The Dare

by Lauren Landish

  I do it again with my fingers slowly grinding in and out of her, rubbing her G-spot the way she likes. “No, still not yet.”

  “Ugh, you’re killing me, Wolfe.” The whine of my last name makes me chuckle because I know she’s not mad, but she lifts her hips, putting her pussy back to my mouth in a silent order.

  I let my fingers dance across her center, from her clit to her pussy, gathering her honey. And then I move lower, finding her tight asshole. She clenches against me at first, but I make slow circles with my finger against her ass and my tongue against her clit, and she relaxes into it.

  “Let me in, Elle. You’ve let me into your heart, which is a much riskier thing. I promise to make it feel good.” The dark promise is a low murmur as I keep up my ministrations.

  Slowly, I press in millimeter by millimeter, and she takes my finger into her ass. “Good girl, love. That’s it, relax and let me in your sweet arse. One day, maybe you’ll let me fuck you here too?”

  She clenches tight at my words, and at first, I think she’s revolting against the idea, but then she bucks and I realize that just the thought of me shoving my cock into her ass has her coming. “Fuck . . .”

  I slam my mouth back over clit, sealing tight around her as I suck the nub and batter my tongue against it. All the while, I’m slowly fucking her ass with one finger and dreaming of the day she lets me fuck her there too.

  “Colton!” Her calling out my name as she comes hard feels like the greatest part of my day, and I take no mercy on her. I push her through her first and then straight into another orgasm as I slide the fingers of my other hand inside her pussy to work her G-spot.

  She comes and keeps coming, her pussy soaking me as she quivers. “Fuck, fuck . . . yes . . . don’t you dare stop!”

  I wouldn’t dream of it.

  I’m not sure there’s a count for how many times she comes, more like just a clock ticking away the minutes, but eventually, she goes boneless, sagging into the fluffy bed the way she always does after a good orgasm. I take it as a sign of a job well done on my part. On a sigh, she says,

  “Holy fuck. Unicorn . . . rainbow sprinkles . . . what the . . . new bar.”

  I have no idea what she’s saying, but it all seems good, so I roll with it. “Stay just like that.”

  With her hips lifted on the pillow and legs spread wide to make room for me, I line up with her messy pussy. I balance on one arm, guiding my cock through her cream, but when I slide across her clit, she jerks.

  “Sensitive. Just get inside me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I agree in one heartbeat and thrust into her with the next. Her walls grip me tightly, and I almost start pounding into her fast and hard, chasing my own orgasm that’s so damn close. But I don’t. I ease in and out, slow and steady, feeling every inch of her cling to my cock. “You feel like heaven, love.”

  Her eyes fly open, meeting mine clear and happy. I don’t know that I’ve ever made anyone truly happy, just by being myself. Not like Elle.

  I’ve seen her search for me when she enters a room. She wants to hear what I think and feel and is most attracted to me when we’re doing the silliness of nothing. She’s rare, and I intend to appreciate every bit of time I have with her, praying for more every chance I get.

  Her hands leave their headboard hold and cup my face, keeping my eyes on hers. “I love you, Colton Wolfe.”

  I groan and fall. Into her, into a black abyss of her warmth, into us. It feels good. It feels right. It feels like forever.

  Chapter 29

  Elle

  Last time I’d sat around with the entirety of Colton’s family, it’d been shockingly loud and threat filled. A major contrast to today, where everyone sits primly and properly, as though indifferent strangers.

  Edwin sits at the head of the table once again, his lawyer to one side and Eddie to his other. The posturing seems so painfully purposeful to put Colton at a disadvantage. Colton sits beside the family lawyer, eschewing his brother’s side, which puts Roger, Colton’s attorney, at Eddie’s right.

  And of course, all the women—Mary, Nan, Lizzie, and me—sit in cushy armchairs, in the room but not at the big boys’ table where we can actually be a part of the discussion. It would piss me off, but realistically, this is Colton’s chance to shine and he needs no support. He’s ready for this, and it’s been a long time coming—to go head to head against his father. Finally.

