FOK (Wall Street Royals)

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FOK (Wall Street Royals) Page 8

by Tara Sue Me


  She took his hand, and he led her at a fast pace down the hall, pointing out the rooms as they passed. “Living room. Office. Half bath,” he checked off, but she didn’t have any time to get more than a glance at anything.

  “Here we are,” he said, as he showed her into a kitchen that would make her chef father green with envy. Lance carefully took what looked like an Italian dish, she caught a glimpse of pasta and red sauce, and placed it in the professional grade refrigerator.

  Watching how at home and comfortable he appeared in the kitchen, she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you enjoy cooking, Sir?”

  “Yes, I find it an enjoyable hobby.” He closed the door to the refrigerator and turned to face her. “Are you sorry now we aren’t eating first?”

  “No, Sir. I haven’t seen you completely naked yet. The possibility I might get to if we move into your bedroom far outweighs food.”

  His eyes darkened, and she thought he was getting ready to say something, but he only held out his hand once again and nodded for her to follow him. Hand in hand, they passed three bedrooms before he finally pulled her into one.

  “My room,” he said.

  “Duly noted, Sir.”

  Since she’d told him in the kitchen she wanted to see him naked, she thought he might have her undress him. Lance, however, had other plans.

  “Stay there,” he said and then undressed himself. Originally, she’d have preferred for him to ask her to do the task, but it only took a few seconds for her to appreciate the many benefits of him taking it upon himself.

  First and foremost, it allowed her the ability to watch as he revealed one part of his delicious-looking-body at a time. God, she could look at him for hours. Well, maybe not hours, there was no way she could look at all the male perfection he exhibited and not touch.

  She fisted her hands so she wouldn’t be tempted.

  And she may have licked her lips.

  He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.” Three short steps and she stood before him. “Do you want dinner now that you’ve seen me naked?”

  “May I touch you, Sir?”

  “You may since you remembered and asked so politely.”

  She ran her hands up, down, and across the expanse of his chest. He obviously worked out. No one had a chest and arms that looked the way his did by sitting in an office all day. She continued touching him, stroking her hands down his side and over his hips.

  “No, Sir,” she said. “The only thing I’m hungry for is you.”

  He stopped her hands before she reached what she was after. “Not yet.”

  Cutting off any potential protest, he scooped her up and placed her on the bed.

  “Be still and I might fuck you before dinner.” He pushed on her shoulders, pressing her down, and moved so he straddled her body. “Would you like that? For me to fill you up with my thick, hard cock? Fuck it deep inside you and make sure you take every inch?”

  She nodded.

  He gave one of her nipples a hard pinch and she gasped. “Words,” he said. “Little girls who can’t speak when asked a question don’t get my cock.”

  “Ye… yes, Sir.”

  He pinched the other one. “Good girl.”

  Though his pinches had been rough, when he touched her again, the roughness had vanished, leaving gentleness to take over. Both his mouth and his fingers were gentle as they lightly stroked over every area of her body. Each brush of his skin against hers tempted her to move whether it be to give more of herself to him or to silently ask for more of him. But she held still, knowing he was serious about what would happen if she was not.

  He made his way back up her body just as methodical as he’d went down, but when his lips found hers once more, they were no longer gentle. His kiss held all of his desire and he didn’t hide it from her, but bared himself to her. Between them, the desire grew stronger.

  He sat up only long enough to roll a condom on and then he rested his body on top of hers. She wasn’t sure what it was about feeling the weight of a man pressing against her, but it never failed to turn her on further. To have it be Lance, drove her even wilder.

  He tapped her knee, and she spread her thighs wide. When he eased himself between them, she balled her hands into fists, desperate to push up against him and beg him to take her. He slipped his hand between their bodies and teased her clit with the tip of his cock.

  “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he said in an almost moan.

  She sucked in a breath as he tapped her clit with his cock.

