Under His Obsession

by Cathryn Fox

  “Your vacuum hates me.”

  “Vacuums can’t hate, and it’s brand-new. You broke the last one, remember?”

  “I remember.” She plants a hand on one hip and sticks it out. “Then why won’t it turn on?”

  “I don’t know. How about I look at it later?”

  “Why not right now?”

  “Because right now I’m thinking about all the ways I need to reprimand you for breaking the first one.”

  Her mouth goes slack, and her chest rises and falls at her fast intake of breath. “Oh, I see. Don’t let me interrupt you, then.” She makes a move to go, but stops when I push from my chair.

  “Want to get out of here? Go for a drive, get some fresh air?”

  “And ice cream?”

  That brings a smile to my face. “Sure, we can get ice cream.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  “I...uh...think you might want to get changed first.”

  She glances down and laughs. “Good catch.”

  “Khloe.” Christ, I sound like I’ve just swallowed sand.

  “Yeah.”

  I scrub my face. “You don’t have to wear that around here. You can wear whatever you want. Yoga pants. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

  What are you doing, dude?

  Being the goddamn gentleman I should have been from day one.

  She blinks up at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah”

  “But the rules...”

  “We can write new rules.”

  “We could...” She sticks one leg out and her skirt lifts to reveal the garter belt holding up her stocking.

  Whoa.

  She makes a soft, throaty noise that instantly takes me back to yesterday afternoon, and all the little moans I pulled from her. “I’ve grown rather fond of these suits, actually.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” I grumble.

  “Then it’s settled.” She straightens, and her beautiful tits jut out. “I’ll continue to wear them.”

  “And I’ll continue to be rock hard all day long.”

  She grins and magically pulls a feather duster out from behind her back. “I think I missed a spot.” She bends down, points her ass directly at me, and swipes at some imaginary spot of dust on the baseboard. I have zero control over the hungry growl that crawls out of my throat.

  “Sir, is there something wrong?” she asks.

  “I just asked if you wanted to get out. Bending over isn’t conducive to that plan.”

  “Oh, I apologize, sir.”

  My dick thickens. “Actually, since you have that duster in your hand. I think I do have a spot on my desk that needs some attention.”

  “Of course.” She walks across the room, my gaze latched on the sexy sway of her hips. “Oh, yes, I see it right here.”

  She leans over my desk and concentrates on a spot, all the while gifting me with an up-close view of her gorgeous tits.

  I stand, circle the desk and grip her waist. She yelps as I spin her, lift her from the floor and set her ass on my desk. I cup her chin, press my thumb to her lush lips, and since kissing is off the table, I slide my thumb inside her mouth. She sucks on me, and the sweet sensations wrap around my dick. Her legs envelop me, and she pulls me against her until she’s pressed against my cock. She’s so goddamn hot between her legs, my mouth waters for a taste.

  I reach around my back, lock my hands on her ankles and remove her legs. She whimpers, but I step back, take one foot and brace it against my stomach. Her breathing changes as I run my hand along her thigh and unsnap the garter holding up the lace.

  “What are you doing, sir?” she asks, and I love the role she’s playing.

  “We’re going out, and you can’t go out dressed like this. You’re so goddamn sexy it will draw attention, and I like to keep a low profile, as you know.”

  “I do know.”

  “I thought I’d help you out of these clothes. That is, if you want me to.”

  “Oh, I do. I do,” she says quickly, and I love her enthusiasm.

  I grip the band and slowly roll the lace down, tossing it away. I repeat the motion with the other leg, and step back to admire the woman before me. Her dark eyes are ablaze, her thighs wide.

  I’ll never look at that desk the same way. I step around her and clear my desk, my hands shaking with need. She’s practically quivering when I circle back, widen her legs even further and position myself in between them. I cup her breasts, run my thumbs over her nipples until they’re poking through the thin black material. She shivers.

  Her hands lift, but I grab her wrists and place them at her sides. “Keep them here. Only I get to touch. That’s your punishment.”

  “Yes...sir.”

  I unzip her outfit from the back, and it falls to her waist, showcasing those gorgeous full tits.

  “Fucking beautiful,” I grumble, and give her shoulder a light nudge until she’s flat out on my desk, spread wide open, mine for the taking. I push the skirt up, exposing a flimsy pair of lace panties. With the pad of my thumb, I brush her clit through the material, and her whimper curls around me, tugs at my cock.

  “Ever been fucked on a desk?” I ask, pretty sure of her answer.

  “No.”

  “You want to be?”

  “So much...”

  I chuckle at that, and in one fast movement tear the lace from her hips.

  “Oh God,” she moans.

  “So pretty,” I say, and bend forward to lick her. Her hips writhe restlessly as her heat reaches out to me. She’s so damn responsive, it fucks with me in the strangest ways.

  I suck on her clit and slowly slide a finger into her tight channel. She clamps around me. “Look at you, so needy and wet and ready for me.”

  “Yes...” she murmurs and tosses her head from side to side.

  I stroke her until she’s whimpering, but I don’t make her come. I want to be inside her, to feel her contractions around me. I push my shorts to my knees, and she goes up on her elbows, watching as I tear open a condom.

