Duke of Manhattan

by Louise Bay

  She rolled her lips together. I released the base of my cock and pressed my thumb against her clit.

  “No, don’t. I’m—”

  I paused. “No?”

  “It’s just, I’m so full. And if you … I’m going to come again.”

  Oh wow. Yeah, I liked this woman.

  I moved my thumb back and forth as her breathing became heavier, more labored. I wasn’t moving my cock at all. It just stayed sunk in her, feeling every contraction of her pussy. Sitting there getting my dick milked by her, not using anything other than my thumb, if I didn’t think of something else, I might very well be coming with her.

  I wanted to draw this out, make it last.

  Her hands left my arms and grabbed the sofa cushions either side of her as she arched her back and screamed.

  The sensation of her orgasming around me dissolved my ability to hold back and I began to move. Small slow movements, pulling in and pushing out, watching her as she floated down to earth.

  Her head turned one way and the other. “So good,” she mumbled.

  It was all the encouragement I needed, and I picked up the pace.

  I liked to see women from every angle. Liked lots of different positions. But tonight I was content to just watch her pleasure trickle across her face, feel her body shudder as I plunged into her.

  She pushed to her elbows, glancing down at where we joined. I leaned forward to kiss her, and she thread her fingers through my hair, pushing her breasts against my chest.

  I groaned, the tips of her nipples grazing against my skin.

  “You feel so good,” she said, pulling away from my mouth.

  I reached behind and under her ass. “Back at you.”

  I’d begun to pant. The change in angle, the press of her skin against mine, the way she looked at me as if she trusted me—it was all pushing me forward, upward. “You thought I wouldn’t fit.” I licked up her neck. “But you got so wet for me.”

  She met my thrust, and I could feel the end of her.

  She wrapped her arms around me, her nails digging in to the skin of my back.

  She let out a long, drawn-out vowel sound. But I wanted to hear her say my name.

  “Tell me what you want,” I said, pressing my thumbs into the soft flesh beneath her hips and rocking her toward me.

  “I want to come again.”

  I pulled her closer. I wanted to come so badly, but I wanted to make this last forever. “Ask me nicely,” I choked out.

  Her voice started in a rumble. “Please, Ryder, make me come again.”

  My name on her lips was all it took. She braced her hand against my chest, throwing her head back as her orgasm claimed her.

  The sheen of her skin, the heave of her chest—the squeeze of her coming around my dick. It was all I could think of as my need for release, my need for her, took over and I gripped tighter, pushed harder—slammed into her again and again.

  As I glanced down, her wide eyes and half-open mouth ripped my climax from me.

  I grunted as I poured into her.

  Her body relaxed against me and instead of extracting myself from her touch, I pulled her close, our heartbeats running next to each other.

  She trailed her index finger across my inner elbow and I had to concentrate so I didn’t shudder.

  I needed to move, lie down. I slipped my hands back under her ass and lifted her up. I pulled off the condom and discarded it. Swooping to grab the two unopened packets that lay scattered on the couch, I headed to my bedroom. Her legs fit snugly around my waist, her breath on my neck making my cock jump even as I walked.

  I flipped on the bedside lights and sat down on the bed, Scarlett’s legs on either side of me. I lay back, pulling her with me.

  “You’ve exhausted me,” I said.

  She rolled to my side, sweeping her hand across my chest. “Really?” she asked as she trailed her nails gently up my cock—dangerous and just what I wanted. Fuck, she was wicked. She sat up and leaned across my body to take me in her mouth. I don’t know what possessed me—I rarely said no to a woman’s lips around my cock—but I pulled her up and rolled her to her side, facing away from me. My fingers found her clit and without me having to ask, she reached back and fisted my dick.

  Her grip was perfect.

  I moved my hips, pushing through her tight hand as I swept her hair from her neck and pressed my lips just above her shoulder. I wanted to taste every inch of her body. I sucked and she cried out, renewed wetness coating my fingers. We rocked backward and forward, until I was overcome with that same urge to be inside her.

