by Kira Blakely
“Or maybe she’s just happy,” Ben tells Lily.
My heart skips a beat.
“I’m happy, too,” Lily says.
I smile at her, ignoring my pounding heart. “Well, you’ll be happier when you’ve tasted these tarts.”
I finish them up quietly then present her with one.
“Dig in.”
She carries it with both hands and bites into it. “Yum.”
Ben chuckles. “I think that’s her favorite word now.”
Lily quickly gobbles up the first tart.
“Slow down,” I tell her.
She doesn’t listen, getting chocolate all around her mouth. Then she smiles.
“More?”
“Slow down, kiddo.” Ben pats her on the head. “Remember, if you have too much sugar, you won’t be able to sleep.”
Chapter 12
“She’s sleeping soundly now,” Ben informs me over an hour later as he walks back into the kitchen, having just tucked Lily to bed. “Baking must have tired her out, too.”
“Or it must be the sugar crash,” I say as I scrub a spoon. “She did eat a lot of those tarts.
“Well, they were really good.” He stands beside me. “Need help?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Even so, he doesn’t leave my side.
“I want to thank you for tonight, not just for teaching me how to bake but for making Lily happy.”
“It’s not that hard to make her happy.”
“You know, you really have some serious talent.” Ben places his hands on the edge of the sink. “Not everyone can just come up with recipes off the top of their heads or know how to twist existing recipes and make them more delicious with just the addition of a few right ingredients.”
“Thanks.” I scrub another spoon.
“I don’t understand why they fired you.”
I shrug, reaching for another spoon. “Well, some people like their instructions followed and prefer consistency to surprise.”
“Then maybe you should open up your own… bakery.”
“Dessert bar,” I correct. “That is my dream but until I get all the money I need, and I’m afraid I’m starting at square one, I’ll have to work in someone else’s kitchen and do as I’m told.”
“You can stay in my kitchen and make what you like.” Ben grabs my hand, the soapy sponge slipping from my fingers.
I blink. What?
“I don’t want you to change.” He strokes my cheek with his other hand. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
What is this? More teasing? No. This seems more intense. This seems… serious.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You want me to stay?”
“You said you were falling for me. It’s true, isn’t it?”
Shit. I forgot I said that, and I can’t believe he remembers.
“Well, guess what? You’re not the only one.”
What?
“I told you I wasn’t going to run away from the truth anymore. This is another truth.”
He grabs my face with both hands, kissing me. At first, I don’t respond, still shocked by his words, stunned by his actions. Then the emotions roll in all at once. I let the spoon in my hand fall to the sink with a clatter, grabbing the front of his shirt as I kiss him back.
If he’s brave enough to face the truth, who am I to deny it? Or deny him?
I part my lips for him, letting his tongue in. I taste the mint from the toothpaste and hints of the chocolate that haven’t been washed away. He tastes amazing.
My hands move to the back of his head, to his hair. I kiss him harder, opening my mouth wider, moving my body against him so that my breasts rub against his chest.
Ben gasps then chuckles as he kisses my neck. “You just want to gobble me up, don’t you?”
I giggle. “Why not? You’re perfect.”
“You’re going to drive me crazy.”
He lifts me by the hips, placing me on the edge of the dining table. Then he pulls my shirt off before getting rid of his, both shirts falling to the floor.
He kisses me again, his hands running across my back while I splay mine on his chest, delighting in how his muscles feel beneath my palms and fingertips. I start kneading them, moving down to the taut muscles of his abdomen, feeling each one.
Perfect. The texture is just perfect.
His fingers find the hook of my bra and he takes it off, pushing me on top of the table and pinning my hands down with his before sucking on a bare breast.
“Ben,” I gasp, my breast tingling in the warmth of his mouth, my whole body buzzing with excitement.
“Now, that is something entirely out of this world,” he says before moving to the other one.
My eyes fall shut, my lips parting to let out another gasp and a moan. It’s a good thing I’m on the table because my knees have turned to jelly now, my skin melting just from the heat of his mouth.
I’m melting, my sex hot and wet and aching, wanting.
Ben unbuttons my pants, his hand slipping beneath my underwear as he kisses me again. His fingers brush against my sensitive nub then find the source of my heat, my very core, dipping into it.
I grab his shoulders and arch against him, pulling away from the kiss as I let out a gasp.
God.
He’s stroking me now, and I feel like I’m a bowl of eggs being whipped to perfection. He’s playing with me, trying to get me where he wants me to be, and there’s nothing I can do.
I can only surrender and try not to lose my sanity, gripping him as the pleasure grows stronger, out of control.
“Ben!”
I know it’s too fast, too soon, but my body is already at its limit, having been denied this excitement for so long, and I just want him so much.
I come undone, shaking, bursting, relenting, letting out all that pent-up passion and desire, my orgasm turning me inside out and leaving me out of breath. When I’m done, I rest my head on Ben’s shoulder, panting.
“It seems like you’re not as hard to temper as chocolate,” Ben says.
I look at him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you saying I’m too easy?”
