by Kim Karr
He moves forward. I move back. When we stop again, he rubs my palm along the ridge of his hard cock, and I moan so loud, it makes him smile. “I ask, I don’t demand.”
“No, you don’t,” I breathe.
He moves forward again. I move back in stride.
“My room is at the end of the hall, and in there you can find out if I went braless,” I inform him.
His voice dips to a low rumble, making it gravelly and irresistible. “I already know you did. I’ve been staring at your gorgeous nipples all night.”
Feeling a bit like I’m on a cloud, I start to move faster.
He follows, slowly. Like a predator stalking his prey.
Watching him as his entirely too hot, too sexy body prowls my way makes my pulse zing. I can practically feel the air sizzle with each step we take.
I open my door, walking backward. He follows, walking forward. I step toward my bed, still moving backward. He closes the distance between us.
“Take your top off.” The demand liquefies my insides.
I fight to keep my control, but find myself pulling my top over my head.
He sucks in a breath. “Now your jeans and panties.”
I shake my head no, and in the process end up falling onto the bed. “Why should I do your work?”
He reaches the bed and places his palms on either side of me, leaning forward. “Because I need to see you naked again before I fuck you. Hard and fast.”
If I hadn’t already been wet, I am now, and any semblance of calm and cool I have been putting forward quickly diminishes. My lips part, my breathing hitches, and my nipples peak. I am, without a doubt, 100 percent turned on.
Keen straightens, takes a step back, and lowers his eyes in a lustful way. “Now, once again, stand up and take your jeans off and then your panties.”
His demand completely obliterates my resolve to be the one in control this time around. Still, I really do not take orders well.
His gaze roams my body. “Maggie, let me see you again. I can’t stand it,” he growls.
Goose bumps rise on my flesh, and I know it is hopeless to even pretend I am not going to do what he asks. Because God help me, I am.
You would too, and you know it.
With those eyes blazing and watching my every move, I stand up and toe my Converse off. Naked from the waist up, I unbutton my jeans. Then, as his eyes grow even more lustful, I slide them from my hips, and then remove my panties.
“Oh, fuck, you are just as beautiful as I remember. Do you know that?”
Under his gaze I feel beautiful. Still, I say nothing.
He sucks in a breath. “Tell me you know how beautiful you are.”
“I know you think I’m beautiful.”
“Not just me, Maggie. Every man that looks at you.”
I meet his stare, and nod.
“Sit back down,” he commands.
“Okay,” I whisper with a thrill as I sit on my bed. Arousal makes me hot and I wish I had turned the fan on.
“That’s it,” he says, stepping toward me with that rock-hard body of his.
While I wait for him to pounce, my whole body feels like a furnace—that’s how hot I am for him.
He slides his hands up my thighs and my pulse races.
I reach up to steal a kiss, but he pulls back.
Chewing on his lip, he stares down at my naked body. “Take your finger and circle it over your clit. Just a few times. Not too much.”
Now, I’ve openly admitted to being a sexpot, but I do not take orders from men well, or I didn’t. With him, I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of okay with it.
Do.
Not.
Tell.
I flash him a heated smile. “No need. I’m already wet.”
“Do it anyway,” he demands.
My heart races. This is about control. This means giving up all of my control. And I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that, so instead, I stand up.
His eyes flare. “Maggie.”
I meet his hungry gaze and turn the tables. “Sit down.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
I swallow, and then point toward the bed.
His lips quirk up in bemusement.
I keep my finger pointed. “I mean it.” I’m not quite sure how this is going to go down, so it surprises me when he actually lowers himself onto the bed.
Perhaps, in hindsight, I should have seen control would be an issue for us. But then again, it is my turn to take control. “Unzip your pants.”
He gives me a sly grin that makes him look more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I think you should do that.”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure this is the way you want to play it?”
I swallow. I’m not sure if it is, but decide why not. “Yes,” I reply sternly. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. This is fun. A lot of fun.
He unzips his jeans and his long, thick cock juts out.
Holy hell, he isn’t wearing underwear.
I lick my lips at the sight.
He looks down, his gaze darkening, and then he begins stroking himself.
Wait! That’s my job!
My internal muscles clench as I watch, mesmerized by the picture before me.
I approach, ready to pounce.
“Don’t touch,” he warns.
“What?”
“No touching.” His head tips back as his stroking becomes more aggressive.
I make a noise that might have been a growl when he starts thrusting his cock into his fist. My pulse quickens and my clit pulses in perfect harmony.
Keen flicks his glance toward me. “This feels good . . . but you’d feel so much better.”
Damn him.
I can’t hold out any longer. I sit beside him on my bright yellow comforter in my bright yellow room that has never had a man inside it and start touching myself. Of all the boyfriends I’ve had, all the lovers I’ve taken, the many men I’ve fucked, I’ve never brought one back to this house.