  I grabbed the condom packet and ripped it open. Rolling onto my back, I slid the latex on. I glanced back at her. She’d moved to her stomach, her rounded ass leading down to her swollen pussy.

  She really was the perfect fuck.

  I reached between her legs, circling her entrance before prizing open her cheeks and trailing my fingers up to her asshole. She groaned and I couldn’t wait a second longer. I straddled her and pushed my dick into her pussy, watching her ass squeeze and release under my fingers. I increased the pressure and she whimpered as she swallowed the tip of my thumb.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled into the mattress, squeezing my cock and my thumb so hard I thought I’d explode. I clenched my jaw and tried to focus on my breathing, pushing my body deeper into hers.

  She reached behind her, trying to bat my hand away, then pushed herself up on the bed. “Please, Ryder. I can’t handle—I think I’ll pass out if you don’t move your hand. I mean I’d die happy but fuck, it’s too much all at once.”

  I chuckled and relented, removing my hand and shifting us until I was on my knees and she sat impaled on my cock facing away from me, her legs on either side of mine. It was better—having more of her touching more of me.

  She surrounded every part of my dick and her head tipped back onto my shoulder, her mouth on my jaw. The rhythm was just right, her sounds as loud as I’d hoped, and I let myself enjoy her and that moment hoping I could draw it out—make it last forever. It might have been seconds or days but it was perfect. She was just perfect.

  Her whispers were just what I needed to hear. “Oh, God, Ryder, yes.” She made me forget everything.

  We were both wound so tight we were about to snap. She broke first, whimpering into my mouth, stretching her body against mine as I felt her begin to fall. I couldn’t wait a moment longer and I pushed up, erupting into her.

  Fuck. Me.

  Yes.

  She fell forward, collapsing onto my pillows, her wild black hair spreading across her body.

  A second later I was next to her.

  “I can’t move,” she said.

  I knew the feeling. “Then don’t.”

  Blood pounded in my ears and I wasn’t sure if it was her panting or mine that filled the room.

  “I need to pee,” she said, eventually.

  “Yeah, you better get up, that is not my kink.”

  She giggled and I smiled. I liked that I made her laugh for some reason. Maybe because her smile was so beautiful. I liked that I could induce it.

  She pulled herself up, and made her way to the bathroom. “Hey, Scarlett, the door.” She hadn’t shut it, but she ignored me.

  The toilet flushed and the faucet squeaked and she reappeared. “Those things we just did, and you’re worried about me shutting the bathroom door?” She smiled and shook her head.

  Well, when she put it like that … It was just that I wasn’t used to people being in my space. It was weird to see someone padding around my bedroom, peeing in my bathroom. She climbed back onto the bed and collapsed in the same spot she’d just left—on her side, facing me.

  She mumbled as I covered us both with a blanket.

  “What did you say?” It sounded like more than thank you.

  She lifted her head from the pillow. “Violet was right.”

  This was why I didn’t have sleepovers. I wasn’t good at small talk with women. “She was?”

>   Her eyes slid shut as she nodded. “She said it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. And it wasn’t.”

  I scooted down the bed so I was mirroring her. “What wasn’t bad?”

  She let out a sigh as she spoke. “The sex.”

  “What?” I pushed up onto my hand. Had I heard her right?

  Scarlett’s eyes opened, wide and startled. “What?”

  “You expected sex with me to be bad?”

  She grinned and shut her eyes. “Shhh. No, silly.”

  Had I missed something? I lay back down, tempted to ask her what she meant but not wanting to share anything more. I already knew more about Scarlett than I did most of the women I fucked.

  She took a deep breath and then said, “First sex after the divorce. She said I just needed to get it done.”

  That pinched more than it should have. She’d just been getting it done with me? It wasn’t that bad? Jesus, maybe I was losing my touch—I thought we’d been phenomenal.

