“Is that a normal part of your duties?”
He laughs. “No. I’m not usually here on his day off. I wanted some. I was just being polite in saying it was for him.”
I shift my foot to move further down the stairs, but I’m not wearing nearly enough for this conversation. “Would it be a terrible imposition if I asked you to bring coffee upstairs?”
“Not at all.” He pauses and glances at my legs, but not in a creepy way. He keeps his gaze on my ankles. “Could I perhaps assist in retrieving some of your clothes for you?”
Surreal conversations I never thought I’d have. “Umm…How…private is the entrance in the daytime?”
“Reasonably private.”
“I…”
From behind me, Gavin clears his throat. “Good morning.”
I turn as much as I can without flashing Lachlan a view of my butt. As much as I wanted Gavin when I woke up, my heart still melts further when I see him standing on the landing in nothing but a pair of dark grey cotton shorts, his hands on his hips.
And an amused smile twisting his lips in a way that ratchets up my internal temperature.
“Where is your purse?” he asks me quietly.
“I think it’s downstairs.”
He nods, then raises his voice and directs his next words at Lachlan. “Find Ms. Montague’s purse. Her keys are inside it. Go to her apartment and get her some clothes.” He looks back at me. “Any specific directions for him? Closet? Dresser?”
My cheeks burn up.
Gavin smirks. “Any drawers he should avoid?”
The top one. “I have yoga stuff in the bottom drawer. Pants and a top would be great. And flip flops—they’re in the bottom of the closet.”
He looks past me again. “Got it?” Lachlan must have nodded. “Thanks. And we’ll get our own coffee. Stay out of my kitchen today.”
A chuckle below tells me Lachlan doesn’t take offense.
As his footsteps below fade away, Gavin holds out his hand and I hurry back to him.
“I didn’t like waking up alone, Sprite.”
“I had to pee.”
“And talk to my chief of security?”
“That was an accident.”
“You’re naked.”
“I’m covered up.”
“Barely. Are you arguing with me?” My eyes must light up because he laughs. “I told you, I’m not interested in punishment. If you want to be a brat you’ll need to tell me so I know we’re playing.”
Brat. I roll that around for a second. No, I don’t want to goad him…much.
“You don’t like to wake up alone?”
“That’s not what I said,” he whispers, brushing his mouth against mine. Minty fresh. Someone brushed his teeth before coming to find me and order me back to bed. “I wake up alone every single day. Today I wanted to slide into you while I was still half asleep. Make you come before my eyes were even open. I wanted to feel your nipples get hard against my hands and sink my teeth into the nape of your neck as you got close to orgasm number two.”
“Wow.” I slide my hands over the hard planes of his chest as he undoes the buttons on his shirt. My pulse picks up as his fingertips not-so-accidentally brush the curve of my breast. “I really missed out.”
“We have all day for you to make it up to me.”
“We do?”
“Do you have other plans?”
“No.”
“Then we have all day.” Tension tightens at the corner of his eyes. “I’m not going to be able to give you a lot of days like today, but I want to start this right.”
This? What is this, exactly? But I’m not asking that right now because he’s finished with the row of buttons and his fingers have found me slick and ready for him.
“Back to bed, Ms. Montague.” God, I love that shift in his voice.
“Yes, Sir.”
He picks me up and carries me to his bed, where he lays me down and stretches out on top of me, heavy and hard.
Very hard.
I push at his waistband. I want him inside me, now.
He grabs my hands and pins them above my head. “Patience.”
“I have none.”
He grins and knees his way between my thighs. He trails a finger down my torso, then back up again, circling first one nipple, then the other. “What did you think about last night?”
He doesn’t stop touching me. How am I supposed to answer that question when I want him to pinch me already? That’s what he’s going to do, right?
I loved that last night.
But since I’m not answering, he frowns and lifts his hand.
Seriously?
I lick my lips and force my thoughts together. “It was wonderful.” I hesitate, and he doesn’t miss that.
“But?”
“No. No buts. It was perfect.” For our first time.
“Sprite, this works best if you don’t cut yourself off like that.” He touches me again, his thumb and forefinger on either side of my already hard nipple. “What else did you think?”
“Pinch me,” I whisper.
“Please?”
“Pinch me, please. Sir.”
His eyes flash as he presses his fingers together firmly, pouring heat straight into my belly. I moan and he ducks his head, sucking the peak into his mouth.
“Teeth, please,” I breathe.
He bites me gently and tugs, pulling my breast as he rises above me. “So polite,” he mutters roughly. His mouth is wet and I want to touch it, but he’s still pinning me down. “So polite, and still such a bad girl.”
“What?” I struggle against his hold. “I’m not!”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You’re distracting me.”
“Focus, Sprite. Wait until I ask you not to come while working you over with a vibrator. You need to learn to control your desire.”
That sounds awful. And amazing. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’ll enjoy it.” He grins, feral now, and I squirm at the idea of him liking that control so much. And still he pushes me further. “What else did you think about last night?”
“It was…”
“Wonderful.” Now he’s just mocking me.
I struggle again and his grip tightens on my wrists. And my pussy swells. Like, I can literally feel myself fucking bloom for him. What the hell? “Yes. It was amazing. But I thought it would be more like this.”