  Edwin begins. “Let’s get this over with. I have more important things to attend to.”

  Of course you do, I think with an eye roll that matches Lizzie’s. Nobody wants to sit around a table when it’s such an obvious admission that you’ve lost your bluff. I swear I see Mary flinch, but Nan seems to be fighting back a small smile at the whole thing. Perhaps being over here isn’t as bad as I thought. At least I can read the room, study reactions as Edwin and Colton handle their business.

  “Of course, Mr. Wolfe.” The family lawyer, a wiry old man with whiskers coming out both his ears and his nose, says obsequiously. He smooths his hands down his suit front and then picks up a stack of papers, tapping them against the table.

  “As we’ve discussed, the trust for this specific property, colloquially known as the Estate, was bequeathed to Master Colton Wolfe upon his grandfather’s demise. As the trust was never enacted subsequent to Colton’s twenty-first birthday, the property fell under the larger family umbrella for management. It is my understanding that Colton would like to pursue his ownership at this time?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hamish. That is correct. It seems I was uninformed as to my rights upon my twenty-first, but effective immediately, I’d like to exercise them for the Estate.”

  Eddie looks to Edwin again, an ugly sneer on his face, which seems to have last been shaved days ago. “Father, do something about this. You promised.”

  “Quiet, Eddie.” Edwin’s hiss is sharp and unexpected. To Eddie, at least, because he plops back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he slouches.

  “Bloody prat, swooping in like a vulture and taking what’s not his.” Eddie pouts and mumbles under his breath, but everyone hears him.

  Colton gives in and addresses Eddie. His eyes are sharp, his tone razor-laced. “If anyone has taken what is not his, it’s you. You’ve spent your entire life as the golden boy just because you were born first—which was no accomplishment on your part, I might add. I am not the black sheep Father has always made me out be, but you are certainly not the saint he paints you as, either. In a way, I pity you because his coddling has resulted in your utter lack of ambition, simply gallivanting about like a sodding fool while his neglect and abuse, in turn, have shaped me into something he never anticipated.”

  Colton’s eyes cut back to Edwin. “Someone who can take him on, challenge his standing, and topple the pedestal he precariously perched himself upon. Because I’m clever, but also because I will work my bloody arse off for it.”

  “Enough!” Edwin bellows, his palms slapping the table. “Let’s get this done without the trip down memory lane. I don’t need your judgement, boy.”

  The lawyers have been sitting quietly, no doubt used to family rows over inheritances. But at the order, they get to work, reading out the paperwork line by line.

  “Initial here and here,” Mr. Hamish tells Edwin. “And you here and here,” he says to Colton.

  Roger confirms Mr. Hamish’s instructions, and Colton reads it as well before initialing. They continue line by line, page by page, delving into thick legalese I’m glad I don’t have to understand. It’s not just that it’s lawyer-speak, but it’s British laws and inheritance formalities, both of which seem seriously complex.

  I watch the whole exchange in horrified wonder. How did it get to be this way? I turn to find Mary with silent tears trailing down her face, but her chin is held high, not caving in.

  I dig in the purse at my feet, having kept it in favor of handing it over to Alfred in case we had to make a quick escape. “Here.” I offer her a tissue. I don’t
pity her, not after the tea fiasco and not when she’s let this inequity between her sons go on unfettered, but it’s simple human kindness to offer a tissue to a crying person.

  She takes it without comment, though I think I see something like shame in her eyes. Perhaps she’s a bit lost on how it got to be this way too?

  Lizzie leans over and whispers to me. “So, Coltie taking over the Estate and building a headquarters here. That means he’s moving home, right?”

  I peel my eyes from the lawyers virtually holding court over the powerhouse men to meet Lizzie’s eyes. “Yes, it does.”

  “And you too?”

  I nod slowly. “Is that okay?”

  Lizzie and I got off to a bit of a rough start, with her thinking I’d be a barrier between her and her beloved brother. But I’d like to think we’ve worked some things out. Encouraging her to stand up to Will and stand up for herself felt like bonding to me. Lizzie is important to Colton, and therefore, she’s important to me. I only hope she can see that.

