Possess Me Slowly

by Joya Ryan

  “I’ll let her know,” Preston said. Leaning forward, his voice lowered. “I don’t know about you, but I think for our first pre-marital fight we did quite well.”

  Breath left my lungs. I hadn’t realized I was holding it, and I laughed. The way his eyes sparkled with that boyish playfulness was too much to take in. The man was just gorgeous.

  “Now, if you’ll come sign these, we can get all this squared away.” He gestured to the small stack of paper on the desk and I stepped toward him.

  The contract.

  He handed me a pen and explained every page as we went through it, always asking if I had questions. It was actually pretty thoughtful considering the circumstances.

  When we got to the last page, I looked up at him.

  “Last one.” He smiled and trailed his fingertip along my chin. The gesture made me all gooey inside. Between the craziness of the situation, adrenaline crashing, and Preston’s hands on me, it was almost like a calm, lust-induced mental state. Sign, sign, done.

  No love.

  No strings.

  Just a business deal.

  “This is for you.” He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a small black box, and set it on top of the contract. The inscription on the top read Harry Winston.

  My hands shook as I opened it.

  Oh. My. God. The center gem put that necklace from Titanic to shame. A princess cut blue diamond with small white diamonds surrounding it. It was beyond beautiful.

  Tears filled my eyes. Not with joy. With sadness. This wasn’t how I thought this day would be. A casual, “Here,” and the signing of papers was not the romantic proposal I had dreamed about. Granted, the only comparison I had was my parents’ story. They were at a carnival, Elvis was playing over the speakers, when my dad pulled my mom into his arms and swayed in the middle of the crowd. There, between cotton candy and “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You,” he placed a simple diamond on her finger.

  “Say something,” Preston whispered.

  I shook my head. “I just thought this moment would involve more dancing,” I muttered. Preston frowned, my last statement obviously making no sense.

  “I mean…” Staring back at the ring, I tried to come up with something other than what was really going on in my head. “I didn’t know diamonds came in this blue color.”

  The thing looked more like a gorgeous meteor than a piece of jewelry. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen.

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “It’s lovely,” I said, recalling his words to me the night we met. I hadn’t meant to sound so defeated or bratty, but it was the lackluster word that hit home. Everything should be fine. I should feel lucky, but I felt so…empty. So tired. And so alone.

  The only person who knew what was really going on, with my parents and the money and all the mess of my past was Preston, and he offered me a nice cold diamond when all I wanted in that moment was something warm.

  He maneuvered me to stand before him. My lower back pressed into the edge of the desk behind me and Preston cupped my face, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes were so unnerving. So expressive, yet so closed off.

  “You make no sense,” he whispered. I let out a half laugh half sob. “I thought women liked diamonds but you look truly miserable. Should I have taken you to Jared’s?”

  That time I really laughed. How did he do it? Make me feel better and comfortable while signing the next three years of my life away. I shook my head. “I’m not miserable. I just…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

  He moved closer, his hips pressing against my stomach and the edge of the desk dug a little into the small of my back.

  “This,” he ran his thumb along my lower lip and my mouth parted, “is real.”

  Somehow that small sentiment ricocheted a plethora of fireworks though my bloodstream. His mouth came down on mine. He didn’t move his thumb. Instead he pressed the pad inside my mouth and pushed down, opening my mouth wider. He delved his tongue inside and possessed everything I was in one long stroke.

  I groaned and kissed him back. My mind was a ball of buzzing confusion, tension and excitement. I needed something, but I couldn’t explain what. I just felt empty. And Preston was right there to hold me.

  Just like a few nights ago, with a simple encounter, flash of a smile, and blunt words, he stoked the fire that was burning in me. A fire that I thought had been completely extinguished. All the tension from the last several hours, days, months, washed away. He didn’t allow me to think about a thing. Feel a thing. All I could concentrate on was him. Surrounding me. Drinking me down.

  His hands landed heavy on my ass. “You have,” he trailed his lips down my neck, “the most amazing body.”

  He knelt before me and buried his face between my breasts, biting at the buttons of my shirt. His hands stayed firmly planted on my backside silently refusing to let go.

  “Get this off,” he growled. I instantly worked open my shirt and shrugged it off.

  “Now this.” He nipped at the lacy cup of my bra and I jumped because he snagged my nipple with it. The bite shot a zing of sensation to every limb. I reached around and unclasped the back and the scrap of fabric dropped to the floor.

  He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked while his fingers dug into my ass cheeks. Yanking me closer to him. I moaned and arched my back.

  “Fuck, you are a prize, Megan.”

  He kissed and nipped around my entire breast as if worshiping me. Like he had to touch every inch of my skin. I knew why I had fallen for this man once. Knew why I was falling again. Because he wasn’t a man. He was a force. And I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

  I fumbled around with his shirt and finally got it undone and off. His shoulders were hard and his skin the prettiest light mocha color. Flawless and smooth like freshly cooled taffy. Dark chocolate hair completed the edible essence of Preston Strauss.

