Crave Me

by Geneva Lee

  “Is this what you want?” I asked, pushing my shaft toward her aching entrance.

  “Yes, Sir,” she breathed.

  “Then get on me, beautiful. I want to watch you ride my cock.”

  She lowered herself slowly, impaling her body on my shaft. I rocked into her until I was buried so deeply that she froze in my arms.

  “Are you sore?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go slow and make it last.” I cradled her back as she leaned away from me and began to circle her hips. “But you should know, I’m not nearly finished with you.”

  “Promise?” she whimpered as her breathing sped up.

  “Yes,” I reassured her, rolling my groin against her. “Now fuck me, baby. I want to hear you scream.”

  A change of scenery and clothing seemed the best way to start Monday morning. I dropped a note onto Smith’s nightstand telling him to make his own coffee, and I’d see him at his office at eight. Then I headed across town, thankful that I was getting a head start before the streets turned into parking lots filled with morning traffic.

  It took me all of two seconds to pluck the tailored black dress that Smith had seen me try on at Harrods from my closet. A sentimental gesture, perhaps. But then again, if my experience with men had taught me anything, it was that he probably wouldn’t even notice.

  Then again, Smith wasn’t most men.

  I had time for a quick shower but little time for additional primping. Thankfully, this weekend’s nonstop cardio session seemed to have given me a permanent after-sex glow. A coat of mascara and a swipe of nude lipstick and I was all but ready for the day.

  Coming out of the bedroom, I jumped, temporarily surprised to see Jane waiting for me in the kitchen. Her unstyled platinum hair stuck up even more than usual. That and the loose fuchsia kimono she wore belied that she’d just gotten up. She smiled at me as she took a kettle off the hob and poured water into two waiting cups.

  “You look refreshed,” Jane said, passing me a warm cup of tea.

  I stirred in some sugar and milk, studiously avoiding her eyes, and shrugged. “I didn’t have to work much.”

  “Apparently you didn’t have to sleep either,” she said in a knowing voice. There was a point hidden under that statement. I was expected to spill as to my whereabouts for the past few days.

  But what had happened between Smith and me was too new for me to share. It might have meant nothing. Just a case of two consenting adults finally giving in to their more carnal natures. Still, I’d never been with anyone like that. Raw. Unfiltered. Up for anything he suggested. It had been like tuning into a private frequency. I knew what he wanted from me and I did it. No questions asked.

  I sipped my tea slowly to avoid burning my tongue and considered how I felt about all of it.

  “You’re overthinking things,” Jane informed me, breaking through the wall of thoughts I’d constructed in a matter of seconds.

  My eyes flickered to hers. I had no doubt that Jane would think nothing of my sexual escapades. I’d been treated to the dulcet sounds of some of hers over the last few months. She could help me understand how to feel about the shifting dynamic between him and me.

  “Maybe I am,” I admitted. This weekend was still ours. It belonged to Smith and me. I didn’t want to share him, not even the memories he’d given me. It was a possessive streak I didn’t realize I had.

  I abandoned the cup and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “Why are you up so early anyway? I’ve never seen you out of bed before ten.”

  “My flatmate finally came home. I thought I’d better say hello before she disappeared again.” Jane pursed her lips. She’d checked me, but I wasn’t about to give up my cards.

  “Did you worry?” I asked apologetically. That hadn’t been my intention.

  “Not at all. I received your text.” She waved off my concern before turning a piercing stare on me. “So you aren’t going to give me any of the juicy details, huh?”

  A sly smile crept over my face. I couldn’t hold it back.

  Jane merely laughed, winking as if I’d just given her all the dirt. “I think that’s detail enough.”

  There were terms for what I’d done with Smith. Ones I’d only read about in books. None of my past lovers had a penchant for dominance, which might have been why I never suspected I would be so open to it. Now I felt myself hungering for his hands on my body in ways no man had ever touched me. The slaps. The fingers around my neck. The desire to hold myself on edge and be restrained. It was all new to me, and I found myself wondering what it said about me. Part of me worried that it was seriously fucked up to crave his control, but the stronger half of me didn’t care.

  When I finally arrived, breathless, at work. I waltzed past Doris and went straight to Smith. He’d said I belonged to him now and I was eager to be back in his possession.

  If I’d expected an affectionate greeting when I reached the office, I would have been disappointed. But because I was still growing accustomed to Smith’s mercurial moods I’d prepared myself. Still his cold reception hurt.

  “You weren’t there when I woke up.” He didn’t bother to look up at me. His tone was so cold that I half expected ice crystals to form in the air.

  But they only fired me up. I’d given my body to him but not every waking moment of my life. Perhaps allowing him so much authority over me in bed had given him the wrong idea about where we stood. No matter how much I’d enjoyed our weekend, I was still the same girl he’d hired a couple of weeks ago. Mostly. “I left a note. I needed to go home and change.”

  Smith continued tapping a message into his mobile. He frowned slightly but said nothing more to me.

  Was he really that pissed off to wake up alone? “I’m not sure what I did wrong. I needed to change. I was under the impression that clothing-optional weekends ended before Monday morning, but maybe you need to send an office memo.”