  He took his time entering her and when she pried her eyes away from the sight of his cock and how it stretched her as it pushed inside, she saw his eyes were closed and his head held back in bliss.

  He took both of her hands, pulling them over her head and stretching his body over hers. Only then did he move. He angled his hips as he thrust and she followed his lead, angling hers, and allowing him to slip even deeper.

  She felt her release build and had a slight moment of panic. He hadn’t told her if she could come or not. Though she hadn’t spoken, he obviously picked up on her concern.

  “Whenever you want tonight,” he managed to say, not stopping.

  She arched her back, urging him on, wanting him harder and faster; squeezed his hands in a silent plea not to hold back, to take from her what he needed. He somehow heard because he gave a grunt and his next thrust nearly drove her into the headboard. The one after that sent her straight over the edge. Still, he didn’t stop, and she came in wave after wave.

  His body tensed as he climaxed with one last hard thrust. He didn’t move while his breathing slowed, but remained on top of her, his cock still deep inside. His hands held hers above her head and he slowly released them, kissing one and then the other before kissing her.

  He traced the curves and planes of her body as if she was fragile. Maybe in that moment, she was.

  She shivered as he slipped out, his retreating cock brushing her sensitive flesh. His lips trailed along her cheek and came to rest at her ear. He nibbled her earlobe and ran his tongue across the edge.

  “My God, you are incredible.”

  Chapter Eleven

  They ended up in the living room, sitting on his couch in front of his floor-to-ceiling windows and eating cold pasta. He hadn’t allowed her to put her clothes back on but handed her one of his white dress shirts and teased her not to get red sauce on it.

  At least, she thought he was teasing.

  He told her he’d hired a personal assistant by the name of Alex. Celeste had looked at him funny when he told her, but he explained how it was his hope Alex would free up time for him to spend with her. She liked how that sounded and agreed it was a fabulous idea.

  By then, the pasta was long gone. Lance held out his hand and told her he’d give her a real tour of the penthouse, but after dropping off their empty dishes in the kitchen, their next stop was his bedroom. Needless to say, it wasn’t until late Sunday morning before he gave her the promised tour.

  On Monday, Lance was up and out the door ridiculously early. Celeste lounged in his bed, feeling gluttonous. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d stayed in bed past seven in the morning. When she stayed at her parents, there was always something that needed to be done at the restaurant. And since she’d been in New York, she’d spent almost every waking moment playing the violin.

  But for today, she was going to be decadent.

  She got out of his bed around nine and decided to surprise him at his office. Not wanting to show up unannounced and empty handed, she poked around his kitchen and found what she needed to make blueberry walnut muffins. He’d mentioned at some point over the weekend that Alex would start today. She’d split the muffins between Lance and Alex. Nothing wrong with making muffins to get his new employee to like her.

  While the muffins were in the oven, she took a quick shower and got dressed. She wasn’t sure how or when Lance went by the estate, but several of her outfits were hanging in his closet. She wondered if he had hi
s driver pick them up. The thought made her blush. God, she hoped Barbara hadn’t taken notice.

  It was a nice day, and she gave serious thought to walking to his office, but decided not to after remembering his reaction to finding out she had taken the subway the day her grandmother’s violin got stuck in the moving van. He’d not been happy with her that day and now that they had the power exchange between them, he’d be well within his rights to show her exactly how unhappy. Though she’d admit to being curious about his punishment style, she already knew after only being with him the one weekend, it would not be wise to flippantly journey down that path.

  She smiled every time a thought reminded her she had a Dom to answer to. On the surface, such a thing might look restrictive, but in reality the safety and comfort made her feel freer than she ever felt single.

  Once she was dressed and ready, she wrapped up the muffins a friend had once claimed to be better than sex. She laughed as she divided the still warm treats into two plastic containers she’d found in Lance’s cupboard. At the time her friend had said that, she’d known it wasn’t true. If there had been any doubt, Lance had taken care of removing it over the weekend. Blueberry and walnuts be damned.

