My gaze falls on the little cut on his bottom lip from when I nipped him earlier.
“Just remember, after two days, it will be my turn to reciprocate,” he says.
I barely remember what the rest of the cake tasted like.
Chapter 3
Clarissa
“I am not going to marry you tomorrow!” I come barging in the door to James’s home office at eight the next morning with his butler, Henry, following hot on my heels, wringing his hands together in worry. He tried to stop me from going in, told me Mr. Marshall was busy, but I was too focused on my goal to reach the frustrating, controlling jackass to pay any heed to the warning, the tense and strained silence over dinner last night with my father still playing in the back of my mind.
James looks up at the sound of the door banging against the wall, the surprise on his face morphing into pleasure when he sees me standing there, my fists clenched at my sides, my chest heaving, and my face flushed from exertion and anger.
“Excuse us, gentlemen,” he says smoothly to the men sitting in the chairs in front of his desk.
I look over in surprise at the two men that I didn’t even notice were there. They get up simultaneously, collect some papers strewn across the gleaming surface of the mahogany desk, and hasten to leave.
“Thank you, Henry. Please close the door behind you.”
The door closes with a soft click, and I’m suddenly very much aware that I’m alone in his office with him. My anger drains out of me in a rush, leaving me feeling dizzy and light-headed, my stomach churning in nervousness. My gaze darts around the office, taking in the subtle tones and the understated, minimalist décor as James stands from his chair behind the desk and stalks closer to where I’m still standing in front of the now closed door.
Each step he takes as he prowls toward me with his predatory, hungry eyes never wavering from my face has me taking a step back until I’m backed against the wall with nowhere to go. He leans down with his palms braced flat against the wall, caging me in with his muscular body covered in a navy blue suit that offsets the light blue color of his eyes.
“Ah, my little firecracker. I’m so glad you came to see me. I was afraid this meeting would delay me in coming to you for my morning kiss.”
Before I can protest, he swoops down and claims my mouth in a hot, wet, deep kiss that scorches me to my toes. My brain stops functioning. I moan and wrap my arms around his neck as his lips suckle on my tongue and his hands go to my ass, lifting me so that I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist to keep my feet from dangling off the floor.
He presses me back harder against the door as the huge bulge of his erection pushes into my denim-covered core, the pressure hitting me just where I need it. I gasp, and he tears his mouth away from mine on a ragged groan and starts trailing open-mouthed kisses from my shoulder to just below my ear, all the while grinding and pumping his hard length into the covered, drenched folds of my pussy.
“Did you miss me last night?” he mumbles into my neck as he continues kissing my skin.
I try to catch my breath and regain my senses. “Wait. James, no, wait. I came to tell you—Oh God,” I rasp as he rolls his hips so the underside of his cock rubs over my clit, and even through the layers of our clothing the sensation sends a shiver through my body.
He lifts his head from my neck and plants another toe-curling kiss on my lips before ordering, “Hold tight to me.”
He pushes away from the door with me wrapped around him and walks over to one of the couches on the other side of the office. He sits down and places me on his lap so I’m straddling him with my thighs on either side of his.
“Let’s talk about this,” he quietly says.
But I’m too aware of the heavy weight of his cock under me, and I squirm on his lap as a whimper escapes my lips.
“Fuck!” A harsh growl tears from his chest as he suddenly flips me over so my back is on the couch. James comes up on his knees between my spread thighs, looming over my body. His arms are straight, his hands pressed into the cushions of the sofa on either side of my face, making me feel caged in.
“Is my baby’s pussy in need?”
His hand skims down to my jeans, and he opens the button and lowers the zipper before shoving his hand into my panties and skimming his fingers over the lips of my throbbing pussy.
“You’re fucking soaked,” he rumbles.
I don’t stop him as he pulls his hand out then grabs the waistband of my jeans and underwear and pulls them down roughly until they’re bunched around my ankles. His mouth comes down on mine, his tongue spearing through my lips as his hand returns to my sex and he starts rubbing my clit in hard, fast circles.
“Give it to me.” His voice is a guttural sound of need as his hand increases the pressure on my sensitive nub.
My orgasm crashes down on me with the weight of a bulldozer. I arch my back and close my eyes, my fists clenching his hair in a tight hold as the waves roll over me.
When I can finally catch my breath, I open my eyes to see him looking down at me with that half-smile on his face and his blue depths filled with something I’m not ready to acknowledge yet.
James lifts his hand and tenderly brushes the damp hair off my forehead. His eyes grow heavy-lidded, his hands holding my hips tightly to keep me still, and he whispers in my ear, “Now that I have made you come to ease your ache, I have to punish your pussy for leaving me alone and in pain last night.”
I draw back from him in shock, but he’s already moving down my still trembling body as his strong hands grab my inner thighs and push them further apart so I’m stretched open for his gaze.
“James—” My voice is hesitant and uncertain. I feel exposed to him like this, and all my vulnerabilities come rushing to the forefront.
“Did you shave your cunt bare for me?” he asks as his thumbs pull my lips apart and his hot breath wafts over my wet folds. “You have the most beautiful pussy in the world. So fucking gorgeous, all pink and glistening with your juices.”
