can’t you just lend me a T-shirt or something?”
Steven stares at me, before dismissing Jarvis.
He holds up a black button-up shirt, “Will this do?”
I nod and take it from his outstretched hand.
“The bathroom’s through there,” He points to the small door, next to the wardrobe.
My bare feet padding over the carpeted floor, I twist the handle and let myself in.
I don’t give myself time to gawk over the modern and chic bathroom, quickly stripping from my cold and wet dress.
In the full-length mirror, I study my bare form, clad only in undergarments and my heart beats a little faster at the finger marks on my thigh where Travis had dug his clumsy fingers.
Stumbling to the counter, I wash off my makeup, suddenly not wanting to look the least bit appealing. The shower looks tempting, so I quickly turn the settings to boiling, and wash away any remnants of my date’s touch.
I wanted to keep scrubbing, feeling filthy. Tears slid down my cheeks as I attempted to be clean.
“Abby? Are you okay in there?”
I hear Steven’s voice from where I had curled up into a ball. It centres me, knowing he was out there, on the other side of the door.
I step out of the shower, my voice a little hoarse, “Yeah. Give me a few minutes.”
Drying myself with the towel hanging from the rail, I run it through my hair, letting it absorb the water.
My eyes look hollow as I stare at myself in the mirror, my skin too pale against my dark eyes.
That was okay. I didn’t feel particularly attractive right now.
I step out of the bathroom, with Steven’s black shirt hanging from my small frame. His shirt reaches to my knees, and I was trying to roll up the sleeves.
He was sitting on his bed, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together loosely, a frown on his face. His suit jacket was gone, and his sleeves were rolled back till his elbows. His hair was mussed up as if he had been running his fingers through it.
He looks up and I don’t miss the way his eyes move over my form, and I shift, awkwardly.
“It looks better on you than it does on me,” He seems to have intended it as a joke, but neither of us smile, his voice holding an undertone that makes me swallow.
“Come here,” He held out his hand and I find myself making my way to him.
Standing in front of him, I feel a little shy, uncertain.
He holds both my hands and peers into my face, “Are you okay?”
I hesitate, “A lot better. The whole thing shook me. I’m sorry for crying all over you.”
Steven grins, a boyish expression, but there is a hint of anger in his eyes, “You can cry all over me any time.”
It seems to me that all the while I had been in the bathroom, he had been trying to calm himself down.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I study his face, “I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?”
“Because you seem ready to commit murder, and I’m not altogether sure that’s a very good idea.”
Steven doesn’t say anything, lowering his head to stare at my fingers, “I am going to find out who this asshole is, whether you tell me or not. And then I’m going to make him regret for ever laying his hands on you.”
I pull my hands away from him and wrap them around my middle, uncertainty and confusion rearing their heads in my brain, “Why do you care so much?”
I thought he wanted me in his bed.
This went a step beyond that.
He just watches me, those gray eyes holding a mixture of exasperation and annoyance, “Because I care about you, you stupid woman.”
Chapter 12
My eyes widen at his words and my face flames.
“I thought – I mean, you were always –“ I stammer.
Steven glares at me, “Yeah, I’m aware. You think I’m some playboy who tosses women aside after I’m done with them. You haven’t exactly been subtle about what you think about me.”
I purse my lips, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a…”
“A snob?” Steven raises a brow, making me feel even worse about how I had been treating him.
“Yeah, sorry.”
His smile fades, as he studies my face, “Have you eaten?”
I shrug, “I don’t really have any appetite. I’ll just go home and sleep.”
Steven gets up, “You can spend the night here. The weather is too bad for anyone to be out right now.”
I frown, “What do you mean?”
He gestures toward the window as he makes his way to a small mini bar that I hadn’t noticed, “Go look out the window.”
I stride over to the golden draped windows and push them apart, only for my eyes to widen.
There was a conjoining terrace outside, and I if I were to twist the lock, I would step out into a blinding blizzard.
“When did this start?” I ask with a hint of dismay.
“Moments after we got back,” Steven answers from right behind me and I whirl around to see him standing there, a bare inch between us, his eyes glittering like the firelight.
My lips part on seeing him so close, and I couldn’t ignore the way my pulse rate raced.
“Scotch?” He holds out the thick glass to me, and I accept it.
What was wrong with me?
I watch him as he loosens his tie, picks up the trench coat I had abandoned on the chair, and hands it in the bathroom to dry.
He wasn’t even flirting with me right now, and all I could think was how delicious he looks. Biting my lower lip, I stare at the golden liquid in the glass.
It felt like his presence had erased the past one hour.
He steadies me.
I was calmer now and feeling more like myself.
“You haven’t touched your drink.”
He must have noticed me staring, because he was staring right back at me, with cocked brows.
“Yeah,” I felt a little sheepish. I sip at it, and the taste of it shocks me.
“It’s so smooth,” I murmur.
“It’s 70 years old,” He tells me.
I blink.
