by Meghan March
“Fuck you, Titan.”
“No, Yve. I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to love it.”
I stepped forward and reached for the tie to the robe. The woman was completely unpredictable, because once again she reached for me. But not my dick this time, my belt. She had it unbuckled as the robe slid off her shoulders.
“Don’t think this means I like you,” she bit out.
“Trust me, I know you don’t,” I said before I lowered my mouth to hers and took her lips.
Yve tore her mouth away from mine. “No. Don’t kiss me. You want to fuck, then we keep this impersonal. That’s my rule, Titan. You break it, and this is over.”
“Fine.” I groaned as she unzipped my slacks and palmed my cock, bare skin to bare skin.
Fuuuck.
I reached out and cupped her breast—the other one this time—and squeezed her nipple.
“These tits . . . I don’t know how you expected me to keep my hands off you once I’d seen them. Fucking perfect.”
Yve’s blush spread from her cheeks down her chest, but she said nothing while she pumped my dick. Christ, just the clasp of her hand was better than some pussy I’d fucked.
I dropped my mouth and followed the trailing color to Yve’s other nipple. Taking it between my lips and teeth, I sucked and tugged until her grip tightened and her hips shifted closer to mine.
Lowering my hand from her breast, I skimmed it down the curve of her stomach, along the flare of her hip, and cupped her ass. Jesus. That ass. Reaching between her thighs, I slid two fingers into the wet heat slicking her pussy lips.
I lifted my head from her nipple for a beat. “Jesus, woman. You do want this. You’re soaked.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she ordered, her gaze burning into mine.
A triumphant grin stretched my mouth, and I plunged two fingers inside her.
“Oh God—”
“No. Say my name, Yve. That’s what I want from you. I’ll make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life, but you have to scream my name so there’s no doubt who’s fucking you.”
“Shut up. You’re ruining this—”
I withdrew my fingers and spun her around before she could protest, pressing her forward over the countertop. My dick missed her touch instantly and I gripped it, focused on how good it would feel when I buried it inside her tight pussy.
Fuck. Condom.
I leaned over her and spoke into her ear. “Don’t you dare move. I want this ass out and waiting for me, or I swear I’ll make you beg for an hour before I let you come.”
“What?” The single word came out on a moan.
“Don’t move. I’m getting a condom.”
She didn’t reply, but I took her stillness for assent. I pulled my pants up over my cock and headed for the stairs. If she moved, then I’d jack off and pretend it was her sweet hand wrapped around my dick. If she didn’t move . . . then I guess I’d have my answer as to whether she wanted me more than she hated me.
Condom in hand from my bathroom, I strode back to the kitchen. A smile stretched my lips when I saw Yve bent over in the exact position I’d left her.
“Good girl. I’m going to make you come so fucking hard, and I’m not even going to make you beg.”
“Stop talking. Just fuck me.”
By the time her words were out, I’d already rolled on the condom and positioned myself behind her. I pressed the head of my cock to her entrance, and the tight, wet heat taunted me. In that moment, I had something to prove. She’d remember this moment for the rest of her damn life, and she’d be feeling me tomorrow.
“If this isn’t the best sex you’ve ever had, I’ll hand over the keys to my Aston.”
Yve’s husky laugh echoed through the kitchen. “Cocky bastard. I’ll enjoy—”
I drove inside her before she could finish the sentence.
“Holy shit,” I said on a breath, coming to a halt almost instantly. “You’re so damn tight.”
“I’m not screaming your name yet, Titan.” Her hips bucked back into me, taunting me and daring me to take her. Knowing she was as desperate for this as I was ratcheted up my determination another notch.
Challenge. Accepted.
I pulled almost all of the way out and plunged back inside as I slid my hand around her hip to tease her clit. Setting a powerful, even rhythm, I fucked her until her moans turned to broken cries.
“Give it to me,” I demanded.
“Shut up.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you goddamn dare—”
“Then you better tell me who’s fucking you.”
“Such an arrogant—”
I slowed, and her insult died.
“Just fuck me, Titan. God damn you.”
Hearing my name on her lips, edged with the raggedness of her need, spurred me on harder and faster. Within minutes, Yve’s inner walls fluttered around my cock. She was close. Holding off my own orgasm was testing the limits of my control.
“Give it to me, Yve. Let me hear you.”
“Oh my God.”
I pressed down harder on her clit.
“Titan!” Yve screamed as her muscles spasmed around me and she shuddered beneath me, her fingers gripping the far edge of the countertop.
“That works for me,” I said, and then I let go. My own roar of triumph bounced off the high ceiling. My hips continued to pump of their own volition. She’d stolen my control, ripped an orgasm straight from my balls.
As soon as I finished, Yve shifted beneath me. I stepped back, sliding from her body and promising myself it wouldn’t be long before I was back inside her.
This woman pushed all my buttons, taunted me, challenged me, mocked me. And the perverse son of a bitch that I was, I wanted more.
Yve slipped out from between me and the countertop, grabbed the robe off the floor, and shoved her shaking arms into the sleeves. Watching her, I rid myself of the condom, zipped my pants, and noted her heaving chest, wondering what she’d say next. I didn’t have to wait long.