  “I want to do it,” she says.

  “Yeah?”

  “Please, sir.”

  I take her arm and sit her up. “Make it fast, okay?”

  Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as her small hand takes hold of me. Her soft fingers glide over my shaft as she fits me with the rubber, and I curse under my breath.

  “That wasn’t so hard.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, not hard at all.” I nudge her a little. “Go back on your elbows so you can watch.”

  Her breath catches, and the excitement in her eyes thrills and infuriates me. I’d like to hunt her ex down and punch him. It pisses me off that he never properly cared for her in the bedroom. Then again, I kind of like it that I’m the guy giving her lessons and letting her explore her body and fantasies. Yeah, I like that a lot, and I want to make this great for her.

  I rub my crown over her clit, get it nice and wet. Her moans vibrate through me, and the heated look in her eyes is a thing of beauty. “You like the idea of that, Khloe.”

  “Yes,” she moans. “I want to watch.”

  I press my head to her opening and give her an inch.

  “More,” she says.

  I give her more and grip her legs. My fingers dig into her lush thighs as I widen them. I thrust forward, sliding deeper.

  “Will,” she says, “that is so hot.”

  “Yeah, you got that right,” I murmur, a grunt catching in my throat as I clench my teeth. Watching her take every inch of me into her body, watching her watching me...oh yeah, for the rest of our time on this island, this woman is mine. I move, rock into her, my body curling toward hers.

  “No visitors, Khloe,” I say without thinking.

  “What?” she asks, her lids falling closed, ecstasy written all over he
r face.

  “No visitors, for either of us. Just you and me while we’re here, okay?” Christ, why would I want to be with anyone else when this beautiful woman has dropped into my lap. The truth is, in the past I’ve brought a woman to my bed while here, for physical release, but I’ve lost interest in one-night affairs. This three-week affair, where I’m helping a beautiful woman blossom, that’s where it’s at.

  “Okay,” she agrees, and I don’t want to think too hard on how happy that makes me.

  Her hand slides down her body, and she tentatively strokes her clit. Holy shit. My gaze flashes to hers, and for split second I catch the vulnerability in her eyes, the uncertainty. Everything inside me softens.

  “You never touched yourself with your ex, did you?” I ask.

  “No,” she says.

  I slide in and out, and her finger stills. “You like it?”

  She nods.

  “Then keep doing it, because baby, that is so damn hot.”

  Her eyes widen a little. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. Do it, Khloe. Rub yourself. Let me watch.”

  Her finger moves faster, her inhibitions ebbing, and I fuck her the way I think she needs to be fucked. Hard. Fast. Strokes that hit all her hot spots. One of these days I’ll go slow, show her the pleasure in a softer touch. But for right now, we fuck.

  Her gorgeous tits jiggle with each thrust and her ass slides on the desk. I grip her hips, pull her back to the edge of the desk, and let her rub herself a little more. But I need to touch her, too, so I join her, my fingers mingling with hers as I play with her clit, and her gaze flashes to mine. The admiration in her eyes, the appreciation at what I’m doing, the freedom I’m giving her to explore, messes with me a bit.

  She removes her hand, giving me full access, and leans on both elbows. Her head falls back slightly, and I touch her body, learn her likes from her sexy little noises. I change the pressure on her clit, experiment with my touch until I get it just right.

  “Like that, just like that,” she says, and a second later she’s tightening around me, squeezing and milking me as she gives herself over to the pleasure.

  “Khloe,” I groan, and every muscle in my body tightens as I let go. I feel so goddamn happy it’s a little strange. When was the last time I was this happy? I open my eyes to find her staring at me, a smile on her pretty face.

  “Wow,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh. “Sex on the desk wasn’t even on my list. Maybe I should get you to make the list.”

  “I can help you add to it, if you like.” I brush a strand of hair from her face and swipe my thumb over her wet bottom lip.

  “I like,” she says, and we both chuckle. We stay like that for a long time, both basking in the afterglow.

  “Come here.” I pull out of her, quickly discard the rubber and stand back between her still-open legs. “Let’s get you out of this.” I tug at the dress bunched around her hips. “It must be cutting off circulation.” I peel the outfit over her head. “You made the...?” I begin, but my gaze drops to her beautiful breasts.

  “Made the what?” she asks.

  “I can’t remember what I was going to say.” I cup her breasts. “Do you have any idea how beautiful these are?”

  “Breast man, are you?” she jokes.

  “Khloe, with you I’m every kind of man. Ass, legs, breasts...” Her mouth parts slightly. What would she taste like?

  Wait, no. Can’t go there. It’s in the rule book.

  Rule book, right. That’s where I was going earlier, until her beautiful breasts sidetracked me.

  “Did you make your list already?”

  “Yesterday, after we had sex.”

  I shake my head. “I like a girl who gets right at her tasks.”

  “I thought you might.”

  “Oh, you think you know me now, do you?” I say.

  “I watch, learn, listen.”

  While I like to keep a measure of distance from, well, everyone, I’m not as upset as I should be, normally would be, to know she’s been observing.