  My fingers wove into his thick hair and I kissed the top of his head. He trailed his lips lower, licking and kissing my ribs, down to my bellybutton and across my hip bone. I stood there dazed while a powerful, successful, incredibly sexy man was on his knees exploring me with his mouth.

  I barely noticed him take my skirt down my legs.

  “You know what two things I’ve been thinking of all day?”

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “If you were wearing those stockings again.” His palms slid up my bare legs. “I liked them. But I love seeing all of you.”

  I had nothing to hide and even if I did, he’d find out. There was a liberation in the truth. A freedom in finally having someone else know everything.

  Maybe he was right, maybe this was how smart adults mapped out what they wanted in a relationship. Because nothing in that moment felt clinical.

  His hands trailed higher and my breath caught. “W-what was the other thing you’ve been thinking about?”

  He smiled up at me. “What color panties you were wearing of course.”

  Passion radiated between us like a furnace and I gave myself up to it. He pulled down my panties, gently urging my legs apart as he went so that the elastic stretched taut against my thighs.

  “Gorgeous. You know blue is my favorite color,” he breathed and peeled them the rest of the way off. His breath hit my aching core. I was hot, shaky and so ready for him.

  Reaching around, he palmed my ass and, as he rose to his feet, lifted me with him. Startled, but not surprised by his strength, I slapped my hands on his shoulders for balance and wound my legs around his hips.

  He set me down on the desk with a thump, my bare ass atop the papers I had just signed. He kissed me hard and yanked his belt and pants open. I drove my tongue into his mouth, tasting all his masculine sweetness. All the power and intensity. His hard cock prodded at my entrance and I squirmed to get it into position. His arms were like a vice around me and he gripped the back of knees and pulled me into him.

  His cock jammed into me and I cried out in
pleasure.

  “God, I’ve been wanting this, wanting you, all damn day.” He withdrew and returned with an even harder thrust, bouncing my breasts and rustling the papers beneath me.

  I placed my hands behind me for balance, causing my back to arch. He latched onto one aching nipple and sucked hard.

  “Yes! Oh, Preston, more.”

  I had started the day in a very different mindset and was now in over my head for Preston. He fucked me impossibly hard. His hips banged against my inner thighs—that was going to leave a bruise—and the thought made my core clench.

  “I feel you squeezing me,” he growled. He gripped my lower back and yanked me into him.

  “So deep…” I sobbed.

  He hit a spot inside that sent a snap of bone-cracking pleasure surging through my entire body. Scoring my nails down his back, I held on and cried out for more.

  My ass slipped along the papers, which were now scrunched and scattered across the desk. With every touch, every taste, every sound, I felt the connection between us. This was more than sex, this was a message. A promise.

  He was taking me over. Branding me from the inside out. Every breath I took in his presence, every move in his direction, it was all woven together. Designed to make me lose control and surrender to him.

  He had a contract that guaranteed no strings, but there he was, pulling mine.

  And I let him.

  Wanted him to.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed against my mouth. He wrapped an arm around my back and cupped my neck with the other. “I want to feel you come for me.”

  My skin was burning and my lungs overheating. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The pleasure was too much. It tingled in my toes until it felt as though my legs were on fire. He effortlessly hit that sensitive spot inside over and over, arching his hips just right at the end to rub his pelvis along my throbbing clit.

  “I…I…Preston!” I hugged him close as my orgasm splashed through every cell like a molten tidal wave.

  “That’s it.” He kissed my neck. “Come all over me.”

  Helpless against the raging wildness and searing white hot flash of pleasure, I had no choice but to obey and give in.

  He whispered my name and his cock hardened further inside of me. The jolt from the engorgement and added pressure spurred another orgasm through me that blistered all the way to my bones.

  His seed rushed into me and the warmth and intensity made me shudder. “I love feeling you…no barriers,” he grated.

  We were joined. In this moment, this feeling of passion and truth, the world seemed simple.

  Breathing hard, I shifted slightly and the papers I was sitting on crumpled further. We both looked down at the mess we had made of the contract.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled.

  “Well, I don’t think we’ll need a notary after all.”

  Chapter Seven

  The sound of the shower turning off made me open my eyes and look around. Lying in bed, I could see the bathroom door was ajar. There were some ruffling sounds, then wet footsteps slapping the tile floor.

  “Good morning,” Preston said, strutting from the bathroom rubbing a towel over his head in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs.

  Good morning indeed. The man was beautiful. Tall, strong, so much cut muscle wrapped in tan skin. I wished Christmas to come early just to open such a nice package. Every time he moved his arm to run the towel along his brow, drying his hair, his bicep and abs flexed.

  “You hungry?” he asked. My gaze snapped up to his.

  “Huh?”

  He lifted his chin slightly and unleashed all those straight pearly whites on me in a devious smile. “Must be. You’re drooling.”

  When I slapped my palm over my mouth and clamped my lips together the smallest chuckle came from him. He walked over to the bed and I sat up, pulling the sheets to cover my breasts.

  We had had an amazing night. It started in the office on the other end of the hall, but after mind-numbing pleasure, I vaguely remembered Preston carrying me back to the bedroom.

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after six.”