He’s breathing hard now. We both are. He pulls a condom packet out from beneath his pillow and holds it in front of my face. “Hold this.”
My hands are pinned to the bed. How…? Oh. Swallowing hard, I open my mouth, and he lowers it just enough that I can bite it gently.
He rises above me onto all fours, then flips me onto my stomach.
“Unnnh,” I whine around the condom, but I’m lifting my hips in the air at the same time.
I have no shame when it comes to asking for what I want.
He’s not going to give it to me. Instead of spanking me again, he presses his entire body on top of mine. “Stay still, and we’ll put that condom to good use. Move, and I’m taking you downstairs and feeding you breakfast.”
That doesn’t sound so bad, but I can’t say anything, so I just nod.
“And not letting you come until very, very late tonight.”
My nod gets more intense. I’m not going anywhere.
He chuckles in my ear and it’s such a dirty sound. I shiver as he leaves the bed. It doesn’t take long for him to return, the bed shifting slightly beneath his weight as he climbs on top of me again.
Straddling me this time. He carefully gathers my hair and moves it off my back, then he takes my arms, one at a time, and moves them from above my head to behind my back.
Then he ties them together. Something silky slides against my forearms as he binds me wrists. “My tie from last night looks better on you than me,” he says gruffly.
Oh God. I lay there, arms bound, face down, and for a
split-second, I wonder what the heck I’m doing. Then he’s guiding me up onto my knees, lifting me upright. He moves in front of me and any doubt flies away fast as his gaze finds mine and locks on.
He settles me back on my heels, my pose not that different from how he found me in the living room last night. But this time I’m kneeling between his legs on the bed, not at his feet. And I can see his plan—he wants me to ride him.
He takes the condom from my mouth, then leans back against the headboard and opens it, slowly sheathing himself as he looks at me. His cock is thick and hard, the dusky red head darkening as he squeezes with each stroke.
He’s put the condom on, so it’s not like he’s just going to jerk off as he looks at me, right?
But the question…ahhh. It pokes at me. I want him more because I wonder if maybe I won’t get him. I want him with an intensity, a craving that is sweeter for the doubt.
I let out a shaky breath when he reaches for me. He sets one hand on my hip, the other curls around my rib cage, keeping me steady because I can’t do that myself.
“This more like what you were expecting?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
He wraps his arms around me, holding my bound wrists in his hands as he pulls me tight against his body. I’m so wet, his cock slides easily between us. “Can you take more?”
My pulse jumps. “Yes.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.” Oh, yes.
“You know how I told you last night what I like? I want you to make a similar list. Things you’d like to try.”
“I want to try everything you like.” Do I sound too eager? Is that possible?
“That’s good,” he says, squeezing my ass hard enough to make me squeak as he lifts me up onto my knees.
I roll my hips, hungry for the stretch of him inside me again.
“But…” He stills my body as I sink onto him.
I cry out and he grabs my hair, wrapping it around his fist. One hand on my ass, the other tangled in my hair, and my hands are tied behind my back. Surely this is perfection. How can he possibly have anything he wants to correct about this? I just want to pause the world and have him take me, over and over again.
“But what?” I pant.
“But sometimes I want to know what you want. Sometimes I want to make your fantasies a reality, too.”
I didn’t know that I had any fantasies before I met him. “I want this. I want you, and I want it hard.”
He pulls me down onto him, his entire length filling me in one breath-stealing surge. “Hard?”
“Harder.”
“Oh, you wicked woman.” He flexes his hips, dragging his cock out of me, then pushing inside again. This has always been my favourite position, but Gavin’s taken it to a whole new level, keeping me slightly off-balance as he fucks into me slowly. His eyes flash. Take it. Take it hard. And I do, letting my body go soft as he holds me on his lap. I’m utterly helpless—his plaything.
Once he finds a rhythm that works—rolling his hips up, dragging them back—his mouth gets busy again. He licks and sucks down my neck and across my collarbone, pulling harder when he reaches a spot that will be hidden when I’m dressed.
Mark me. I sigh as he lets go of my flesh with a wet pop.
“Gorgeous.” He inhales roughly as he shifts us so my breasts are in his face. “So gorgeous.”
They’re small. I like that I don’t need a bra most of the time, and can easily find one when I want it for fashion purposes. I don’t love that in the past they’ve felt…not enough.
I’ve hated that I’ve let myself think that for even a second. Bad feminist.
But with Gavin, I trust that he wants me, however I’m packaged, and he proves that to be true, over and over again. Like now, as he starts to whisper all the things he loves about my chest.
“This freckle here…” he licks a circle just above my right nipple. Inside me, his cock flexes and I pant at the new stretch deep inside. “Feel what your freckle does to me, Sprite?”
“Yes.”
“One of these days I’m going to cover this freckle with my come. Paint it with the evidence of just how hard it makes me.”
“Ahhh…” The image of him jerking off on my chest makes me crazy. I try to shift my legs so I can get better purchase on the bed, ride him harder—make myself come.
Gavin’s one step ahead of me. “Don’t do that, Sprite.”