  His office wasn’t too far and, stepping out of the car provided for her via the scholarship, she had to admit it was much better than the subway. But she didn’t think she’d ever get used to having a driver at her beck and call.

  She’d never been to his office, and she had to stop at the directory in the lobby to see what floor he was on. Everyone around her wore business attire, and she felt out of place in her gauzy skirt and loose-fitting shirt. Thankfully, no one appeared to notice her. Tucking the muffins under an arm, she headed to the nearest elevator and went up the forty-seven floors to his office.

  The lobby was everything she’d thought it would be: chrome, glass, and mirrors. Very modern and very cold and clinical. There was a security station she had to pass through and she gave Lance’s name, but the guard called Alex instead.

  Oh well, she could meet him sooner rather than later. And it was always possible Lance was in a meeting or otherwise indisposed.

  “Someone will be right with you,” the guard said, hanging up his phone.

  Celeste declined his offer to sit in a chair. Lance and his PA both had offices on this floor, how long could it take to walk down the hall?

  As it turned out, it took fifteen minutes until a beautiful woman approached her and asked, “Ms. Walsh?”

  Celeste stood up. “Yes.”

  “Follow me, please.”

  If she’d felt out of place with the people on the ground floor, she felt positively dowdy compared to whoever this woman was. Celeste assumed she was being taken to see Lance. Therefore she was shocked when the woman ushered her into an empty office and closed the door.

  “I’m Alex Russell,” she said, and her resulting sly smile confirmed how pleased she was at the shock Celeste clearly couldn’t hide. “And you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I came to see Lance,” Celeste replied, to which Alex raised an eyebrow.

  Feeling foolish, Celeste held up one of the containers she brought. “I made muffins.”

  “I see that. How very…. quaint.”

  Celeste felt her cheeks heat, but she refused to let Alex make her feel small. “If you’ll just tell Lance I’m here. Or you know, better yet, show me where his office is and you can get back to whatever it is you were doing before I showed up.”

  Alex crossed her arms. “Mr. Braxton isn’t available at the moment.”

  “I can wait.”

  “He’s unavailable all day.”

  “You’re new, right? Isn’t today your first day? If you’ll tell him -”

  “Today is my first day working for Mr. Braxton,” Alex interrupted. “But I assure you, I am not new. You, however, are very new. You won his family’s scholarship, didn’t you?” Alex didn’t wait for her confirmation but kept talking. “That tells me two things. One, you’re very good at whatever it is you do. Two, you probably don't understand how things work in an office like this. But don’t worry. I’ll explain it all to you.

  “How it works is whenever he’s not here, he’s yours. I don’t care if you fuck three times a day and five on Sundays. It’s not my time. But when he’s here, he’s mine. Or as he would say, I’m his. Don’t look at me as if you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Celeste hated that Alex read her so easy. She hated the way her heart pounded at hearing Alex’s words. “But I don’t know what you're talking about.” But most of all, she hated that she really did.

  Alex dropped her voice. “Do you really think a little submissive like you can keep a man like Lance happy? That he doesn’t have needs during the workday? As his personal assistant it’s my job to see to those needs. And before you ask, yes, all of them.”

  “That’s not the job of a personal assistant.” Why was she standing arguing with this woman? Why hadn’t Lance been the one to come get her from the lobby? “You can’t tell me that all personal assistants sleep with their bosses.”

  “Oh my, such a naïve little girl you are.”

  When Lance called her ‘little girl’, it was sexy. How was it those same words spoken by Alex made her feel dumb?

  Alex sighed, like it exasperated her to explain something so obvious. Except it wasn’t obvious to Celeste.

  “Maybe in other offices it’s not like that, but it’s different here.” Alex looked at Celeste while she talked about the office she hadn’t even worked in for a whole day yet. Even so, her expression goaded her, almost pleading with her to keep asking questions.