  “Of course! I’ve always wanted a sister, and damn near anyone would be better than my wanker brother.” Her voice is quiet, but Mary and Nan both hear her.

  Mary breaks into fresh tears again, but Nan reaches over, patting Lizzie’s hand comfortingly. Then Nan looks up and she winks at me. I have no idea what that’s about. The poor woman’s family is virtually imploding around her. I wonder again if she’s either smarter than she seems to be or completely daft, to borrow one of Colton’s words.

  “Are you sure you feel like going out? I know you want to celebrate, but we can stay in if you’d like.” I would honestly be fine with either option, especially because I’m not sure what’s going through Colton’s mind.

  He did it. He took ownership of his family land, which is step one of his proposal for Fox. But whether that comes to fruition or not, and I have every belief it will, he’ll have proven his point to his family that he is a success and be able to live here in London proudly. I know he wants to watch out for Lizzie and Nan, and even Mary, to some degree, though I fear she’s a lost cause.

  “No, I’ve kept you locked away in your castle tower for too long. You deserve to see London.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips, sealing the promise.

  I throw my arms wide. “Not exactly a bare, cold tower for this princess. There are like ten pillows on the bed and room service, you know?”

  “I know, but I have plans for you. Something special.”

  “A surprise?” I know my voice has gone high-pitched, but I can’t help the excitement as I jump around like a toddler dosed with espresso. “Where are we going? What should I wear? Are we going to dinner at Buckingham Palace?”

  Colton laughs, his smile so wide that the dimple I haven’t seen in days pops out. “No, not dinner at the palace. I’m rich and have connections, but that’s a whole different pedigree. I won’t tell you where, but you should definitely wear a dress and heels. Dress for a night on the town.”

  I squeal and run for the bedroom, closing the door. “Don’t peek! I want to surprise you when I’m ready.” I swear I hear him chuckle at my antics, but I don’t care.

  I have a surprise date in London with a British hottie who loves me. Whose life is this?

  Mine! I think, and my feet tap a happy dance into the bathroom so I can hop in the shower.

  I take extra care with my hair and makeup and slide a white dress over my curves and thigh highs. Oh, you can bet I’m wearing those because whatever Colton has planned for tonight, I have plans of my own too. Orgasms. Lots of them.

  I step out to the living room of our suite to find Colton waiting in a dark suit. He looks edible, and I think he feels the same way about me as his eyes devour me.

  “Stunning, love. Truly stunning.”

  I’m struck with an urge to curtsy, but knowing that I’m not particularly adept at it, I fight it. Instead, I glide across the room to Colton and he wraps his arms around me. He leans in for a kiss, but I turn my head.

  “Nope, date first. Don’t mess up my lipstick.”

  I’m teasing, but he growls and kisses my neck, ending with a quick nibble to my ear. “Let’s go.”

  Oliver pulls up to a landmark even I know. The London Eye. A giant Ferris wheel with glass pods offering views over London that can’t be matched.

  Oliver opens the door, and Colton escorts me to the entrance. “Do we need to buy tickets?”

  “Mr. Wolfe. Lovely to see you tonight, sir.” The attendant smiles politely, gesturing for us to follow him.

  I gape at Colton. “Apparently not. What did you do?”

  The doors to a pod open, and I’m blown away. My belly flops like a fish, not at the potential for going high over London, which ordinarily would be a bit scary, but at the sight immediately before me.

  There’s a table set for two right by the glass windows. My hands go to my mouth, zero cares to my carefully applied lipstick now. “Are we having dinner here? I didn’t know they did that!”

  The attendant chuckles. “We don’t, ma’am.”

  Colton nods to the man, and the doors slide shut behind us. Colton takes my hand and leads me to the table, pulling out my chair for me. “Thank you.” He sits across from me, and I can’t take it any longer. “Spill it, Wolfe. What exactly have you done here? Because this is . . .”

