by Selena Kitt
“Don’t assume anything.” Mr. Presumptuous! I had to show him that I had some power. That he couldn’t always fuck me into submission.
We had a stare-off. His intense denim blues and cocky half smile were wearing me down. God, he was sexy and beautiful! My core was buzzing. I wanted him all over me again. Finally, before I caved in, I said, “If you don’t leave this bed, I will.”
“You’re a tough client.” With a roll of his eyes, he climbed out of the bed and nestled into the other one to my left. He turned off the overhead light between us.
“Sweet dreams, Ms. Long.”
“Sweet dreams, Mr. Zander,” I mimicked before drifting off.
* * * *
I’m running through a black tunnel. I can see nothing in front of me, nothing behind me. My legs propel me as fast as they can; my lungs burn. My heavy breaths and footsteps pierce the darkness. I can’t let him find me. I can’t! Suddenly, footsteps thunder behind me. I steal a glance backward; I see nothing, but the footsteps are getting louder and faster; they’re gaining on me. I try to run faster, but my legs won’t let me.
“Nobody steals from Boris Borofsky!” The accented voice booms behind me. “You will pay!”
“No!” I scream silently. I must escape. Oh God, where is the light? Where is the end? Will I always be on the run?
A deafening blast echoes in the endless chamber of darkness. And then another. A bolt of white light scorches through my body. Red-hot liquid streams down my flesh. I keep running. I must keep running! I can never stop running! Oh the pain!
Screaming, I bolted to an upright position. The hot liquid in my dream was now a rush of cold sweat, and it was pouring out of every crevice of my quaking body. Two strong arms wrapped around my drenched torso and pulled me against a slab of rippled, warm flesh.
“Gloria, what is it? Are you okay?” Jaime’s deep, velvety voice filtered into my ear. I let myself sink into him, shuddering against his manly, hard chest. His warmth blanketed me.
I took several deep, calming breaths just like my shrink instructed me to do after one of these the mind-shattering dreams. Words, however, stayed trapped in my throat.
Still holding me, Jaime smoothed my damp, matted hair.
“It’s okay, angel. I’m here. Why are you shaking?”
I moistened my parched palate with my tongue and found my voice. “It was just a bad dream.” My forever nightmare.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” His voice was soft and full of compassion.
“I can’t.” At least right then, I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to confide in this man—to tell him my secret. Though he had shared his scars, mine was still my cross alone to bear-with the exceptions of Kevin, who had lived it, and Madame Paulette, who had taken it to her grave.
“Come on, let’s go back to sleep.” He gently lowered me to the bed, and tucked me back in like a child. He kissed me lightly on the lips before lowering himself next to me.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I whispered.
His beautiful agile fingers traced my face. “Gloria, I’m not going to ravage you. I’m just going to hold you. You need me. Now roll over.”
I did as he asked and felt my body cocooned in his. He draped his arms around me, one hand brushing across my scar. My body softened in his as his heartbeat soothed my soul. For the first time in my life, I truly felt safe. There were so many things this gorgeous man could do to me. And needing him right now was one of them.
“Gloria, you’ve got to learn to trust me. Even with your secrets.” He gently kissed my head. “Now, sleep, my angel. I’ve got a big day planned for us tomorrow.”
Spooned in the safe harbor of his arms, I couldn’t battle the weight of my heavy eyelids. Before I could tell him that I was heading back to Los Angeles first thing in the morning, sleep took hold of me.
Chapter 13
I woke up in the morning in the same position I’d fallen asleep. Blinking one sleepy eye open after the other, I glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand—6:05 a.m.—and then cranked my neck to look at the man who was holding me. He was still sound asleep, soft rhythmic breaths emanating from his lush parted lips. Wisps of his sleep-tousled hair tumbled onto his forehead and a layer of fine stubble laced his face. God, he was beautiful in the morning.
Resisting the urge to run my fingers over his fine features, I carefully rolled away from him, hoping not to wake him.
He stirred. “Gloria,” he moaned. The breathy way he said my name was like a prayer. He stirred again, but to my relief, his eyes remained shut. A dreamy smile played across his gorgeous face. I wondered—could he be dreaming about me?