Never.
So intent on watching me, Keen’s own stroking has stopped.
“That’s it,” he says, and then within seconds takes my hand and puts my fingers in his mouth. “I’ve been dying to taste you again since you left me alone in that hotel room.”
“Oh, God,” I moan. Loud. Remembering that night. So loud, in fact, I might have screamed it.
Before I know it, he’s tearing open a condom, rolling it on, and tugging me onto his lap.
Bracing myself, I put my hands on his shoulders to straddle his legs with mine.
He looks down at our bodies and then lifts his head up. Gone is any amusement on his face. All that is left is pure lust. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night,” he whispers. “I wanted to fuck you on Jordan’s desk last night, not in the hall, so that I could see you, look at you, watch you come, but I knew we shouldn’t.”
I lean in and kiss him. “No, he wouldn’t have liked that. He has everything organized on his desk.”
“I know. I saw that.” Keen nips at my lip.
Without another word, I position myself over the broad, blunt head of his cock and ease my way down.
He throws his head back and grabs my hips.
Ripples of desire consume me as I rise up and slam myself down.
“Fuck,” he groans.
I grip his shoulders tight enough for my blunt nails to scratch him and move up and down over and over again, feeling like there is a chance I might never get enough of him.
“Fuucckk,” he groans again, this time drawing out the word. Soon his hands are moving me as fast as my hips are already moving.
I lean in to kiss him and his mouth devours mine. His tongue strokes mine, and his lips crash against mine with a hunger that would have made me weak at the knees if I were standing.
I am climbing higher and higher and his groans are becoming more intense, even fiercer, with every passing second. One of Keen’s hands drifts down and his thumb is di
rectly over my clit. With pressure he circles me, and my hips jerks as my thigh muscles tighten in preparation for my impending climax.
“Oh God, I’m going to come,” I cry out.
His hand lifts and takes my chin to look at him. “I’m right there with you,” he groans through clenched teeth.
I take his thumb in my mouth, sucking on it, and then we both explode as shattering climaxes run rapid through our veins.
When I can breathe again, I look down at him. “You let me take control.”
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Did I?”
Okay, so maybe not, but I’ll call it a win. “Yes, you did.”
Being naughty, he nips at my lip. “I’m going to be honest: I don’t like giving up control.”
I nip back at his. “I don’t like giving up control either.”
He laughs.
“Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”
“I know you are,” he chokes out, trying to contain his laughter.
I lean down and suck on his neck, probably harder than I should, and then purr, “I am woman, here me roar.”
Laughing now, he stands up with me in his arms and turns around, setting me on my bed.
I look up at him, admiring how gorgeous he is, and wishing it were early morning so I could see him again. Really see him again. This time study every line, ripple, and dimple.
Under my heated gaze, his limp cock starts to stiffen again.
He stares down at me with an odd gleam in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“I think you’ll be able to figure that out in a matter of seconds.”
Reluctant, but so turned on, I search for my words. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
He drops his head and lightly licks up my thigh. “Don’t overthink this, Maggie. Just lie back.”
“Keen,” I call out in desire, “I know you’re up to something.” I try to protest, but I end up moaning instead.
Ignoring my attempt to get him to spill the beans, he drives his tongue into my pussy, thrusting it in and out and in and out in the most delicious way.
That mouth.
I grip his hair. “Oh God, yes!” I scream as his tongue drives me to a state of near insanity.
I can’t believe how quickly he is bringing me to orgasm again. And I can’t believe how much I want it. Need it.
Desire builds fast and the pleasure starts to overtake my entire body. I am rising higher and higher and higher. I’m on the brink. “Oh God, don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m going to come.”
And then like a car hitting a brick wall, he just stops.
“What are you doing?” I pant.
“Do you like that?”
I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “Yes, you have to know I do.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead he drives his tongue into my pussy again and brings me slowly back to the brink.
“That’s it,” I call out. “Oh, God, that’s it.”
And just as before, he stops.
I glare down at him. On his knees, with his face between my legs, lips glistening with my desire.
“Did you like that?”
“Yes,” I say impatiently.
He does it two more times.
By then I am practically whimpering.
No man has ever dared to tease me like this. If anyone had, I would have simply stood up and ordered him to leave. I have no intention of doing such a thing right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t if he pushes me too far.
Keen licks his shimmering lips. “You taste so good, I think I might do this all night.”
No way.
No way is he doing this all night.
I can’t take it.
I can’t take his teasing anymore, so I beg and give up control, both at the same time. “Please, Keen. Please. I’m begging you. Don’t stop.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Tell me you like when I’m in control.”
He’s so pushing it, and yet, I have to admit, I rather like it. “I do like giving up control.”