  I look around us at the fancy white tablecloth, what seems to be fine china beneath silver domes, white wine already corked, and fresh roses in the middle of the table. Then my eyes trace to the view through the entire surrounding of windows, watching all of London appear before my very eyes. And finally, back to Colton himself.

  “This is amazing.”

  His smile is cocky as shit. He knows he’s blowing my mind. I’m not a girl who needs all the bells and whistles—I mean, we had fun playing putt-putt, for fuck’s sake—but I’m not going to pretend I’m not as giddy as a schoolgirl at this degree of opulence. It might not be needed, but it’s so, so appreciated.

  “It’s nice to know people sometimes. I rented out the entire pod for three revolutions, no interruptions. Just you and me and London. This is my ‘thank you’ for everything.”

  I smile at the deeper meaning to his words, so much tied up in them—our work, our relationship, our future.

  “I mean . . . shit, you could’ve just gotten me a Macy’s gift card, you know. I’m a simple girl.”

  “Miss Stryker, there is nothing simple about you.”

  It’s the best compliment I think I’ve ever gotten. Not because he thinks I’m complicated but because he took the time to figure me out.

  “Shall we?” He pours me a glass of white wine and removes the cloche from my plate, setting it aside.

  We eat and watch the sun get closer to the horizon as Colton tells me bits and stories about London, some anecdotes about buildings here and there, and a bit of British history, which sounds better in his honeyed voice than any history teacher I’ve ever had.

  He opens a small, lidded ice bucket and pulls out a delicate saucer. “What’s that?” I ask curiously.

  Colton sets the dish in front of me. His lips are doing that twitchy thing, and my brow raises in anticipation for another surprise. He removes the lid, announcing, “Pineapple sorbet.”

  My bark of laughter isn’t the least bit ladylike, but Colton seems delighted by it nevertheless. “Plans for a blowie later?”

  “It’s called a jobby. You’ll have to work on your slang if you’re going to move here. But perhaps I’m thinking of how especially sweet you’ll taste on my tongue? You did tell me that pineapples are rather useful both ways, did you not?” Colton licks his lips as if he can taste me already.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” And with that, I scoop a too-big bite into my mouth. A second later, though, I hiss. “Shit, brain freeze!”

  His laugh is one of utter delight at my dorkiness, and he saves me from myself by pulling me to my feet and leading me to the glass. Pressed up against the railing, the windows surrounding me,
I can see everything.

  “That way, far off in the distance, is the Estate. Can you see it?” Colton’s breath is hot on my ear, and I don’t think the Estate is even visible from here. He’s just trying to keep me distracted from the dirty things he’s doing to me.

  His hand slides up my thigh, squeezing my waist in tempo with the kisses he’s trailing down my neck. “I dare you . . . to pull your dress up and let me taste you right here.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “It’s all glass!”

  “So?” Colton steps behind me, his hard cock nestling between my cheeks. I gasp, and his hands guide my hips to grind against him. “You want it too. The thought of being surrounded by glass excites you, doesn’t it?”

  I hum, not agreeing or arguing. “There’s fantasy and reality, though. Very different things.”

  “I’ll be fast. You sucked me off in under fifteen minutes. I can get you off faster than that. We’ll have time before we get back to the ground. No one will be the wiser . . . except we’ll know.”

  Oh, shit. Excitement zings through me, standing every nerve in my body on edge. I still don’t answer, but he knows. He can read me like a book.

  “Bend forward.”

  And so help me, I do. I fold over the railing at the waist, my hands pressed to the glass to help me arch. The chill of the room brushes over the backs of my thighs as Colton pushes my dress up. He groans when he sees the thigh highs, and I silently congratulate myself on the good choice. I sway my hips a bit, trying to rush him.

  I look back to see him dropping to his knees, a god worshiping at my altar with hungry eyes. He pulls my panties to the side, and the first touch of his tongue to my lips feels so good my eyes close.

  “Eyes open. I want you to know where you are the whole time, Elle.”

  I nod, blinking hard before I’m able to focus on the view in front of me. All of London, with Colton between my thighs.