  “Isaac isn’t sleeping with Lillian,” Celeste said as if that was the only truth she needed to negate everything Alex had just stated.

  “No, he’s not,” Alex admitted. “But that’s only because everyone knows she belongs to Ty.”

  Celeste couldn’t help but wonder if Lillian knew that. Lillian didn’t live as if she still belonged to her ex.

  “Of course,” Alex continued. “You can bet your ass that Ty is sleeping with his PA. Why do you think they got a divorce?”

  Celeste didn’t know why, nor had she ever pondered the question. She’d never even considered asking Lillian why she was divorced. Number one, it wasn’t her business and number two, if Lillian had wanted her to know, she would have told her.

  “She left him because she found out he was sleeping with his personal assistant.”

  “You?” Celeste couldn’t help but ask.

  “Don’t be absurd,” Alex said. “It isn’t a becoming look for you.”

  “What’s absurd is how you proved my point. If Lillian divorced him over that, then obviously she didn’t think it was all that normal.”

  “That doesn’t prove your point, all it does is show that Lillian was misguided just like you. When she filed for divorce, everyone told her how foolish she was.”

  Celeste was ready to get the hell out of the room and away from Alex. She had an overwhelming urge to go back to the day before when it was only her and Lance in his penthouse. When she’d never met the woman before her and when she’d assumed that when Lance said his new PA’s name was Alex, that he was a man. Although to be honest, she had a feeling the only reason she wanted to do so was to kick Lance’s ass.

  And quite possibly to kick her own as well.

  “If you’ll let Lance know I stopped by and that I’ll be at the estate, I’ll be on my way,” Celeste said. It was better for her to go back to the estate than to return to his penthouse. At least for now. She wasn’t sure she believed Alex, but she needed time to think, and she could think a lot better if she wasn’t in a place where they had spent most of their time naked.

  “What makes you think he doesn’t know you’re here?” Alex asked.

  Celeste didn’t reply, she spun on her heels and walked out of the office, knowing Alex watched her retreat, most likely with a look of victory the entire time.

  She hadn’t
told her driver to wait since she hadn’t known how much time she’d be spending with Lance. Fortunately, he hadn’t gone far and appeared in front of the office building within five minutes of her calling for him to come pick her up.

  Due to heavy traffic and never ending road construction, it took longer than normal to make it to the estate. She kept playing Alex’s words over in her head, growing angrier and angrier with each passing mile. How dare Lance refuse to see her. Yet under the anger she was hurt he would do so following such an incredible weekend.

  By the time the car pulled into the driveway and reached the main house, she could barely move she ached so much. Her head pounded as if she’d invited an entire percussion section to practice inside her brain, not to mention how heavy her eyelids felt. The weekend of way too much sex and not enough sleep had finally caught up with her.

  Walking into the house that had become her home over the last few weeks, she planned to fall into her bed and sleep for at least five hours.

  But that was not to be. Barbara stood in the foyer going through a stack of mail. “Hello, Celeste,” she said. “I love that outfit on you. That skirt looks fabulous.”

  “Thank you.”

  Barbara looked at her closer. “Are you okay, dear? You seem a little pale.”

  “It’s only a headache, but I think I’m going to go take a nap and see if I can get it to go away.”

  “You go do that.” Barbara flipped through the mail and held out a piece. “This came for you.”

  “Thanks.” Celeste didn’t recognize the handwriting or the return address. “I heard something today about Lillian and I couldn’t believe it. Do you mind if I ask you about it?”

  “Lillian? Isaac’s assistant? Such a lovely girl. I always liked her. What did you want to ask?”

  “Did her husband cheat on her?”

  The older woman didn’t have to answer, the way her lips pressed together and her look of sadness told Celeste all she needed to know. Barbara confirmed her fears with a nod. “Yes, that’s what I’ve always heard. Though I must say, it came as such a surprise. I’ve known Ty since he and Lance were in diapers, and I never would have thought he’d do something like that.”

 

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