His tongue licks a broad path from the bottom of my slit all the way up to my clit, and I cry out at the raspy sensation that steals my breath away.
“Fuck, you taste delicious. I’m going to feast on this perfect pussy every damn day from now on.” His hands dig into my thighs to prevent me from moving even an inch as he licks and sucks at my pussy as if he’s ravenous and it’s his first meal in a decade.
I reach the peak in a rush, but just as I’m about to go over James stops licking and starts to press light kisses on my inner thighs to bring me down.
“No!” I whimper and writhe beneath him, but he holds me tight and then resumes with his tongue flicking against my clit vigorously before he once again halts and gently suckles at it, the pressure not enough for me to come. He does this twice more until I’m panting with need, my body slick with sweat and strung tight.
“Please, James. Let me come,” I beg in a voice hoarse from shouting because he denied me again and again.
“Will you marry me?” His tongue dips into my pussy before he pulls it out to lash at my clit.
I am too far gone with need and pleasure to register his words. “Yes! Yes, I will do anything. God, just—” I twist my fingers into his hair and push his face down more firmly to get him to give me some relief.
He resists and pulls his mouth away from my pussy, his chin soaked in my juices and his lips glossy. He uses the flat of his palm to strike my pussy with a resounding slap before his lips wrap around my clit and he sucks hard.
“Come.” That one-word command sends me reeling over the cliff. Lights flash behind my tightly clenched eyes, and then suddenly everything goes black.
When I come to, James is holding me in his arms as he sits in the chair behind his desk, his nose nuzzling into my hair, his hands tenderly brushing up and down my back. I look down to see that I’m completely dressed again.
“My little firecracker.” He leans down and softly kisses my lips, and I taste the slig
ht musk of my arousal still lingering on his tongue. It makes me blush, and he chuckles before he uses his forefinger to lift my chin up to meet his gaze. “I want you to marry me. It has nothing to do with your father and his company. This is between you and me.”
I look into his solemn, light blue eyes, glimpse the naked yearning there that he does nothing to hide, and feel as if I am free-falling from a great height. “But we don’t know anything about each other.” My protest is weak and I know it, but my heart and my mind are at war with each other, and I don’t know how to make sense of the emotions inside me.
“I know I have never felt this way about anyone before. I spent all my life with my business as my only priority. You make me want more. More from life, with you by my side.”
“Marriage is such a huge step. Shouldn’t we try dating first? I don’t know, spend some time together before deciding if we want to do something so-so permanent.”
I’m so unsure of all of this. I never even dated in college, too focused on trying to impress my father with good grades to pay any attention to boys. What James did to me on his couch was the first time someone besides myself made me come. And more than once. Just thinking about it makes my face heat up.
“Why wait when this feels right? We’re going to make it together, baby. And it will be a beautiful journey. You’ll see.” He kisses me lightly below my ear then buries his face in my neck, taking a long inhale, his chest expanding and brushing against my pebbled nipples.
“I-I’m scared.”
He raises his head and looks at me, his gaze soft and sweet. “I know, firecracker. But don’t be. I’m never going to let you go.” His arms wrap tighter around my back, and he squeezes me closer.
I rest my head on his shoulder, too tired to hold it up. The strength and the promise in his words soothe me and make me fall a little more, a little harder than I already have. “Okay,” is my only response as I let myself go, my body sinking further into his solid heat and reassuring warmth.
The wall around my heart suffers another crack when I hear him let out a sigh of relief and softly whisper, “Thank you.”
Chapter 4
Clarissa
The sound of my cellphone ringing wakes me up from a peaceful dream. Yesterday, after our talk, James insisted I take a nap on the couch in his office while he worked so he could keep an eye on me. Then he woke me up for a simple, delicious lunch on his terrace before taking me to my house with a goodbye kiss that felt more like a vow of things to come. When I came back, I couldn’t find Dad anywhere so I decided to use the free evening to add another chapter to the novel I’m currently working on.
James doesn’t know about my passion for writing, and I’m afraid to tell him. My father never understood that writing is more than just a hobby to me. That when things around here get too tough, those emotions poured into words, those stories that come to life on a piece of paper or my computer screen, allow me to escape into a safe haven of my own making. After I graduated college, I wanted to put all my focus into writing, but a few months have passed and I’m still no closer to shoring up the courage to approach a publisher about the novel I’ve completed.
I groggily reach for my phone on the nightstand and put it to my ear without looking to see who is calling.
“Good morning, my little firecracker.” James’s voice comes over the line.
“James, it’s freaking seven o’clock in the morning!” I yell as I look over at the clock on the nightstand. “Why are you calling me so early? The sun isn’t even up yet,” I grouse and burrow my head under the pillow, trying to block the rays of light infiltrating my bedroom from the window.
A husky chuckle in my ear has my lips begrudgingly curling upward. Damn that man. Even his laugh at the butt crack of dawn sounds sexy.
“I see you’re not a morning person, baby.”
I grumble in agreement.