This was some very expensive scotch.
Seeing the unease on my face, Steven laughs, “Don’t worry. My grandparents own their own brewery and vineyard. They send their finest stuff every few months.”
My shoulders relax, and I finish the rest, putting down the empty glass on the polished wood of the bar.
“So, I have to stay here?”
“I’m not letting you leave in this weather,” Steven sits down in one of the armchairs near the fire, crossing his legs.
“So, um,” I look around. “Where do I sleep?”
A slow smile on his face, and he sips at his drink, “Where do you want to sleep?”
The answer was obvious, and he must have expected me to say it, but the words ‘guest bedroom’ got stuck in my throat.
“I don’t want to be alone.” I say, simply.
He freezes.
I don’t break the eye contact.
I had developed feelings for this man who kept pushing himself in my face, demanding that I notice him. And the way he had helped me tonight, despite my attitude toward him, made me slip a little further.
There was something about him that drove me insane, and at the same, grounded me. I craved that. I craved the darkness that I would often see behind his eyes. I wanted to sip from this forbidden pool.
But tonight, I wanted him to erase Travis’s touch from my body.
The way his eyes glinted at me in the ensuing silence of my words, fascinated me. Slivers of gold in those cold gray eyes that seemed intent on me. I could feel his eyes rake over me and my nipple
s harden.
Right now, as he sat in that arm chair, relaxed, his tie hanging from the back of the chair, the first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, a drink in his hand as he watched me, I couldn’t control the shiver that flowed through me.
I didn’t have a name for it, but I wanted to offer myself to him.
There was no smile on his face, or a smirk, just this look in his eyes, when he curled his finger at me, making me move my feet.
Putting his drink aside, he grabbed me by my small waist and dragged me into his lap.
His cologne was a spicy masculine scent that stirred me even more.
His hand on my chin, he forced me to look at him, his voice rough, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t ask twice.
His eyes narrow, and he gently touches his lips to mine, in a gentle caress, all the while his eyes never leaving mine.
I shudder as his hand circle around my neck in a dominant hold and keep it there.
My eyes flutter shut at the soft wet kisses that were so unlike him.
My hair was still wet when he wounds his fingers in them, holding a fistful of it in a firm grip.
My eyes flew open when he tugs my head back to meet his eyes.
“I won’t be gentle,” He warns me in a dark tone. “I’m very dominant in bed. If you want to step back, now is the moment.”
I grab his shirt with both hands and kiss him, fiercely, throwing all consequences in the air.
I feel his lips curve against mine, before he takes over.
His tongue probes my lips, making me part them.
He explores my mouth with the kind of finesse that has me gasping for breath, but his hand in my hair holds me in place, preventing me from moving.
His tongue is hot, and wet, and soft and it suckles on mine, making me twist and shiver in his lap. His hands move from my neck to settle on the small of my back as he moves his mouth lower and I tremble when he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss on my jaw and then moves on to suckle at my neck.
He doesn’t leave any area unmarked.
His mouth is lethal as it explores my shoulders.
Pulling my head back by my hair, he sets out pressing wet kisses and sharp bites that border on the thin line between pleasure and pain.
My eyes stare at the ceiling, dazed with pleasure, not able to make sense of anything.
Hearing a button pop, I simply realize he was undressing me.
His mouth is now on the globes of my breasts.
I moan loudly, fisting my hands in his hair, not wanting him to stop.
My toes are barely touching the carpet, as I straddle his thigh.
A sharp movement and his thigh come in contact with my panty clad clit. I find myself rubbing against it, as he softly bites the top of my breast.
“Steven!”
My head is pulled back again in a sharp dominant move, telling me just who was in charge in the bedroom.
His voice is silky and dangerous as he suckles on my ear lobe and whispering, “Let’s see how many times you can scream my name before I’m done with you.”
I rub against his thigh and I feel his smirk against my cheek, before he drags me back for a wild kiss that makes me lose my senses.
I keep riding his thigh, feeling my panty become wet with my juices, as I moan into his kiss.
Suddenly, I feel air on my arms and he pulls back to drag his shirt off me, along with my bra.
I had no chance to say anything before he took one furled nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, making it painfully hard. His other hand plays with my other nipple. I have no choice but to look at his bent head as he plays my body like an instrument.
However, when his teeth sink into the soft nerve, I cry out as he pinches my other nipple with exact precision, and I cum.
Steven picks me up, my legs wrapped around his waist and throws me onto the bed, taking off his shirt, revealing toned muscles, and abs that I want to sink my teeth into.
He grabs my hands and forces them apart.
A smirk on those lips that are capable of driving me wild, and his gray eyes that haunt me, rake over my semi-naked body.
“Don’t move your hands. Or, I’ll have to punish you.”
Punish me?
I feel his hands on my legs as he traces my body with both his eyes and hands. As they creep perilously close to my most delicate area, I feel him plant a soft kiss on my thigh.
