At this point, I was ready for my IV drip of the effervescent liquid. It wasn’t as good as the wine that came from our family vineyard in France, obviously, but it would do in a pinch.
Devlin eased me to my feet beside the table, so we could share yet another toast. I noticed the floral arrangement that sat right next to the bucket of champagne and a plate of chocolate truffles. They were dark roses, like before, but in a bouquet of only thirteen. I gestured to the vase with one hand. “Going from fifty roses to thirteen? What’s a girl to think?”
He grinned as he popped the cork on our champagne. “Clearly you don’t know the language of roses.”
My eyebrow arched. “I didn’t know they spoke.”
“They say everything,” he said as he handed me my glass.
“And what do these say?”
He chuckled. It was a rich, low sound that reverberated over my senses. “Roses speak in two specific languages, color and number. Thirteen roses mean you have a secret admirer,” he winked.
I laughed. “Not so secret.” I gently caressed a silky petal of the dark red flower. “And the color?”
He caressed my face in much the same manner. “Dark red symbolizes unconscious beauty. And someone like you should have dark roses delivered every day for the rest of your life.”
I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. “You know, you do your fantasy a disservice when you say such things.”
His eyes drifted to mine. “How so?”
“Because the minute you say them, I’m reminded that I’m paying to hear them. Defeats the purpose. I mean, let’s face it. If I hadn’t hired you, you could have passed me in the street and never looked twice.”
He took a deep breath before he lifted me up onto the table and fit himself in between my legs. “If that’s what you truly think, then you’re selling yourself as short as your father and Oliver both do.” His finger trailed across my jaw. “As a matter of fact I do find you attractive, and would have probably found a way to approach you in that bar, even if we hadn’t planned to meet.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I let him do the talking, because it all sounded so good.
“You may not see what I see, but I haven’t missed one detail, Coralie. I love how light your eyes are, in contrast to your dark hair. I love the smooth, graceful curve of your face, which looks like it was carved out of ivory.” He trailed his finger down along my neck towards my shoulder. “I love the softness of your skin, so supple and cool against my fingers.” His finger traced the neckline of my revealing dress. “And my God. Your tits could stop traffic.” He cupped my breast in his hand and squeezed for emphasis.
I couldn’t stop my gasp if I wanted to. His focus returned to my face, where he brushed a thumb over my full bottom lip.
“Look at this mouth,” he murmured. “So luscious and so sexy. Sweet to taste,” he said before he kissed me softly. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking of what it would look like wrapped around my cock. I’ve dreamed about it,” he admitted, before whispering, “I’ve dreamed about you.”
I shuddered a bit as I felt his body jump against mine. He grabbed my hand and held it against his growing erection. “This is what happens when I kiss you, when I touch you, when I think about fucking you. I’ve been waiting to get you alone all night. All week,” he amended. “And you doubt that I find you attractive?”
My mouth dried up. I could barely speak as I answered. “It’s all part of the fantasy, right? I’m paying you to have sex with me.”
His mouth curved into smirk. “No. You’re paying me to accompany you to a wedding. I’m choosing to fuck you, Coralie.”
Another shudder. “Devlin.”
His hands slid up my bare legs, all the way up under my skirt, not stopping until he had cupped my ass in both hands to press me against his hardening body. “You don’t know what it means to be desired, and that’s a goddamned shame. But by the end of this week, you’ll never question it again.”
He crushed his mouth on mine for a commanding, possessive kiss. His need was urgent, whether it was part of the fantasy or not. His hand wound in my hair, tangling his fingers and grasping hard, tugging my head backwards so that he could explore the sensitive nape of my neck. He pressed himself against me and I found myself grinding against him in return, suddenly frustrated by all the clothes that stood between us. I made quick work of his belt and the fastener and zipper on his pants, pulling them down so his hard dick could spring forward at last.
“Take it in your hand,” he commanded against my ear. “Feel how hard it is for you.”
I did as he asked, and he was right. It was rock hard. It made me melt against him as I searched for his mouth with mine. This time I deepened the kiss as I gently caressed him, squeezed him and tormented him. He pressed me back against the table, pushing the flowers and the ice bucket out of the way before crashing down on top of me. My legs circled his waist, bringing him in closer, just aching to be filled. I couldn’t stand another minute. “Fuck me, Devlin,” I begged.
He chuckled against my skin. “I don’t think you’re properly convinced I want you,” he said. “What should I do to correct that?” He ran the tip of his tongue along the outer part of my ear. “Should I buy you flowers? Oh wait. I did that.” He trailed his mouth along my neck, taking nips out of my skin. “Should I sing you a song? Hum, I think I did that too.” His tongue blazed a trail of fire down over my shoulder and across my chest, dancing closer and closer to my full breasts that practically swelled out of my dress to reach for his inquisitive mouth. “Should I steal your panties, keeping them in my pocket like a little trophy, so we both know I can touch you, or taste you, or fuck you, with nothing more than a swift hike of your skirt?”
My head fell back as he pulled my dress down by its straps, releasing my heaving breasts at last. The cool air sent a sharp volt to my core. “Should I finger-fuck you in public, every chance I get, to make you come hard, and repeatedly, so that you will beg for my cock?”