  She shuffled closer and put her hand on my chest. Instinctively, I placed my palm over hers. Normally, I’d have left by now. I wouldn’t have stuck around to hear the reasons a woman had slept with me. I guess I’d always assumed it was my charm and good looks—that it was me that they wanted to sleep with rather than just someone. Maybe I was the asshole that John said I was.

  Well, I’d prove that we were more than just getting it done. Soon, I’d be ready for the next round and I was determined I would stop her thinking about anything other than how good I made her feel.

  Four

  Ryder

  I had far too many plates spinning.

  A night of a lot of phenomenal sex and not much sleep left my brain a little fuzzy.

  I liked a full workload. But things were getting out of control. Despite numerous phone calls with lawyers and trustees, at the moment, Frederick was likely to end up my boss if my grandfather died. I needed to find new office space and Cecily Fragrance was pushing back on our offer, even though it was more than generous.

  And then there was last night and Scarlett.

  “What’s got you in such a bitchy mood?” John, my finance director, highest paid employee and best friend since college, asked as he stood in front of my desk, while I was trying to find a file I couldn’t even remember the name of.

  “You’re the finance guy; you’re supposed to know everything. You figure it out,” I snapped as he took a seat opposite me.

  It was true what they say about the more powerful and successful you are, the less people tell you the truth. And I’d seen how many businesses that destroyed. Employing John was one of the first things I’d done, and he’d given me shit from the moment he started.

  I loved him for it. Mostly.

  No matter how big the Westbury Group got, or how much money I made, John always told me the truth.

  I slumped into my office chair, a stack of papers on my desk spilling onto the floor. John raised his eyebrows. He was right. I was in a bitchy mood.

  “I think I got used for sex last night.”

  John covered his mouth as he guffawed like a teenager discovering porn in his dad’s closet.

  I sighed so deep I wheezed. “Fuck you.”

  “No, apparently, you’re the one getting fucked these days.”

  I shrugged. “I think I was like the first sex after her divorce or something.” She’d told me as much and I’d lain awake most of the night, thinking up questions that I never asked her.

  Had she ever cheated on her husband?

  Was Violet her only sister?

  Why did she get divorced?

  Was she still sleeping with her husband up until the divorce?

  How did he compare with me?

  I mean, she came like a train. But maybe she had with him too. For some reason, this girl had gotten under my skin. Maybe it was because she’d seemed nervous before we’d gotten to my apartment but almost overfamiliar in the way she peed with the door open and seemed to tell me everything she was thinking.

  “You mean you actually spoke to this one?” John asked, still grinning.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. But he was right. Not that I never spoke to the women I fucked, because of course I did. How else would I get them into bed? It took more than my pretty face.

  I just never really listened to what women said, never thought about their motivation. I was getting what I wanted, after all.

  And my focus was always right there, in the moment. Not just on me. I wasn’t a completely selfish dickhead. I wanted the women I fucked to have a good time, too. But I guess their enjoyment fed my ego too. But I didn’t think beyond that room, beyond that moment. I didn’t think about the before or the after. Scarlett had pushed me out of my carefully constructed reality. Just a little.

  “Has it ever happened to you?” I asked.

  Scarlett had gotten up halfway through the night and headed out. I’d pretended to be asleep.

  “Been used for sex?” John asked. “I can only hope so. Why do you care that these women stupidly sleep with you?”

  I’d always assumed the women I seduced wanted to fuck me, but now I wondered if anyone would have been enough for Miss King. Was I simply the service provider? A glorified town car?

  Wasn’t that one step away from male prostitution?

  “I can see your imagination setting off fireworks. Are you seriously wound up by this girl?” he asked.

  “Not wound up, no. Just … ” How did I feel? Irritated? No, that wasn’t it. More a little thrown off balance, a little intrigued by her.

  “Call her. See if she agrees to a date. Then you’ll know if she was just using you for your body.”

  Yeah, maybe I’d call her. Ask her a couple of questions.

  “Seriously, man, you’re getting a little doughy around the middle. I don’t think it was your abs.”