  His lips twitched but he didn’t smile. A few moments later, he dropped his phone on the desk and finally shifted his focus to me. “I’ll see that a few items are delivered to my house.”

  Sheesh, down boy. How had he managed to go from dismissive to giving me a dresser drawer so quickly? It was enough to drive a girl to drink.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I have my own place”

  “On the contrary.” Smith leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “You have a room at my house that you may have occasion to use. You should have some things there. It’s unnecessary for you to drive halfway across London to pick up fresh clothes.”

  His purely pragmatic response left a funny taste in my mouth. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Would you prefer if I use that room?”

  “Clearly, I prefer you naked in my bed. But since you clearly want to establish boundaries, I merely pointed out a practical solution where both our needs can be met.” Smith grabbed a stack of folders and stood. With one hand, he buttoned his suit jacket before he strode out of the door of his office.

  I could hear him instructing Doris on what to do with the files, but I didn’t care. Maybe I was being just as hot and cold as he was. But he had to see how ridiculous it was to expect a woman to go to work in the dress she’d been clubbing in the Friday before.

  “There’s also the issue,” he continued as he reappeared in the doorframe, “that occasionally we might want to go somewhere that requires you be dressed on these, what did you call them? Clothing-optional weekends. But if you’d prefer to go all the way home with no knickers, so be it.” He paused, mid-stride and took my hand. “And since I didn’t get to say it this morning. Good morning, beautiful.”

  He pressed his lips to my knuckles, trying to charm his way out of this discussion. That was not about to happen. Smith needed to understand that regardless of how much he paid me, he couldn’t expect to cage me entirely and that there were certain things I wouldn’t budge on.

  “I tend to always wear knickers in public,” I said, not both
ering to hide the caustic note in my voice.

  “Not around me.” He sank back into his seat, a devilish grin carving over his face. “I want your pussy bare, and if I find anything covering it, I’ll just rip it off.”

  “I hope your clothing allowance will cover new undergarments.” I refused to play into his game. At least, I wanted to believe I could refuse. But somehow I found I’d taken a few steps closer to him.

  So much for willpower.

  “It doesn’t seem like you’ll need many.” His index finger rested thoughtfully over his lips.

  Fire burned in my core. All he had to do was look at me and I was ready. It was going to be hard to stand my ground on any issues if his mere presence turned me into a puddle of arousal.

  Smith had been in control since the moment he showed up at Brimstone. Maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine.

  “But when you aren’t around,” I whimpered, prowling closer to him, “I’m not certain I’ll be able to control myself.”

  Smith raised one eyebrow as I leaned down on his desk, giving him a full view of my rack.

  “I’d be disappointed in you if you couldn’t,” he responded in a serene tone, but I caught a blood vessel twitching in the side of his neck.

  “What would happen if I didn’t? If I lost control?” I sauntered around the desk and pushed myself up on its top. Crossing my legs, I gave him my most dazzling smile.

  “I’d advise you to never let that happen.” His hands dropped to the arms of his chair, and he clutched them, angling his upper body closer to me. The space between us was growing smaller by the second. “Or I would punish you.”

  “Punish?” I repeated, more than a little shocked to hear such an archaic term from his lips despite our foreplay over the weekend. “Would you spank me again?”

  “For starters. Then I’d make you suck my cock until you were so wet, you were begging for it to be inside you. But you know what happens to bad girls, beautiful.”

  “Enlighten me.” I drew the words out, allowing them to linger on my tongue far longer than necessary.

  “When you disobey me, I can’t give you what you want.” He gripped the thick bulge in his trousers, stroking down the hard length of his cock for emphasis. “I can’t give you this.”

  I wasn’t about to give in so easily, even though the thought of him denying me pleasure set my heart racing. “Good thing I have a battery-operated boyfriend.”

  “That would be a very naughty thing to do. And you wouldn’t need this then, would you?” he prompted as he unfastened his belt. “Except we both know that you can play with all the toys you want, and they’ll never make you come like I will. Do you remember what it was like? How you screamed?”

  My ass squirmed higher on the desk. I tried to make it look purposeful, but the truth was that I was losing my control of this situation and I was losing it quickly. There was only one thing for it.

  Gripping the edge of the desk with my palms, I pushed myself off and immediately dropped to my knees. Scooting between his legs, I stroked the back of my hand along his hot length.

  There was one sure-fire way to regain the upper hand over a man. My fingers deftly unbuttoned his fly, but before I could pull down his zipper, the phone on his desk rang. Smith’s hand shot out and caught my wrist as his other picked up the receiver.

  I leaned down and pressed my mouth to the bulge in his pants, but he moved his chair away. With a flick of his chin, he mouthed, “Get up.”

  I yanked my hand free and continued to work on his pants, but he stood, nearly knocking me over in the process.

  “No, I’m available to discuss the clause now. We all need this merger to go through as smoothly as possible,” he said into the phone as he took a step away from me.

  The message was loud and clear. My advances were unwanted. I scrambled to my feet, embarrassment flushing across my cheeks as I tugged down my skirt. Smith leaned over and scribbled something on a piece of paper.