His hand disappeared between my legs and I gasped as his fingers easily found their target. There was no preamble. His nimble fingers worked instant magic as his mouth latched on one hardened nipple. He was relentless until I was bucking against him. I couldn’t help but cry out.
He rose up to watch me squirm. “Scream,” he commanded. “Scream like you mean it. Scream like you want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way he had teased me relentlessly all night. Maybe it was the fact that I knew he could make good on his promise. But I screamed my bloody head off as I rocketed off into outer space.
He fetched another condom from his pocket before he kicked his pants free. “Tell me you want me, Coralie,” he said as he prepared himself.
I didn’t even have to stop to think about it. “I want you, Devlin,” I responded.
“Make me believe it,” he said as he positioned himself. My eyes widened as I stared up at him. How could he even question it? “Let’s face it. It’s all part of the fantasy. If it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else, right? If you hadn’t found me on some website, you probably would have passed me on the street without looking twice. Maybe you already have,” he suggested. “It’s not like someone like you would ever seek out or notice someone like me.”
My eyes met his. I realized suddenly what he was doing. What a smooth character. I snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him down for an explosive kiss. He clutched me to him just as tightly. “Tell me you want me,” he repeated against my lips.
“I want you,” I breathed. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
He raised both of my arms over my head, securing both wrists with one large hand. Without breaking our gaze, he finally eased himself inside of me, spreading me open just like a flower with his pulsating, rock hard dick. “Feel how much I want you, Coralie,” he murmured. My eyes fluttered shut, but he wasn’t having any of that. “Look
at me.”
I opened my eyes and promptly got lost in that intense gaze. His eyes consumed me as he thrust himself slowly and deliciously inside of me. For long moment he said nothing. He simply watched my face, using every single widened eye or unconscious gasp as a roadmap on how fast to take it, how deep, or how hard. From the look in his eyes, I could see he was controlling himself. There was something unbridled there, something raw and just barely restrained. I shuddered against him as I imagined how it would be if he ever truly let loose. I’d probably walk bow-legged for a week.
And yet, my body responded to the idea. I wanted to be possessed totally and completely by this man. My ankles locked behind his hips to urge him on. I was rewarded by the gasp that escaped his lips. “Fuck me, Devlin,” I instructed, much more brazenly than I had ever before dared. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
He shook his head. “You’re not ready for that, darlin’. Not yet.”
I whimpered slightly as he held me bound against the table, his hips steady and sure with each rhythmic stroke. “Please,” I begged.
“You want to feel it?” he asked and I bobbed my head. He captured my hard nipple between his teeth, gently biting just to the point where pain and pleasure collided. I gasped and arched my back against him. I teetered right on the precipice, and he seemed wholly uninterested in bringing a quick end to my agony. Instead he’d speed up his movements to bring me right to the brink, and then slow down once again to take his time with long, luxurious strokes. I’d have been clawing at the table had my hands been free. “This is what it means to be wanted, Coralie,” he told me. “To be with a man who needs to be inside of you, who takes his time because he just doesn’t want it to end… who wants to see you get all the attention and the fulfillment you deserve. I’m not doing it because I have to. I’m doing it because I want to. I want you.”
I didn’t think I could stand it anymore. “Then show me,” I begged.
“Are you sure?” he said.
I nodded. I had never been surer of anything. I needed him. I wanted him. And I needed him to want me too. It no longer mattered how or why.
He released my hands so that he could prop my legs up with both of his hands. He angled himself deep and true before he sped up his thrusts, slow at first, then faster and faster until he was pumping himself inside of me. This time he didn’t have to ask me to scream. I hollered loud as I clawed the table, which sat mere feet away from the main door of our suite. My fevered brain realized that we barely made it ten feet before we were all over each other.
It was every fantasy I’d ever had come true.
And now he was ramming himself inside of me. All his dialogue went right out the window, replaced with primal grunts and gasps as he stared into my face. His face contorted the closer he got to his own climax. I found myself begging for him to come. I wanted him to lose control. And I wanted to be the reason why.
He fucked me so hard that the glass table crackled and creaked underneath us, so much so that I was afraid it might shatter before he was done. He lifted his weight off of me to stand upright, holding my legs open as he pistoned himself inside of me, his eyes darkened and dazed. “God, Coralie,” he mumbled before he finally tipped over the edge with a mighty cry. After a couple of deep, steadying breaths, he finally fell forward to land on top of me for yet another kiss. He grabbed my hair with both hands and forced me to look him in the eye. “Never question what I say again,” he commanded softly. “Or else next time I might have to punish you.”
I trembled at the thought. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I murmured.
“I never do,” he responded. He kissed me again, and I felt his softening body jump within mine. I clutched him tighter inside, which made him moan. “You keep that up and you won’t be able to sit all week.”
With an evil grin, I squeezed him again. He eased himself out of me in order to pick me up and carry me, still half-clothed, to the whirlpool bath for Round Two.