  Holy crap, no wonder I felt like my body had been hit by a truck, rather, Preston Strauss. I must have passed out sometime around midnight and didn’t get my eight hours.

  Stifling a groan was harder than I thought because one escaped my mouth.

  “Someone’s not a morning person.” He smiled again.

  I could get used to that sight, especially when it was pointed at me. It also made it hard to be grouchy when a nearly naked sex-god of a man was staring me down. Of course, I felt less than pretty at the moment, with bed-rumpled hair and mascara likely streaking down my face.

  “Not all of us are machines,” I called after him when he walked into the other room. Well, it was a closet, but it was big enough to be an actual living space.

  “Food will be sent up soon and I made an appointment for you to meet with Jill Castor, the wedding planner, at three.” He walked out of the closet, wearing steel-gray pants and black belt and buttoning up a white collared shirt. “Before that you should go to your apartment and get some of your things.”

  I bunched the sheets tighter against my sternum. “My stuff? And bring it here?”

  “You are my fiancé, so yes, living with me would be required.”

  “But, it’s a hotel.”

  He looked at his wrist and buttoned the cuffs. “I travel a lot, but I’ll purchase a suitable house after a wedding.”

  I knew my mouth was hanging open again, but for a whole different reason this time. This shouldn’t be a shock, yet it was. Yes, there was the contract and yes we poured over the technicalities mercilessly, but all the details that accompanied moving in with someone flooded to my brain.

  “There are a lot of matters to consider but we’ll take it in steps,” he said, straightening and looking sinful in his casual take on the standard suit. His shirt was tucked in, but unbuttoned at the top, and his lean hips lined with that ash fabric lined his body perfectly. Must have been tailored because it fit him like a dream.

  “I like my apartment though.” The thought of having someplace to run to—just in case—made me feel a tad better about this whole situation.

  “You can keep it. You won’t need to bring furnishings here obviously. Just some clothes and comforts you’d like. The rest will be taken care of.”

  “But…” I ran a hand through my hair.

  He frowned like he had last night when he gave me the ring, which was on the bedside table. I didn’t have the nerve to put it on yet.

  “What?”

  “This is just…weird.”

  One moment we were signing a contract and going over legalities, then we had a night with a few perfect moments where things felt real—like we really were a couple and had a legitimate connection. Now it was back to the sterile lists of tasks and chores, as if last night hadn’t happened. The distance, the professionalism, was in place and I felt more like an employee with a to-do list than a fiancé.

  “It will take time to adjust.” His tone was quick, but not harsh. Speaking another inevitable truth about the situation we were in.

  I nodded because he was right. I had made the choice. He didn’t force me. And I had reasons, good reasons, for agreeing. But getting my feelings and emotions under control and onboard was proving to be a difficult task, especially when I was starting to feel something real for Preston. I didn’t know what I felt, or how serious it was, but it was there and I was afraid it was going to grow until it complicated things.

  He came to the bedside table, grabbed his watch, and fastened it. Leaning down, he kissed me quickly on the top of my head.

  “I have several late meetings tonight, but I’ll have a credit card, personal bank card and a list of necessary phone numbers delivered later on today,” he stated, and walked out of the bedroom.

  When I heard the front door open and close, I knew
he was gone. The sheets were cold and I sat there confused and a little sad, which was stupid. I had gotten myself into this. This was a contract with no complications or overblown emotions.

  It was time I started understanding that.

  ***

  I walked up the steps to my apartment and unlocked it. Everything was clean and sparse. Emma had texted me yesterday saying she would be out of town for work for the next couple days. She kept her own schedule and traveled a fair amount for various clients and projects. While I missed her, I found myself kind of relieved she wasn’t home at the moment.

  She was my only real friend in New York and aside from Kate, the best one I’d ever had. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone about the Preston situation yet. I couldn’t tell them about the contract, which meant despite all my “good reasons,” I’d be lying to everyone when I broke the news that I was engaged.

  I walked through my room, stuffing clothes into my suitcase, then got all my toiletries from the bathroom. My forehead was hot and my head was pounding. I used to get “stress-sick” back when I was in college. Low-grade fevers and achiness. Splashing some cool water on my face, I looked up and caught my reflection in the mirror and I practiced my “happily-ever-after face.”

  ***

  “So I spoke with Preston earlier and he said you wanted the wedding at his hotel.”

  Jill Castor was the best wedding planner in New York City, and every other city for that matter. She planned events for the wealthy and famous, and Preston was insistent that she plan ours.

  We sat at The Strauss Hotel Bar. She sipped her cranberry juice and I just stared at my Diet Coke, which I hadn’t touched. My head was pounding and I could tell that I was still running a fever. “Fabulous choice, and convenient,” she said, flipping through a massive portfolio.

  Attempting to ignore the throbbing pain radiating from my ear to my skull, a clear sign that I had a full-blown ear infection, I focused on Jill. Her tight gray bun was fastened to the top of her head and her brown eyes had a nice quality. She had to be in her early fifties, and she was petite and dressed in a cream pantsuit with a chunky gold necklace lining her throat.