I tiptoed over to the luggage rack, where my suitcase was sitting. Rifling through the contents, I found something comfortable to wear on my long flight back to Los Angeles—a pair of Gloria’s Secret pink sweats and matching hoodie. I decided to forego underwear. All I wanted to feel was the softness of the fleece against my skin. And the memory of Jaime Zander’s touch everywhere.
I lifted off my baby doll top, stepped out of the matching bikini bottoms, and then folded them neatly into my suitcase. As I reached for the sweats, a breath of hot air descended on my neck and two powerful arms cinched my waist. His bare silky chest brushed against my back. He was up.
“Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Long?” Jaime purred. His velvety lips nuzzled the uber-sensitive spot on my neck just below my ear. My skin prickled all over.
I squirmed, trying to break loose of his grip. “I’m going back to LA. My plane departs this morning.”
He tightened his grip with one hand, and tugged my disheveled braid with the other. “You’re not going anywhere. We’re in Paris. I have the whole day planned, and a special treat in store for you this evening.”
Special treat? The words sent goose bumps to my skin. I was intrigued and tempted, but I stuck to my guns.
“Really, I’ve got to get back. I’ve been out of my office for more than a week.”
“Bullshit. Your office is closed today. It’s President’s Day.”
He was right. Think, Gloria, think. Except it was hard to think with this sex god nibbling at my earlobes. A bolt of unexpected erotic pleasure zapped my core. I was heating up.
“I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do and e-mails to catch up on,” I stammered.
“Me too,” he breathed into my ear. “We can do them together here. Plus, we can get going on your ad campaign.”
I had to get used to the idea that this impossible man and I would be working together. The obstacles ahead—salacious Victor and his predatory daughter Vivien—flew into my head, sending a chill down my spine. And I still wasn’t sure how I was going to manage our physical relationship or my emotions. Jaime could feel me tense up; he massaged my shoulders.
“Let me think about it,” I managed as he pressed his lips to my shoulder blades and trailed down my spine with deliciously ticklish flutter kisses.
“Angel, don’t over think because there’s nothing to think about.”
I closed my eyes, my mind filled only with the sweet sensation of his kisses. Oh, God! I was melting into him. It took all I had to stay on track.
“Let go of me. I need to get dressed,” I pleaded.
He let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Oh, Gloria, must I?”
Still clutching me with one arm, he leaned over me and dug his spare hand into my suitcase. He rummaged through my neatly folded garments.
“What the hell are you doing?” I protested.
“Security check. Looking for a dangerous weapon.”
What the fuck?
“Bingo!” he exclaimed as he pulled out one of my sheer silk stockings. “You’re under arrest.”
“Huh?”
Before I could get my mouth to close, he yanked my arms behind my back with such force a painful pull ripped across my shoulder blades. He gripped both my wrists in one hand.
“What are you doing, you crazy asshole?” I cried out, trying im
possibly to free myself.
“You’re going to pay, my sweet, for calling me that.”
I swallowed hard, still writhing.
With his spare hand, he began binding my hands together with the stocking. I felt him tie a tight knot. I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers. They were bound together so tightly I was sure my circulation had been cut off.
“Untie me, you bastard! You can’t do this to me.” I wheeled around. A diabolical smirk played on his gorgeous face. God damn him! He could.
“I’m going to call security,” I threatened.
Jaime bent over with laughter. “Oh, so you’re going to dial the room phone with your nose?” He lightly flicked the tip of my nose with his thumb. “And then you’re going to unlock the door with that talented mouth of yours and let Mr. Security see you tied up and naked?” He playfully traced the outline of my lips.
I screwed up my face.
“You’re so cute when you do that.”
Damn him!
The ring of my cell phone sounded from inside my handbag.
“I need to get that. It could be some kind of emergency.”
The ringing stopped. And then it picked up again.
“Mr. Zander, would you be kind enough to retrieve my phone, press answer, and then put it to my ear.”
“Say please.”
“Please,” I grumbled. “It’s in the zipper compartment of my purse.”