  “So do I,” I say.

  “I like the way you watch, learn and listen,” she says in a teasing voice.

  “How about tonight I take a look at your list, see if you missed anything?”

  She runs her hand over the top of my desk. “I’m guessing I did.” Her grin is slow, seductive. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”

  “We have lots of time for me to show you,” I say, and make a mental note to talk to Vin before we leave the house.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Khloe

  MY BODY IS blissfully sore, my mind still a bit woozy from that glorious climax, but I’m not complaining. I loved every minute of it. I stretch out my legs in the passenger seat as Will drives us to town. The windows are down, and I breathe in all the fragrant scents from the local foliage and blossoming flowers. I slowly turn my head his way, take in his freshly shaven face. It’s late morning, and he’s dressed in cargo shorts and a T-shirt. He suggested I dress in casual clothes and wear comfortable footwear, yet he never said where we were going. Not that I care. I’d go bungee jumping if it meant getting away from that mutinous vacuum cleaner.

  I sigh contentedly and rest my head against the leather seat. It’s odd how comfortable I am with Will after such a short time. Yeah, okay, so he’s an asshole. At least, according to Steph. Although, outside of scolding me for my appearance and tardiness, he’s been pretty decent. But of course, I can’t forget he admitted he’s a cheater. And when it comes right down to it, I don’t really know him. It’s possible he only took care of me when I was sick because his granddad would kill him otherwise.

  Do you really believe that, Khloe?

  I’m not sure. He did ask me to be exclusive for the next few weeks. I said yes in the heat of the moment, but do I expect him to keep it in his pants? Not really, and I don’t care one way or the other. I have no ownership over him, and vice versa. We’re just having fun. Things will go back to normal when we return home.

  “We’re a long way from New York,” I say, pulling my phone from my bag to shoot a picture, then send it off to Steph. After I’d left James’s mansion, I texted her to tell her about the job. She was both thrilled and worried for me, but I assured her I could handle any entitled millionaire. And handle him I did. I snicker quietly.

  Will’s hand slides across the seat and gives mine a squeeze, and I turn my attention to him as he drives.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sending a picture to my best friend.”

  “Khloe, no one is supposed to know you’re here in Saint Thomas.”

  As his brow furrows, panic invades my gut. Shit, I’d forgotten all about that in the nondisclosure agreement. I wasn’t supposed to give away the location. There’s nothing I can do to get the picture back.

  “I’m sorry, Will. She’s trustworthy. She won’t tell anyone.” Worry creeps into his eyes, and a chill goes up my spine.

  “I understand that, but things have a way of getting out.”

  He’s not wrong about that. “Am I fired?”

  He winks at me. “Not this time, okay. But if you break the rules again...”

  There’s a teasing note in his voice, but beneath it I understand he’s serious. His life had been put under a microscope, and it was a horrible invasion of privacy that resulted in a lot of loss. Yes, he did something wrong, but was it the world’s place to dissect and judge? No. It was no one’s business but his and Naomi’s. It’s certainly none of mine.

  “It won’t happen again, I promise. And I’ll tell her not to share my location.”

  “You’re sure she’s trustworthy?”

  “Yes, best person I know. You’d like her a lot. Not that you’ll ever meet her. I’m just saying—”

  The jerk of his chin cuts off my rambling. “Look
.”

  Up ahead I see two gigantic cruise ships in dock. I sit up a little straighter.

  “My God, those are magnificent. Look at the size of them. How do they even float?”

  “They float because the gravitational force is less than the buoyancy of the upward force.”

  “Ah, okay. I’ll have to take your word for it. I was an English major. If you want to know how to fix a dangling modifier, I’m your girl.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll be sure to remember that. Have you ever been on a cruise?” he asks.

  I shake my head, and a few loose tendrils fall from my ponytail and slide down my neck. His eyes follow, and the hairs on my nape tingle under their appreciation.

  “Nope, never even been out on a sailboat,” I say.

  “Let me guess, motion sickness.”

  I crinkle my nose at him. “Funny, and no,” I say, and in that instant, I realize how different we truly are. But I’m not about to bring up that I had only the basic necessities in life, and unlike the people in his social circle, I never went on elaborate trips, flew in private planes, sailed in fancy boats and cared only about getting richer—no matter who got hurt in the process. I’m not resentful that I never had material things. Hell, I’m a strong, independent woman because of it, and I like who I am. Instead I say, “The opportunity just never presented itself.”

  He arches a brow. “You know I have a sailboat, right?” He points downward. “Right here on Saint Thomas.”

  “How would I know that?” I ask, even though I’m not one bit surprised. The man has everything he wants. Well, except for a wife. Does he still want that? My guess would be no, considering the lifestyle he lives.

  He follows the winding road. “I guess you wouldn’t.”

  “No one knows anything about you, Will. You take privacy to the extreme.”

  “You know why that is, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say, a measure of guilt worming its way through me. I consider the front cover spread again. Yes, Benjamin insists we sensationalize. But the fact is, Will was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. It seems out of character for him, though.

  “I’m sorry about Naomi,” I say.