“I . . . I have to go.”
“You need to eat,” I reminded her.
She turned to the door, and my first instinct was to reach out and grab her hand to stop her, but her reaction from earlier in the conservatory surfaced vividly. Someone had hit her—that much was clear. I was determined to hear the whole story where that was concerned. I might be a prick, but I would rip a man’s hands off if he raised them against a woman.
“Yve, stop.”
I FROZE AT THE COMMANDING tone of his voice. What the hell had I just done? I mean, beyond letting Lucas Titan bend me over and bang me like a cheap screen door on his kitchen counter.
Classy.
That’s exactly what I was.
My inner muscles clenched in protest; apparently they didn’t give a crap about whether I was classy or not. My body wanted more. That it was a problem of epic proportions wouldn’t be the understatement of the century.
Still motionless, I debated whether I should turn and face him, but decided instead that I’d wait to see what he said next.
Thirty seconds of awkward silence ticked by. I knew, because I counted. Finally he spoke.
“Sit. Eat. I’ll leave you alone.”
My stomach growled again, the traitor, and I squeezed my eyes shut. For the record, the awkwardness after hate-fucking on a kitchen countertop hugely outweighed the awkwardness after a drunken one-night stand. There was nothing to do but brazen it out.
Chin lifted, I spun, hoping I looked remotely composed. “You don’t have to leave. After all, it’s your house.”
Avoiding his intense eyes, I grimaced at the unappetizing hummus. No thank you, Mr. Titan. But at least the flatbread would be decent. I reached for it, bypassing the round container. From the corner of my eye, I could see Titan’s gaze tracking my movements.
“Not a fan of hummus?”
I shook my head, opting not to speak with my mouth full. Mama would be so
proud. The mocking, throwaway thought skidded to a halt in my brain.
I was sitting in a billionaire’s kitchen. I’d just let him—no, begged him—to screw me.
No, Mama wouldn’t be proud; she’d wonder why I’d done it for free. Shame coursed through me at the realization that I was fucking another rich man. I’d made that mistake before, and look how that had ended. Would I never learn?
Every bit of moisture leached from my mouth, and I struggled to swallow the cracker as I stood. “You know what? I’m not really hungry. Thanks.”
Titan’s expression shuttered. I had no idea what he’d say. The man was as unpredictable as lightning strikes, and probably just as destructive.
“Did Levi show you a guest room?”
Good. I supposed that meant this awkwardness was coming to an end sooner rather than later.
“No. He just gave me the code and told me to make myself at home.”
Titan barked out a harsh laugh. “Not surprising.”
My curiosity got the better of me, and instead of running for the door, I asked, “Why does your brother work in my store?”
The word “my” struck me in the gut as soon as it was out of my mouth. Because it wasn’t my store, and it might never be. I guess I’d see after my appointment at the bank with the loan officer.
Titan crossed his arms.
Jesus, the man was sexy. And an arrogant asshole. Wouldn’t forget that part.
And he fucked like a god. Couldn’t forget that part.
I snapped my mind out of the gutter as Titan responded, “Because he’s still going through the rebellious teenager phase, even though he’s no longer a teenager.”
“And working at Dirty Dog is a rebellion?”
“When he could have a highly sought-after spot in the Titan Industries intern program? Yes.”
“But he wants to be an artist, not work in corporate America.”
The muscle in Titan’s jaw ticked. “You think I don’t know what my brother wants to do? Shockingly enough, I’m the one who pays his tuition. And he can want to be an artist all day, but eventually he’s going to have to choose a career that will allow him to pay his own bills. He doesn’t get access to the majority of his trust fund from our parents until he’s thirty-five, and he needs to figure out how to support himself before then.”
“And if he chooses to be a starving artist?” I asked.
“Then he’ll starve. Or he’ll hit it big and appreciate the hell out of his success because it required sacrifice.”
“So, when does the gravy train end for Levi?”
“He’s got three years of college left. I told him I’d cover him until then. If he decides to take longer, he’s going to be on his own dime.”
“You sound like his father, not his brother.”
The muscle ticked more visibly. “Because I’ve been both for over a decade.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“That’s not up for discussion. If you’re done here, I’ll show you a room.” He strode out of the kitchen. And that was apparently how Titan ended a conversation.
I tightened the belt on my robe and followed him. I wasn’t sure where I expected him to take me, but it wasn’t up the curving staircase and into a room that was sage green, gold, and white. It was altogether too fine for the likes of me.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Titan gestured to an open door. “There’s an en suite bathroom. It should be stocked with anything you need. Did you leave your bag downstairs? In the pool room?”
I shook my head. “No bag. Wait, no. I left my purse on a chair in the foyer.”
Titan’s attention held on me. “You didn’t even pack a bag? So, whatever chased you out of that house scared the hell out of you, didn’t it?”
I stilled in my survey of the room. It wasn’t any of his business, and I wouldn’t share. But my skin prickled again at the thought of the glass in the dish rack. “I . . . I just wanted to get out. I don’t need much anyway. I’ll be fine. I’ll change at work when I get there.”