With a wicked grin, he did as asked. My monstrous bag was parked on the dresser across from the beds. My eyes stayed fixed on him as his strode over to it, soaking in his broad shoulders, rippled back, and boyishly narrow hips. His beauty made his painful scars almost invisible.
He found the phone easily and headed back to me with it in his hand. It kept ringing.
He hovered over me. “Tell whoever it is you’re tied up.”
That was a fact.
I gazed at the screen. It was Kevin.
Jaime pressed answer and then held the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Kev. Is everything okay?” My voice faltered.
“More than okay. I’m just checking in on you. You sound strange. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just a little tied up at the moment.” Did I really just say that?
Jaime rewarded me with a chaste kiss on top of my head.
“Did everything go smoothly with Madame Paulette’s funeral?”
“Yes. It was a beautiful service. Thanks so much for helping.”
“Say good-bye,” Jaime breathed against my neck, his lips skimming my sensitive skin. He simultaneously draped his free arm over my shoulder, crossing my chest until he was groping my tender breasts. He began to massage them. A delicious chill skated down my spine, erasing the sad memory of my beloved Madame Paulette.
“When are you coming back?” asked Kevin.
“Um, uh, tomorrow. I’m going to stay in Paris an extra day.”
Jaime rewarded me this time with a squeeze of each nipple. They instantly grew into pointed crowns as he twirled them between his forefinger and thumb. My temperature was rising. He tweaked them again, sending tingles to my core. I moaned into the phone; Kevin heard it.
“Is Jaime there?”
I gulped. I couldn’t hide anything from Kevin.
“Yeah.”
“Good. He told me about Vivien hitting on him. He’s a good guy. Paris is the City of Love. You should let him fuck your brains out.”
Kev never held back. Never. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Oh, Glorious, I wish you could see me. I’m doing a happy dance.”
I could actually picture Kevin doing a little jig. Not wanting to dwell on Jaime, I changed the subject. “And what about you?”
“I’m still in New York…”
“With…”
“Ray. He’s fucking amazing.”
Holy shit! This entangled business relationship was growing more complicated by the minute. Maybe I should end it.
Jaime nibbled my earlobe. “Say good-bye,” he breathed into my ear. “And then say hello to this.” He dragged his thick erection along my backside. His heat penetrated my skin, sending embers to the pit of my stomach. Wetness pooled between my legs. Fuck. He was making lose control again.
“Kev, I’ve got to go,” I stammered.
Kevin let out a laugh. “Don’t let me keep you from sightseeing.”
The only sightseeing in my near future was the monument between Jaime’s legs.
As we exchanged good-byes, Jaime tossed the phone across the room into my open handbag. “Now, spread your legs and bend over,” he ordered.
I did as he asked, pressing my head to the soft mattress. My hands remained tied up behind me. They were beginning to go numb.
Standing behind me, Mr. Impossible groped my buttock cheeks and then kneaded them. “This must be the finest view in all of Paris,” he purred. You’ve got one magnificent ass.”
Before I could say a word, he rubbed the head of his cock up and down the crack of my butt. Though I didn’t feel much sensation, it was strangely erotic. A hand moved between my thighs, his fingers finding their way to my aching clit. He stroked my sensitive folds and then rubbed circles around my nub. Now, that I felt.
“You’re so wet for me, angel”
A muffled moan escaped my throat.
“I’m going to fuck your beautiful ass. Have you ever been fucked this way before?”
“No,” I managed with a shake of my head.
“Good. You’re going to love it.”
He rubbed his cock along my wet folds. It didn’t stay there long—just long enough to bathe in my hot juices. His fingers released my clit, and the next thing I knew his hands, one of them warm and wet, were spreading my ass cheeks apart. I felt his hot crown nudging at my opening. I wasn’t sure about this. With my head still pressed against the bed, I squeezed my eyes shut. A battle between fear and desire raged in my core. Every muscle in my body tensed.
“Relax, Gloria. This is going to hurt at first, but once I’m inside you’re going to wish I never left.”
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for his invasion.