  I glanced down at my stomach and then back up to find John chuckling. “You wish you had a body like mine,” I said. I put in the work and I got the results I wanted. It was the same with most things in life. The gym was no different.

  “Now, enough with the girl talk.” He stuck his hands behind his head. “Tell me you’re going to close Cecily Fragrance this week.”

  Fuck. That was the file I was looking for. I’d had our researcher do some comparable valuations that I could put in front of the owners at our meeting this afternoon. I spotted the file half hanging off the edge of the desk and grabbed it. “I’m going to settle it at this meeting.”

  “You going to up the offer?”

  I hadn’t quite decided that yet. “I need to convince the two major shareholders to walk away. I just haven’t found a way to make that compelling for them. They’re being emotional.”

  I got the feeling it wasn’t about the money for Cecily. I was going to make her a very rich woman, an extra twenty thousand dollars wouldn’t make the difference. No, I think she wanted to retain a stake in the business. And that just wasn’t going to happen. She’d hate what I’d want to do. Instead of staying with a few product lines in very high-end stores and boutiques, I’d expand and go into as many department stores as possible.

  And it wouldn’t be me doing it. I’d parachute a new president in. Cecily wouldn’t like that either. This was personal, and that was her weakness. I’d find a way to get her to accept my offer this afternoon.

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  “Well, you seem a little off your game. Maybe it’s the jet lag.”

  “I told you, I—”

  “Don’t get jet lag. I know. Maybe it’s this woman.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and stood up. “Maybe you just need a break. I know you’re close to your grandfather—why don’t you take this meeting with Cecily Fragrance and then fly back to England? Take some time with him?”

  Little did he know that my grandfather in hospital was only the tip of a very large iceberg. As much as I wanted to close Cecily Fragran
ce, what I really needed was to keep control of Westbury Group.

  I needed to stop thinking about last night and focus on my future.

  Five

  Scarlett

  I’d prepared thoroughly for my meeting with the Westbury Group. I had all the arguments about retaining a stake in Cecily Fragrance memorized. I closed my notes on my iPad and took a deep breath. I’d found a place I loved to work and I was going to fight to keep it. This was personal for me and no one could trump personal.

  The people from the Westbury Group would arrive any minute. I took out my compact from the top drawer of my desk and checked my makeup. If I hadn’t taken Violet’s advice last night, I wouldn’t have had to put so much concealer under my eyes this morning. My best preparation would have been a good night’s sleep. But I guess if I’d have done the sensible thing, I wouldn’t have had the most amazing sex ever.

  How was it possible for last night to have been so different from the sex I’d had with my ex-husband? I’d been nervous until I’d actually gotten into the apartment with Ryder, and then he completely took control and it took all my reticence and nerves with it. Violet had been right; I’d been equating sex with a relationship and become paralyzed. Ryder somehow had just unburdened me of all that. Marcus had always been so cautious with me, so worried I was enjoying it. Ryder took what he wanted from me—apparently that was exactly what I’d wanted from him.

  The knock on my office door jolted me back into the moment.

  “Hey, the guys from the Westbury Group are here,” Karen, my financial controller, said. She was going to join me for the meeting so she could take notes and be an extra set of ears. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

  “Are you ready?” I asked, picking up my notepad, tablet and business cards.

  Karen nodded—her movements jittery.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I said, trying to reassure her. “Like we said yesterday, just write me a note if you think I’m missing anything and you don’t want to speak up.”

  I knew what it was like to be across the table from a bunch of overconfident suits. What Karen didn’t realize was these guys would be as full of shit as anyone. They just dressed well and had a lot of money. “Remember, they still have to use toilet paper, just the same as the rest of us.” My dad had always encouraged Max, Violet and me not to be intimidated in the boardroom. He told us office life was just a game and to remember if you worked hard and lost, it just meant the other players understood the rules better. You had to dust yourself off and start fresh for the next game. I hadn’t realized how right he was until I’d started my corporate career.