“And what makes you think you’re going to feel safe at your place tomorrow when you go back there and no one has checked it out?”
He had a point, one I hadn’t considered yet because I’d been too busy running, then swimming, then . . . Heat edged out fear at the memory of my cheek pressed to the cool granite countertop as Titan—
I shook it off. Not happening again. Besides, I had more important things to worry about than Lucas Titan.
“I’ll have someone meet me there tomorrow to check it out.”
“Fine,” he said, nodding. “I’ll get your purse.”
He turned on his heel, leaving me in the delicately feminine bedroom, uncomfortably aware that I didn’t belong here, despite the delicious soreness settling between my legs.
Lesson learned from Mama: You could fuck a rich man, but that didn’t mean you’d ever be welcome in the big house. Better never to set foot inside the door.
But I wasn’t a goddamn mistress. I’d never take that path.
Turning away from the door, I studied the bedroom. White lace hung from the windows, and a sleigh bed carved with roses and lilies dominated much of this side of the room. What looked like an antique divan, side chairs, and table made up a small sitting area near the wide bay window. An armoire matching the sleigh bed sat alongside a vanity table.
The room was incredibly ladylike, and it seemed completely at odds with Titan’s overly masculine nature. It must have been like this when he moved in. I couldn’t imagine him choosing any of this. Or maybe it was the work of an interior decorator?
I had very little time to explore before he reentered the room, my purse in hand. The big teal number looked ridiculous in his grip, and I might have imagined it, but he looked slightly amused as he handed it over.
“Thank you.” I set my bag on the bed and had just shoved my hand inside it when he stepped up behind me.
He bent low, speaking into my ear. “You need anything else, I’m right next door.”
I stilled as he leaned against me, the already growing bulge in his pants pressing against the crack of my ass.
Ignore, Yve. Ignore.
My eyes shot to the closed door on the far wall of the room as something dawned on me. This was the suite designed for the mistress of the house, back when husbands and wives slept in separate rooms and the husband visited the wife at night for his marital relations.
He should have put me in the servants’ quarters.
Titan must have followed my glance to the door, because he added, “It’s locked. From your side. Feel free to join me anytime. I’ll be hard as fuck, thinking about taking you in the kitchen.”
His raw words held no subtlety, and neither did the hand that gripped my waist and slid around to the front of the robe.
I could have jerked away, but when his palm slipped inside and covered my breast, I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to breathe. I should hate his touch, but slickness gathered between my legs and would have made me a liar.
“Are you wet for me again, Yve? Are you thinking about how good it felt to have my dick stretching your tight little pussy?”
“I hate you,” I murmured, pressing my ass into his erection and my breast into his palm.
His hand slid lower, fingers splaying out over me. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”
I swallowed back my moan, but couldn’t fight the urge to rock against his hand. My clit was already sensitive, and rubbing against his palm put me right back on the edge within moments. But before I could come, he pulled his hand away and jerked back.
Shameless, I spun around, robe hanging most of the way open. “What the hell, Titan?”
“You want more, Yve? You come to me.”
He strode to the threshold and shut the door behind him. The click barely echoed, but his words repeated through my brain over and over, along with my conclusion from earlier. Lucas Titan is dangerous.
I needed to put what had happened out of my
head. Never to be repeated. Ever.
But when I slid naked between the ridiculously soft sheets of the bed, I could think of nothing but Titan. So was it any surprise that I dreamed of him?
No, the surprise was that I wished my dreams had been only of him, rather than peppered with flashes of the man who still haunted me.
“SO YOU DECIDED TO FEND for yourself, but couldn’t manage to put it away when you were finished,” Jerome observed as he tossed the hummus in the trash. No matter how old I was, Jerome could always make me feel like I was sixteen again and had tracked muddy footprints all over a clean floor.
I had no excuse to give the old man; I’d been too caught up in Yve to remember to put the food back in the fridge.
“Actually, it wasn’t for me. It was for someone else,” I replied absently, wondering whether the woman in question would venture out this morning.
Why was I so fascinated with her? Apparently a sexy-as-hell body plus a disrespectfully sassy mouth were all it took to get my attention lately. I smiled to myself at the thought of her telling me to shut up and fuck her.
The smile instantly turned to a frown when my dick flexed in my pants, and Jerome’s faded blue gaze snapped to mine. Not the time or place for that thought.
He lifted one shaggy gray brow. “Care to elaborate?”
“An unexpected houseguest arrived last night.”
“And why do I assume you’re not talking about the snake I found in the laundry room this morning?”
“Because I rarely offer food to snakes.”
We both heard the creaking in the ceiling that signaled someone moving around upstairs. In an old house, even though the walls and ceilings were thick, it was almost impossible not to step on something that would creak and give away your location. Levi had learned that the hard way when he was home on breaks from boarding school, and after he’d been kicked out of enough of those, military school.
“It seems your houseguest is still here.” When the front door opened and shut, he amended wryly, “Or was here.”
What the hell? Yve was just going to sneak out? I checked my watch. It was only just after seven. Perhaps she thought her exit wouldn’t be noticed? She didn’t realize that normally I was at the office by now, and I was altering my routine to figure out what to do with her.