“No such thing. I…”
I jump off the table and slide down to the floor, pulling his shorts and briefs down before going on my knees, his hard cock right in front of my face.
The sight of it, long and thick and gracefully arched away from his belly, makes me drool. But I’m not here to look.
I’m here to taste.
Squeezing one firm cheek of his ass with one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock, I start licking, swirling my tongue around the swollen head and right beneath it.
“Jesus!” Ben grips my hair, his knees shaking.
“Sorry,” I tell him without meaning it, licking again. “I’ve never been good at controlling my tongue.”
“Fuck!”
His grip becomes tighter. He gasps.
I grin, licking my lips. “You’ve had your treat. Now I’m having mine.”
Digging my nails into both of his ass cheeks, I take him inside my mouth, letting him glide across my tongue, sucking and then swallowing.
It’s the perfect treat, sweet and salty and bitter, well-balanced. The texture is perfect, too, hard and yet smooth, slightly sticky, slightly slippery. Like an éclair, like a cream puff, like sorbet – all my favorites rolled into one. And I just can’t get enough of it.
“Michelle, stop. I…”
He gasps again, shaking.
Even though he didn’t finish, I know what he’s trying to say. I’m not the only one who’s been wanting this, who’s been deprived of this.
“Michelle.”
Reluctantly, I pull away, doing what I’m told for once. As I stand up, gasping for air, I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes and the saliva from the corners of my mouth. I meet his gaze, his blue eyes glazed with lust, dark and smoldering. I know mine are, too.
“That tongue of yours.”
He ki
sses me again. Hard.
Then he quickly pulls away, lifting me back on the table before pulling my pants and my panties off. Then he pushes me down again, settling between my legs and entering me with one thrust.
I gasp at the sensation of being filled and stretched to the brim, clawing at the surface of the table. It shakes as he starts moving, pounding into me, but I don’t care and neither does he. He just keeps jerking his hips, his eyes half lidded and his nostrils flaring.
I cling to him as I close my eyes and throw my head back, feeling heat spread through my body once more. It’s slower this time but also stronger. Each time he thrusts inside my body, I feel like I’m going to shatter but I hold on, waiting for the right moment.
“Ben!”
When it comes, I wrap my arms and legs around him, squeezing him as he pours himself inside me, his grunts and my moans becoming one. The force of my orgasm whips through my body, knocking the breath from my lungs and making my mind and senses numb.
For a while, I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move. Then I open my eyes to find Ben staring at me. His eyes are still narrowed, glazed, but this time, what I see in them isn’t lust. That part has been satisfied. I feel something else that turns me into warm jelly on the inside and makes my heart feel like a lump of pop rocks, restlessly jumping for joy.
I smile. “Now, that was a perfectly executed recipe.”
“Was it?” His eyebrows furrow. “I thought it was quite chaotic.”
“Sometimes, the best things come out of the chaos and mess of the kitchen.”
He brushes away some wisps of my hair. “Are desserts all you think about?”
“Don’t worry. You’re the best ever.”
He chuckles then his expression becomes serious. “Um, can I have my cock back now?”
“Sorry.”
I put my legs down, releasing him so that he can pull out. He puts back his briefs and his shorts then sits down on the table beside me, looking at me.
“Where have you been all these years?”
“In someone else’s kitchen.” I prop myself up on an elbow. “Wait. You said you fell for me, too. When? Was it after you saw me in the tub?”
“Now, that was a sight.” He grins. “But no. I think it was when I first saw you.”
“Really?”
Ben places his hand over mine. “So, will you stay?”
“Do you want me to?” I ask him.
“Yes.” His fingers entangle with mine. “But I won’t tell you to stay.”
“Good.” I get up and straddle his lap, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Because I’ve never been good at being told what to do.”
Ben grins. “One of your many wonderful attributes, no doubt.”
I frown. “Are you mocking me?”
“No.”
I touch his cheek. “But you know what I’m good at doing?”
He wraps his arms around me. “Telling me what to do. Making desserts. Kissing. Blowjobs. Driving me crazy.”
“Following my heart,” I tell him. “This time, my heart is telling me I’m in the perfect place for a new beginning.”
“A new beginning.” Ben nods. “I like the sound of that. We’ll begin together.”
“Together.”
I kiss him tenderly. I don’t know if this recipe will work, but I know I want to try it out. I might put my own twists along the way, too, and in time, I just know Ben and I will come up with something hot and whimsical and magical.
A masterpiece entirely our own.
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BEAUTY AND THE BILLIONAIRE
A DIRTY FAIRY TALE ROMANCE
*Amazon Top 20 Best-seller, 4.7 stars, 320 reviews!*
This isn't your kid's fairy tale, and I'm no ordinary beast.
Years of killing in the military have hardened me, scarred me, making it impossible to give a shit about relationships.
Then comes along Belle Fontaine. The innocent virgin daughter of the man whose company I want to buy. She's twenty-four and drop dead fucking gorgeous.
I always say love at first sight is for pansies, but she has me second guessing that.