  At least if he was going to be a dick, he was going to explain himself. But when he handed me the note, there was only one word scribbled on it.

  Coffee.

  Motherfucker. That was the note I wanted to pass back to him. Instead I crumpled up the piece of paper and marched out of his office, slamming the door behind me.

  By the time I’d gotten through the line at the coffee shop on the corner, I’d considered a hundred different ways to murder him. Poisoning his espresso seemed the easiest and most poetic, but it was definitely the fastest way to get caught. Although I thought a police officer might let me off when he heard my reasoning.

  Smith had refused my blowjob.

  That was obviously grounds for some type of extreme reaction.

  Stopping at the corner newsstand, I grabbed a copy of Trend magazine and began to page through it. If I wasn’t going to poison him, I was going to make damn sure that his coffee was cold before it hit his lips.

  Revenge was best served cold, right?

  An article on the perfect little black dress caught my eye and I flipped to it. The pages were stuck together, changing the article headline to “Bless.”

  I smiled at the thought. Any girl would agree that the right black dress was definitely a blessing.

  Meanwhile, I ignored the shrill ring of my text notification at first but finally dug my phone out of my purse when it sounded for the second time. But there were no messages. Wrong phone. Digging my personal mobile out of the bottom of my purse, I nearly dropped it when I saw the note from Edward.

  EDWARD: We have contractions! Get to the hospital.

  I turned, stuffing the magazine into my purse and nearly spilling the coffee in the process.

  “Miss! Miss!” The newsstand’s owner gestured wildly to my purse.

  “Oh, here!” I passed him the coffee and dug out a five-pound note. Tossing it to him, I took off down the street before he could hand me the change.

  I was nearly to the carpark when my mobile began to ring with an incoming call. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t the one in my hand. I pulled my work mobile out. Smith’s name flashed across the screen. I took one look at it and hit decline.

  Then I turned it off altogether.

  Norris, Alexander’s personal security guard and oldest friend, met me in the parking garage, ushering me past the swarms of well-wishers and paparazzi that had shown up for the blessed event. As far as I knew, only three people were on the guest list. Me, Edward, and Alexander.

  And the baby, of course.

  All the frustration and embarrassment I’d felt when I left Smith’s office had vanished, leaving only excitement that I was about to meet my new, if unofficial, niece. Half of the Royal Protective Services were parked at various entrances to St. Mary’s. I could hardly blame Alexander after the year he’d had. But despite the massive available security, he was a mess when he met me at the door.

  “How is she doing?” I tried to peek around him, but Alexander caught my arm.

  “She’s having a rough time. I finally convinced her to have some pain medication.”

  I squeezed his shoulder in support. “You should be in there. Edward and I will wait out here.”

  “Actually, she’s pretty put out with me at the moment.”

  “So you want me to go in and remind her that you hung the moon?” I guessed.

  He smirked, but the grin quickly fell from his handsome face. “She didn’t take my joke about being her lord and master all that well five minutes ago.”

  “She must be in a lot of pain.” I didn’t bother to remind him that he had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

  “Look, she coped with this pregnancy for far too long without my support. I’m going back in there in ten minutes whether she wants me to or not.”

  “I’m fairly certain that as the ruling King of England, you can go anywhere you want.”

  “I didn’t think she’d like it if I reminded her of that either.”

  “Give me a few minutes.” I d
ucked inside before he could keep me there any longer. Alexander had become the center of Clara’s world, but she was the center of his universe. I didn’t always appreciate feeling like I was in the middle of that, but I also couldn’t deny that he made her happy. No matter how frustrated she was with him, there was no way she was this without him at her side.

  “Thank God. The testosterone level in the room was beginning to make me ill,” Clara announced when I entered. She held her hand out to me just as the monitor at her bedside spiked. Clara let out a strangled cry, her hand still extended, and her other clutching her swollen belly.

  I rushed to her side and took her outstretched hand, wondering if the contraction was as painful as the death grip she had on my fingers. “Breathe.”

  She shot me a warning look.

  “Or don’t,” I said flatly. “But I don’t think not doing it will help.”

  Clara exhaled forcefully and dropped back against the bed.

  “I think you broke some of my fingers,” I informed her, trying to wiggle feeling back into them.

  “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

  “No problem.” I passed her a cup of ice chips from the table next to her bed. My experience with childbirth was limited to what I had seen in movies. As far as I knew, women screamed, cursed, and sucked on cubes of ice. There were more bizarre rites of passage but not many, in my opinion. “Now why has Alexander been banished.”

  “Because I’m going to take this”—she held up her IV line—“and strangle him with it. He seems to have forgotten which one of us is birthing this baby.”

  “What does the doctor say?” I switched the topic away from her husband quickly.

  “I’m not dilating fast enough. They gave me some useless pain pill, and now they’re monitoring the baby. Oh and a nurse told me half of the damn country is outside waiting for me to push her out.”

  “Keep things in perspective,” I said soothingly. “A couple hundred of years ago and they would have all gotten to be in here watching you.”