“It’s like your body was designed just for me,” He murmurs against my skin. “So soft and curvy.”
I meet his gaze from where I lay and see a ravenous hunger in his eyes that made me clench my abdomen, making my breathing turn quick, “I just want to devour you.”
His fingers hook in my soaking panties, “And I just might.”
I feel the cold air hit my shaved pussy and hear the delight in his voice, as he runs a finger along my slit, “Look at this. All I did was tease you and you’re already sopping wet.”
He raises himself on his knees and gives me a look, “Open your mouth, Abby.”
I part my lips and he slides his finger in, making me taste my own cum.
My eyes flutter shut as he pushes his finger in and then pulls out, developing a rhythm, the movement of his fingers showing me what is to come later.
I suck on his finger, making him groan and I see a bulge form in his pants.
“You know,” He says in a low voice. “One day, I’m going to have you under my desk, sucking my cock, as I work.”
The mental image made me buck my hips at the wave of ecstasy.
“You have a very strong submissive streak, Abby.” He presses a kiss on my soft belly. “I wonder if I can make you beg.”
I am finding it harder to hold on to my thought process, but I bare my teeth at him, at the thought of begging.
I never begged.
He takes it as a challenge.
Sitting beside me, he studies my face as he inserts one finger inside my completely drenched pussy.
Seeing as I hadn’t slept with anybody for a long period of time, my muscles had tightened, and the wet friction makes me moan. When my hands shift from their position, he grabs them with one of his wrists, above my head as he fucks me on one finger, and then two.
My cries are garbled as I feel the way those thick fingers push in and out, occasionally rubbing my clit.
“S-Steven.”
But he doesn’t stop, maintaining the steady pace, just in and out.
My lips tremble with the force of the sensation, as my body tries to both escape this exquisite torture and get more.
I refuse to beg, however.
His fingers increase their pace, his eyes never leaving my face, as he fucks my pussy with just one hand. My moans get louder and the second I felt I was on the edge of climax, he slows down, removing all his fingers, but one.
My inner muscles try to contract around his finger, as I was close to breaking.
“S-Steven!”
He raises a brow, “You know what to say.”
I growl at him, “I hate you.”
He leans down to brush his lips against mine and slide his tongue inside and suck on mine. Pulling his head away, he whispers, “Wrong phrase. Try again.”
“You’re an asshole!” I groan when he inserts another finger and scissor them inside, making me cry out.
“Not even close, baby.”
“Oh, God, just fuck me! Please!”
The cocky smirk slides from his lips, “Say that again.”
I was close to an orgasm, and I moan, “Fuck me.”
His fingers withdraw and suddenly three fingers thrust into my wet passage as he increases his speed, making me buck and cry, holding my hands still above my head, not giving me the chance to grab onto anything for purchase as I tumble over the edge.
His fingers withdraw from my pussy and even as I am coming down from my high, I see him raise his fingers and lick them clean.
“I like the taste of you
. I could eat you out for hours. Just stick my tongue in and keep fucking you with it.”
My abdomen clenches and I feel him release my hands and take off his pants.
He rounds over to me and runs his hands over my weakened thighs, before suddenly flipping me over with such great ease that I was startled.
Before I could even form a coherent thought, I feel the blunt tip of his cock probe my slit.
He doesn’t penetrate me completely, only slides in the head, making me clench the sheets.
I murmur his name, and I feel a sharp slap on my rear that had me jolting.
Another one, and before I could register the heated pain, his cock is fully sheathed in me, making me choke out his name.
It was so thick, and long, reaching places that had never been touched before. My lips part at this feeling of fullness and I wonder, in a dazed manner, why I hadn’t let him fuck me before.
He lets me adjust to his girth and size before pulling out till just the head remains, pushing back in a smooth movement, making me gasp out.
“Steven!”
I feel his hands reach down and rub my clit, making me see stars.
“Steven, please! Just move, already!” I beg.
I feel his hands on my waist, as he lifts me into a position which forces him deeper into me, eliciting a broken cry from my lips.
“Just fuck me, please!” I cry at him, when he doesn’t move.
He leans to my ear, and whispers, hotly, “How fast should I go, Miss Abby?”
I groan at how inappropriate that sounded and just gasp his name when he hits another sweet spot.
He must have noticed how far gone I was because he picks up his pace and starts jackhammering his cock into my pussy, making me scream now.
I couldn’t stop screaming his name as he fucks me so good that it was all I could remember.
I don’t know how many orgasms I had as he kept changing positions to suit him. At one point, he had me sitting on his cock, my back to his, as he had me bouncing on his lap, his hand clasped tightly on my throat, a possessive gesture.
When he came, he twisted my clit in a way that had me screaming out his name, my voice hoarse, before I passed out.
Chapter 13
I woke up to a pair of muscled arms wrapped around my waist like steel bands, my back against an unmistakable male body.
Wintertime Heat: A Christmas Single Dad Romance Page 7