“I wanted to tell you that I’ve sent some stuff for you to the house. There will also be people coming to help you get ready, so let them in at ten. I’ll see you at the chapel. Don’t keep me waiting.” And with that, he hangs up, leaving me wide awake and jumping out of bed to rush through my morning routine.
I can’t believe today is my wedding day. I can’t say I’m not scared, but I know in my heart I’m doing the right thing. It isn’t to save my father’s company and secure the jobs of all the employees; James has assured me they are all safe and I believe him. It’s the way he makes me feel, as if I’m something precious he can’t live without. The constant touches, the caring, the possessiveness—I’m falling for him. He makes me feel wanted, no, needed in a way no one has ever been able to. He needs me. And I’m starting to think I need him too.
When I get downstairs I see Dad sitting at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. He doesn’t look up when I enter, so I get orange juice from the fridge, pour it in a glass, and quietly sit down across from him. We don’t usually have many conversations at mealtimes, or any other time for that matter, so I’m surprised when he calls my name. I look up to see him looking at me with a tight-lipped expression on his face.
“I want you to know that I think James is a good match for you. He has a lot of money. He will keep you happy,” he says, then goes back to reading his newspaper like nothing is wrong.
I sigh. It always comes back to the money for him. My father measures the worth of everyone around him in dollar bills, in how full their bank account is. He thinks affection and love can be replaced by cash, and that as long as I have money, I’ll be happy.
“Are you coming to the office today?” he asks as he gets up to leave, his cold words earlier apparently all he had to say on the subject of my wedding.
I tamp down my anger and hurt and reply, “No. James has sent some people here to help me get ready so I will—”
“Yes, yes. Well then, I will see you soon.”
I watch as he turns and leaves the room without a backward glance.
The rest of the morning is spent in a flurry of activity from the moment I open the door of my house to let in the small army of professionals that arrive. Time speeds by as I choose a dress from the selection they’ve brought and then it’s on to makeup, hair style, jewelry, and shoes. By the time the limousine James sent to pick me up is on its way to the church where the wedding will take place, I haven’t had a moment’s time to myself, and my stomach is a jumble of nerves.
My father is standing at the entrance of the church and ushers me inside as soon as I exit the vehicle. I stand at the doors to the chapel, my hand resting on my father’s stiff arm, listening to the sounds of soft music and chatter coming from inside. When the doors open and I look up, my gaze clashes with James’s eyes, blazing with emotion, as he turns to look at us, and the world silently dissolves around me.
The wedding passes by in a blur, but the moment that will be forever etched in my memory is when the minister pronounces us man and wife and James turns to me, leans down, and places a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips before whispering against them a word filled with tenderness, hunger, and possession.
“Mine.”
* * * *
The reception is held in the ballroom of a grand, luxurious hotel, which is beautifully decorated in soft shades of blue. I don’t know how James knew blue is my favorite color since I don’t remember telling him, but I really appreciate everything he’s done to try to make this day perfect for me.
We greet the guests as we move around the room, most of whom are James’s business associates. James doesn’t let me move more than an inch from his side, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist.
“Baby, I want you to meet Brandon Stone, my best friend and head of security,” James says as a tall, dark man with broad shoulders and a muscular build comes up to where we are standing.
I’m a little taken aback by the hard expression covering his face, but I automatically lift my hand to shake his as I say, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Before our hands can
make contact, my wrist is snatched back and held securely in James’s other hand as he glares at the man standing in front of us. Brandon’s mouth lifts into a half-smirk, and I roll my eyes and look away, my cheeks heating in embarrassment.
“Julia is going to be here next month. I want her security detail to be with her at the airport,” James says to Brandon.
I know Julia is his only sister, and she’s younger than him by nine years. He told me she was studying abroad but she graduated a year early with honors and is now coming back. He apologized that she couldn’t make it to our wedding because her semester exams were going on. We talked on the phone the other day when I went to his office, and she seemed like a really sweet and genuine person, so I’m excited to meet her.
“Julia is coming?” Brandon’s terse question brings me out of my thoughts. He clears his throat and then murmurs, “I’ll take care of it,” before turning to leave, his shoulders tense.
James and I walk over to the bridal table set up at the front of the room, and he takes a seat before pulling me down on his lap. I can feel several pairs of eyes on us, and a blush creeps up my neck. I squirm and try to get up to sit in my own chair, but James growls and pulls me tighter so that my back is pressed into his chest and my legs are draped over his. I give up on trying to escape the death grip he has on me and look around, seeing the employees from my father’s company scattered around the room, drinking champagne and mingling with each other.
When I was in college I spent my summers doing internships at the company, and I got to know all the employees very well. I felt like we had created a small family, and it always gave me a sense of security and comfort whenever I went to the office rather than staying at home alone. I’m really pleased James was thoughtful enough to invite all the people who made me feel so welcome.
Robert comes up to us to offer his congratulations. I get up to hug him, but James wraps his arms around me from behind and holds tight, not letting me move forward. Robert sees the movement and laughs in understanding.
Bound to Him (Alphamen in Suits Book 1) Page 2