His grin is wide. Cat-that-ate-the-canary wide.
I have to narrow my eyes.
He ignores my stare and drops his head back down.
And right now I don’t care about anything else because his face is right where I want it, and unlike the way too many times before, this time he doesn’t stop. He licks and sucks me until I see unicorns and rainbows and stars and scream out in pleasure.
And then, just to be nice, he does it again.
When I’m spent, he pulls me up into his arms. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Putting on my most serious face, I tell him, “You can go now.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
I raise a brow.
And then he smirks at me.
Damn it! He’s too good.
“Have you not learned your lesson yet?” he says, rolling me onto my back and pinning my arms over my head. “Because like I said, I can taste you all night.”
“Uncle!” I shout.
“Uncle? I’m not tickling you.”
“I know, but it’s all I could think of.”
Together, in a fit of laughter, we find our way to the head of the bed.
I turn and rest my head on his chest.
He rolls me over to spoon me.
I roll back. “Keen,” I whisper.
“Yeah, Maggie?” he asks in the sexiest, raspiest sex-induced voice I’ve ever heard.
“When you asked who fucked me over in the head, I lied to you. I never talk about this. Makayla knows, and she is the only one besides my mother.”
“You can trust me.”
I nod. “It was my father, and I was nine years old.”
In a flash, he rises on his elbows, gripping the sheets. “What do you mean?”
I lift my gaze to his. “Nothing like that. For as long as I could remember, whenever I’d ask my mother who my father was, she’d say he was a very important man who had very important work to do for the state of California. She never told me he was the governor, but I knew he was. His picture hung in the hall of our school, and every day I’d stare at his image and wish he’d come for me. I imagined him riding in on a white horse and taking me away. How silly is that?”
“You were a kid—not silly at all.”
I shrug. “Well anyway, one day my mother received a call from my father and he asked for us to come to him, and I just knew he was ready to meet me and make me a part of his life.”
Keen pushes a piece of hair from my face.
I suck in a breath and go on. “We drove more than six hours up the coast to Sacramento. I remember my grandmother begging my mother not to go, but she insisted it was time I met my father.”
Keen shifts so we’re facing each other and he looks really concerned.
I give him a slight smile. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
He nods.
“The whole way up there I thought I was finally going to have a real family like all my friends at school. But then as soon as we pulled into the Governor’s Mansion, we were ushered through the employee entrance and taken into a very private room. I thought it was weird we didn’t get to walk in through the grand front entrance. Yet, still I waited in my new dress for my powerful father to come and be a part of my life. We waited for hours until someone finally came in. It was a nurse, and she whispered something to my mother. My mother started to cry but told me to be brave while the nice nurse took a sample of my blood.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Keen asks in shock.
“Yeah, my dear old dad wanted proof that I was his. And we waited three more hours, at which time an older man in a suit came in. I knew he wasn’t my father since I’d seen my father’s picture. He sat down beside my mother and took some documents out of his briefcase. Turns out dear old dad wanted her to sign a gag order in exchange for a million dollars. To get her to promise never to tell anyone I
was his, he was going to pay my mother off.”
Keen gently places his hand on my hip. “Why after all that time would he do that?”
“He was going to run for the highest office in the nation, and the President of the United States could not possibly have an illegitimate child.” I laugh. “He never made it that far.”
“What did your mother do?”
I smile. “She told that attorney to go fuck himself, and took me home.”
“Good for her.”
“It wasn’t long after that that she took the job in New York City.”
“Because of him?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I think so. I think she just wanted to get far away from him and all the political bullshit.”
“I guess I can understand that. And you’ve still never met him?”
“Nope. He died two years ago and left me a letter.”
“What did it say?”
I shrug. “I never opened it. Just gave it to my mother and told her to burn it.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to—his eyes say it all.
I give me another reassuring smile. “I have to admit, I learned a valuable lesson that day while I waited to meet him.”
Sadness fills his eyes that a moment ago were filled with compassion. “What lesson is that, Maggie?”
I suck in a breath and then blow it out. “That dreams never come true, and that the only way to have control of your life is to take it.”
Keen pulls me to his chest. “I wish I could tell you that wasn’t the truth, but I’d be lying.”
I close my eyes and whisper, “I know. Now we should get some sleep. We have an early flight to New York to catch.”
After a kiss to the top of my head, Keen settles on the pillow beside mine.
And then I fall asleep, waking in the middle of the night from a dream about white horses.
How ridiculous.
Keen
Simon Warren is about men’s fashion.
Everyone in this company has their role. Cam is trying to refine those roles while at the same time trying to grow his company.
My role is to see the big picture for Simon Warren.
Before I can do that, I have to understand the very core of this company’s existence—fashion.