He penetrated me and I winced. Then, slowly he began to fill me, sliding his lubricated cock straight to my center. I clenched my weeping pussy. It hurt like hell, but not as much as I thought it would. I kept on taking deep breaths as he stretched me, his warm hands splayed on my hips to hold me steady. When I began to relax, the pain morphed into tortuous pleasure. The fullness of his slick length inside my virgin hole sent a blast of erotic sensations through my body that I wasn’t expecting.
“Jesus, you’re so hot and tight. Are you okay?”
I simply nodded into the bed. My brain had forgotten how to send words to my voice box. All I could think about was him dominating me this way.
He caressed my ass. “Good, angel. Keep breathing.” He slowly withdrew and then pushed forward, again slow and deep. I groaned, growing fonder of the snugness. His pelvic bones slammed against me as he repeated the movement and picked up his pace. Moaning, I found myself rocking back and forth with his thrusts, each one more intense. Each one more divine. The burning fire inside me was making me delirious. I was loving it.
“This will make it even more pleasurable.” His fingers moved back to my hungry clit, and he began to rub it vigorously. A scream escaped my throat. His other hand clutched my left buttock cheek, still steadying me as he dragged his length up and down my tender hole.
“Oh, angel,” he groaned, his breathing harsh. “You feel fucking incredible. So wet and hot everywhere. How does it feel for you?”
I was fucking losing it. The hot tingles between my legs mingled with the fiery friction of his thrusts. The insane pressure inside me was building like a rockslide. He was doing it again—sending me over a cliff. Making me lose control.
“I’m going to come!” I cried out.
“Not yet!” he barked.
Oh, God. I was so close to the edge. How was I going to hang on? And then
a new mind-blowing sensation blew through me. Two slick fingers plunged into my other opening and began sliding up and down my cavity, hitting my hot spot each time. He was finger fucking and butt fucking me in tandem. I began to whimper. I thought I would pass out right on the bed. Oh, please let me come!
As I raced toward orgasm, Jaime continued to work me on both ends. His panting accelerated with his relentless thrusts. My body was convulsing. I could hold on no longer. The pressure was so intense that I was actually seeing stars.
“Please!” I pleaded, lifting my head from the bed and twisting it so that I could see his face. His expression was sexy and savage. His tousled hair fell into his hooded eyes; sweat beads dusted his skin, and his parted mouth curved in a dangerous pout. His lustful eyes met mine.
“Now, Gloria. Fall apart, now!” he shouted.
I screamed as everything inside me broke loose. Waves of ecstasy wracked my body, spasm after spasm. He shoved his two fingers and his cock deep inside me one more time, and then with a roar, he climaxed violently inside me. Hot cum seeped into my backside while juices seeped out of my core. His intense vibrations collided with mine. With one more thrust, this one softer, he finished off his orgasm and made me come with fury again. Holy fuck!
I buried my head back into the bed as he eased out of me. Damn him. He was right. I was bereft. I missed his fullness already.
He untied my hands, and after wiggling my fingers to bring back sensation, I just let my arms hang lose by the sides of my legs like a rag doll. He ran his warm velvety tongue down my spine and then back up, sending a rush of goose bumps to my already prickling skin.
He gave my ass a playful slap. “You’re free to go back to LA now, angel.”
I wasn’t going anywhere.
Paris was for lovers.
* * * *
After a delicious, hot shower in which Mr. Controlling fucked Ms. Losing It yet again, we towel dried each other and put on the fluffy terry cloth robes that came with room. Jaime ordered room service. Over scrumptious flakey croissants and steaming cafés au lait that we savored around a small round table, he told me what he had planned for the day. It was going to a leisurely day of strolling in Paris and taking in a few sights and museums. And of course, a stop for lunch and a glass of wine at a neighborhood café. I told him that I wanted to make a stop at our Paris flagship store on the Champs-Elysées in the late afternoon. I wanted to check it out and above all personally thank the store manager, Sandrine—a good friend—for helping me with Madame Paulette’s funeral arrangements. That was only yesterday yet it felt like eons ago. A wave of sadness swept over me. I was going to miss her. Jaime readily agreed to the visit, telling me that he had some personal stuff to take care of too, including a client.