We hadn’t slept much by the time the sun rose on Las Vegas that following morning. And he was right; I could feel his imprint in my body every single time I moved. After our bubble bath, he had insisted that I stay naked, and the light stayed on, for the rest of our sexy time in the bedroom. He took his time exploring my body with his mouth and his tongue, making me absolutely crazed for him until I was begging him to fuck me again and again. He met each plea, and demand, with enthusiasm. I rewarded him with a thorough investigation of his body in return. By the time dawn peaked through the curtains in our bedroom, there wasn’t one square inch of our bodies the other didn’t know intimately.
If the first night of our epic week-long adventure was any indication, I was likely to have more sex in seven days than I’d had in almost twenty-four years. And yet it still wasn’t enough. When I woke to find him dozing next to me, his arm draped possessively across my waist, I couldn’t stop myself from straddling him and waking him up with strategically placed kisses. His large hands spread across my hips as he guided me against him. “Good morning to you too, beautiful,” he grinned. “Didn’t you get enough last night?”
I shook my head as I bent for another kiss. “Did you?”
His hand cupped my breast, squeezing it firmly. “I could never get enough of you, darlin,’” he promised. “So goddamned sexy. It isn’t fair.”
I chuckled. I didn’t bother questioning the words he said. No matter how good of an actor he was, I was pretty sure that no man could go through the sex marathon we had with someone he didn’t find attractive. It emboldened me as I rode him shamelessly, arching my back, playing with my breasts as he buried himself inside of me. Normally it would have made me subconscious for anyone to watch me in such a brazen display of wantonness, but the way those darkened eyes inhaled me made me feel sexier than I had ever felt in my life. I was liberated enough to let my own hand disappear between our bodies, to rub my clit until I was coming hard on top of him, unabashed and unashamed to take equal pleasure in our lovemaking. Just watching me was enough to take him over the edge, which made me feel even sexier.
In the shower we took our time cleaning each other, in between deep kisses and intimate caresses. I decided to get back at him for his teasing me the day before. I stroked his glorious cock until he was ready to explode, and then pulled back with an evil grin. “All day, I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you the second I get you alone tonight.”
This backfired big time when he decided to do likewise. He sat me on the bench in the shower, where he proceeded to clean me intimately with his tongue, but stopped just short of another mind-blowing orgasm. That it had excited him to the point he had to stuff his semi-hard member into his trousers made the torment worthwhile. We weren’t just teasing each other, we were teasing ourselves. It only made thing even hotter.
We could barely keep our hands off of each other as we headed downstairs for breakfast with Lucy and Gus, who likewise pawed at each other in between kisses and innuendo. “So I take it everyone had a great night,” Gus grinned as he toasted us with, yes, you guessed it–more champagne.
Devlin glanced at me where I sat in the chair next to his, his arm draped possessively along my back. “Best night I’ve had in quite a while,” he murmured.
Again, I knew better than to question.
Lucy watched the interaction with interest. I knew she couldn’t wait to get me alone, and of course, I was right. By the time breakfast had ended, the boys headed out to the tuxedo shop to get fitted for their tuxes, so they would be ready by the wedding that was now only days away.
The minute they were out of earshot, Lucy swung around to me. “Okay, slut. I want all the dirty details.”
I laughed as we walked together from the restaurant. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“A lady also doesn’t hire a gigolo,” she pointed out. And for some reason, the comment struck a nerve, like a slap in the face to remind me no matter how sexy and desired I felt the night before, this was a relationshi
p built upon pure commerce. Anything beyond that was a pretense. A ruse. My happy balloon popped at once.
Lucy immediately sensed my change in mood. She touched my hand with hers.
“Hey, you know I didn’t mean that, right? You know that stuff doesn’t mean anything to me.”
I nodded. “I know. It’s just…,” I trailed off before sighing. “It’s like pulling the curtain back and realizing the great and powerful wizard is nothing but a regular man pretending to be something else. When I’m with him, I can believe he wants me, and that it’s not based on the fact I paid him a shit-ton of money to fuck me. But you’re right. He’s a gigolo, hired to do exactly that.”
I couldn’t believe that it only took one night for me to lose sight of that. Devlin Masters was good. Really good. I realized then I was going to have to be a lot more diligent to guard myself.
She linked her arm in mine. “I’m pretty sure he wants you, Ceece. You can fake a lot of things, but he does genuinely seem into you. I’ve never seen anyone look at you the way he does.”
I scoffed. She wasn’t helping. At all. “It’s a tool of the trade, Lucy. How much money do you think he’d make if he couldn’t fake stuff like that? Surely he doesn’t find every woman who hires him attractive.”
“He doesn’t have to find everyone attractive to find you attractive,” she pointed out. I let the comment slide without challenging it.
Lucy and I made it to the hotel chapel minutes before noon, to meet with her wedding coordinator, Deidre Starling. The tall, slender woman wore a navy suit and a long strand of pearls around her neck, suggesting she was a woman of class and sophistication. Her smile was flawless and white as she greeted us. “Miss Lyon,” she said as she reached out a hand to Lucy, and then turned to greet me. “Miss Cabot. So lovely to meet you both. How was the first night of your stay?”
Masters for Hire Page 14