I stop immediately, my thighs shaking with the need to come. “Please.”
He waits.
“Please, Sir. I want to ride you harder.”
“No. You want to come. You want to force it. You want this to be over.”
“No….” I close my eyes and sag against his arms.
He rewards me with a hard thrust that makes me scream his name. His cock pounds into my cervix and rubs against my G-spot on the way back out again. How does he have this much leverage? “I want you to come, too. I want your tight, beautifully pussy to cream all over me—once we’ve both had our fill of pleasure and pain. Unless you want to start coming now, and not stop until I’m done?”
I shiver and moan, because comprehensible speech is beyond me now.
“Yes,” he says gently. Clearly a sign he’s about to do something maniacal. He tugs at my hands and the binding comes loose. “Ride me, Ellie.”
He rubs my wrists as he eases my hands in between us. The tone has shifted, and I worry for a second that I’ve broken a spell. But Gavin is just as intent on fucking me as Sir was. I settle my hands on his shoulders and press up on my knees, rubbing my nipple against his mouth on the way up. He captures it on the way down.
I slide my fingers through his hair, grabbing a handful as I bottom out. Grinding myself tight against him, my clit never loses contact with his body. His cock is angled just right to hit my G-spot and I make a few long, slow passes, forward and back. He bites my nipple and I’m almost there. I pump my hips hard and fast while he sucks and bites at my nipples.
I yank his head back by the hair I’m holding and take his mouth in a greedy kiss. I’m so close.
He snaps his hips up hard, meeting me thrust for thrust and when he pinches my nipple hard, my universe shatters. He plunges deep on more time and I can feel him pulse inside me as he comes.
I’m a boneless rag doll as he gently lifts me off him and lays me down.
“Was that okay?”
He grins down at me. “That was wonderful.”
I blush at his teasing echo of my earlier words. “Shut up.”
He kisses my nose. “It was perfect.”
“I’m still learning.”
His face goes serious. “Ellie, I don’t need you to learn anything. I’m sorry I ever told you we wouldn’t be compatible. Obviously that’s not true. You’re perfect exactly as you are. And that you’re interested in letting me play, giving me the control…that’s a cherry on top. I don’t want you to worry about that again.”
We finally make it down to the kitchen after a leisurely shower where Gavin washes my hair and holds me close. Never before has a lover cared this much for me, physically. Of course, never before would I have described any of my boyfriends as a lover.
The kitchen is eye-poppingly dated. “Oh, wow,” I say as I take in the vintage cabinets and utilitarian, first-generation stainless steel appliances. The rest of the house has an antique appeal. This is just…fugly.
He grins as he opens the fridge and pulls out eggs, sausages, tomatoes, and mushrooms. “There should be bread in the bread box behind you.”
I turn and investigate. There is—really nice bread. Fugly kitchen, fancy food. Decent trade off. “Who does your shopping?”
“I have a housekeeper who comes in a few times a week. She’s part of the Governor General’s staff. It doesn’t make sense for me to have an entire household staff when my household is…me…and I primarily eat pizza and drink beer.”
I give his magnificent body a disbelieving look. “Pizza?”
“L
ots of veggies.” He gives me a boyish grin that turns into a dirty-as-sin, not-boyish-at-all up and down. “And I make sure to work it off.”
An unexpected pang of jealousy shoots through me. “How often do you do that?”
He freezes. “No.” He shakes his head. “That was just dirty talk. I don’t do this, Ellie. Not with anyone else. There’s just you.”
Butterflies take flight in my belly at the reassurance. I smile. “Okay.”
“Come here.” He sets aside the food and pats the counter. I slowly slide in front of him and he lifts me up so I’m sitting on the edge. This puts us at eye level, and I lean in to kiss him.
He lets me, parting his lips and slowly tasting mine. I slide my tongue against his, inviting him to play.
He takes the invite. He explores every inch of my mouth, learning what makes me groan and tighten my legs around him. His kiss scrambles my brain cells and makes me weak in the knees, and when he lets me up for air, I can’t remember what prompted it in the first place.
He does, of course. Mr. Always-In-Control.
“I think technically this is still our first date,” he says roughly, running his knuckles along my jaw before settling his palm against the side of my neck. The warmth from his touch slides under my skin and settles nerves I wasn’t even aware were jangling. “But we’ve been circling around each other for weeks, and my position makes for some interesting challenges when it comes to dating.”
Ah. The earlier mentioned this. “Are we dating?”
He smiles gently, but his eyes are a bit tense. “If you’re willing.”
“Oh, Gavin.” I reach for him, touching his chest, his shoulders, and it’s not enough until my hands are cupping his face. “Yes, I’m willing. I just didn’t know if that was…possible. Or desired. Or…anything. I’m stumbling a bit blind here.”
“Me, too.” His lips tighten. “We can’t date publicly for a while. And I hate to say that, because that sounds sordid but—”
“No, the optics are horrible.”
“But when you return to your research…?”
I lean in and kiss him softly. “I don’t mind keeping you all to myself for as long as I can. I’ll be careful. I haven’t told anyone. Not even my roommate, although she knows I have a crush on you.”
Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1) Page 12