My cock stands to salute her the moment she walks into my office.
Purchasing her father's company is more of a mercy buy for me, but she tries to get more than it's worth.
Wrong move.
Now, I will make it... hard... for her.
The only way I will buy the company is if she agrees to come to my private island for one month.
I'm sure she's heard the rumors about my secret room. I can sense her fear and desire.
Whips and chains aren't the only secrets she'll discover.
This dirty fairy tale will keep you warm tonight and the beast will surely win over the beauty. This book does contain BDSM.
Chapter One
Drake
I sauntered into the room expecting another bullshit merger discussion, but instead saw the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid eyes on. My cock instantly jerked to attention.
Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t wanted for women in my life. But I’d never seen one as enticing as the brunette sitting beside Maurice Fontaine at the head of the table. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with both intelligence and intensity, her round breasts filled out her blazer nicely, and her soft, cream-colored skin looked like it would feel like satin under my touch.
I was the head of the most successful PR firm in Los Angeles. There was no one from Brad Pitt to Emma Stone who didn’t come to me when they needed to take control of a story. If your career was going down in flames, I was the guy to fix it with the right public relations massaging. With my public relations and multimedia talent came billions by the time I was thirty, especially after the company’s IPO. It was how I’d become known as the Sultan of Spin. And it was how I had every woman in L.A. and some far beyond it ready and waiting for me.
I strode to my seat at the opposing end of the table and sat down. Shaking hands was customary, but that wasn’t the tone I wanted to set. This was a mercy killing. Fontaine Media Relations had once been the premiere public relations firm in Hollywood, but it’d been over two decades since they could make that claim. Maurice was once a legend in the business, someone who’d navigated the sharks swimming in La La Land long before I’d started high school, let alone enlisted. But that was then. The old man hadn’t kept up with the times and had bungled the social media age badly. Now they were bleeding out, and I could buy them out, dismantle what I needed, and move on.
Easy, simple.
Calling this a merger meeting was truly too kind.
“Maurice,” I said, then nodded to my lawyer, who promptly delivered the papers to the older man. It was then that I realized a second woman sat beside the aging, balding former PR wizard. She had the same figure as the girl with the bright blue eyes and shared the same long, brown hair. The resemblance was uncanny. Were they sisters? I just wasn’t sure which of the two women was Belle and which was Carol. I’d read all the dossiers on Maurice’s firm. I always knew who I was doing business with, but the sisters were similar enough that in person, it was a toss-up as to who was who.
Except those eyes. Only the girl on Maurice’s left had those blue eyes that hadn’t left mine since I’d walked in. My dick was straining against the fabric of my slacks, and I was glad for the wooden conference table between us. I needed some way to obscure everything. Something about her caught my attention, something I wanted to explore far more than over a conference table.
What is it about you?
Maurice threw the folder down in front of him. The girl on the right scooped it up and scanned it as well. She pursed her lips back at me, and a dull grimace spread over her face.
“This offer isn’t enough,” she said
I cracked my knuckles and eyed her. Oh, so w
as that the game? Was this daughter Daddy’s Little Ball Buster? Maurice would take the first volley but the girl with the green eyes would play bad cop? They must have made blue-eyes the good cop.
“Your company is dead. Forty cents on the dollar is generous. No other firm in L.A. will touch you, and if one was crazy enough to try, they’d offer fifteen cents.” I leaned forward, going in for the kill. “You need me far more than I need you. If you sign this deal, you get to keep a few things, and Maurice, you and your daughters can stay on as executives at the combined entity after the merger. This is the best you’re going to get. Sign.”
“My dad built this company with his blood, sweat, and tears for over thirty years,” Blue Eyes said in a voice so quiet that it could have been a whisper.
“And you are?” I asked.
“Belle,” she supplied.
“I can see why,” I countered. “You’re certainly beautiful.”
Her blue eyes shone like sapphires back at me. “Mr. McManus, let’s keep this professional.”
Highly unlikely.
I steepled my hands in front of me. “I am being professional, Belle. This is the best offer your family will get. Your father… your family’s entire company needs this. You just sign, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
“It’s an insult to everything he’s built, and you know it. He has name recognition still, and that’s why you’re buying us to begin with. To only offer forty percent of what it’s worth… we were thinking around eighty,” Belle replied.
I snorted. “And perhaps you’d like ponies and a new Maserati and who knows what all else? Seriously, this is reality, Belle. You might be great at putting out press releases, but you have nothing to negotiate with. Even sitting down with your family at all was a courtesy. Your firm is dead in the water. So sign.”
The other girl shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Daddy’s pit bull, indeed. “I can think of other things to do with the deal. Certain places to shove it.”
“Carol!” her dad shouted.
I had to chuckle at that. Neither of Maurice’s daughters was over thirty, both so naïve, but one was all about fairness and the other was threatening to shove my deal up my ass. That inability to accept change and reality as it was certainly hadn’t served Maurice well, had it? Pity to see it in the younger generation. Then I watched Belle’s frown, those downcast eyes of hers.