by Amy Marie
I need air. “Want to go for a walk?”
She nods, and without another word, I pay the bill, and we walk silently down Thirty-Fourth Street. Cyn’s eyes are open wide, and she’s taking in every sight and sound New York City has to offer. Ten minutes into our walk, I’m smiling while watching her gaze up in wonder.
“Careful, you’re starting to look like a tourist,” I joke, bumping her shoulder.
She glances down. “Sorry. It’s just that as long as I’ve lived here, I’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building. The city must look beautiful from up there.”
“I thought going to the top of the Empire State Building was a mandatory rite of passage to gain official New Yorker status.”
Cyn hugs her arms over her chest and shrugs. “I could never justify the money. Plus, who wants to see it all alone?” Turning toward me, she stops and points toward the tower. “Do you know how many people have gotten engaged up there? It might be bad luck to fly solo. I’d probably end up in the background of someone’s engagement photo. But hey, that would prove I was there, right? At least based on the social-media theory, which requires photographic proof of conquest.” She shakes her head, her little nervous rant coming to an abrupt end.
“Those are some deep thoughts, Miss Ellis.”
Grinning, she shoulder checks me back and resumes our walk. “I’m a deep person, Mr. Knight.”
A thought pops into my head, and before I can force it back where it should go, it reroutes through some secret passageway in my face and exits my mouth. “I’ll tell you what—I know where there’s an even better view.”
She lifts a curious eyebrow. “Better than the top of the Empire State Building?” Don’t nod. I nod, and she smirks. “If I go there with you, do I get my sketch pad back?”
Don’t fucking nod. I nod again. Okay, fine, but that’s it. No more stupid shit.
Then I grin and offer her my arm. She takes it and beams up at me. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Chapter 11
Kellen
Beautiful.
If it wouldn’t win me Creeper of the Year, I’d pull out my phone and take a picture of her just like she is right now, draped over the edge of my terrace railing, the wind blowing her hair, only the smooth skin of her back visible.
Then I’d blow it up and hang it on my wall.
I join her, standing by her side as I refill her wine glass. She regards me curiously while taking an indulgent drink. I’m a master negotiator, so I say nothing while waiting for her to crack first.
Silence.
A secret smile dances across her lips. Those perfect, full lips. The ones that taste like goddamn candy. My pulse roars in my ears, and I’m about to cave when she turns away from the ledge and leans against it.
“Better view, huh? Does that line work on every girl, or am I just extra gullible?”
I grin. “It’s not a line.”
“Right.” She laughs, raising her glass again. “Next, you’ll tell me I’m the first girl you’ve brought up here.”
It feels like someone punched me in the chest. All day there’s been an angel and a devil on each shoulder battling for control of my conscience. In one phrase, she hit the devil with a right hook he never saw coming.
“You are,” I confess.
All traces of amusement fade from Cyn’s face. “Kellen, please. I may be a little naïve, but I’m not stupid. You have a reputation.”
I shake my head, mad at myself for daring to even think I could escape a life bigger than the man living it.
Reality is a motherfucker sometimes.
“Ah, yes. The tabloids. Well, I certainly live a very fulfilling life, don’t I?” With a glass in one hand and the wine bottle in the other, I spread my arms wide and smirk. “Let’s see, how many times have I been engaged this year? Two? Three? Let’s not forget the secret child I had last summer. Being a father is so daunting. All the invisible children running around really curtails my manwhoring.”
Cyn holds up a hand. “Okay, you’ve made your point. I shouldn’t believe everything I read. It’s not true.”
Damn right it’s not.
“I don’t pretend to be anything but who I am, Cyn. Have I enjoyed the company of various women? Yes. I’ve never claimed to be a saint. But I’m not lying when I tell you I’ve never brought a single one of them up here. My home is sacred to me. It’s a sanctuary from all the bullshit. Out there I’m Kellen Knight, CEO. Here… here I’m just Kellen.”
“Why me?” she asks, taking me off guard.
“Why not you?”
“I’m serious, Kellen.” Taking a risk, she sets her wine glass on the table, then takes both the glass and the bottle out of my hands and places them beside it. “Why me?” she asks again, stepping closer. “You can have your pick of any girl in New York, hell, in the country, maybe even the world. I might have the Ellis name, but that’s all. I’m a penniless assistant to a shallow, self-absorbed stepsister. You can’t risk being photographed with me, and I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. So why me? Why am I here?”
Lavender. Fucking lavender invading my senses like a damn emotional terrorist.
“Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that same question?” I growl. “Not because of your name or your bank account. I couldn’t give two shits about them. I keep telling myself all I want is one night with you. A chance to get this obsession out of my system.” I shake my head and glance up at the stars as if they can fix this clusterfuck of a mess I’ve gotten myself into. “You all but handed that to me tonight on a silver platter, and instead of taking you to my fuck pad, I brought you here.”
Her eyes widen. “You have a fuck pad?”
Shit. Danger. Retreat, soldier.
“Not important.” I redirect her attention by cupping her cheek. “The point is that no matter how much I want to deny it, you’re special. I knew it from the minute you wobbled onto that set in those high heels.” Cyn laughs at the memory, and damn it, just the sound causes a strange fluttering sensation in my chest.
Great. On top of everything, I’m probably having a heart attack.
“You’re different. You light a fire inside me that I don’t know how to put out. All I know is that I get up every morning with you on my mind and go to bed the same way.” I sigh, the words coming out of my mouth foreign and uncomfortable. “I’m in uncharted waters here, Cyn. I don’t know what the hell this is, but I don’t want to screw it up. I—”
Before I can finish my thought, Cyn jumps into my arms. I catch her before we both topple over, my hands wrapped tightly around her waist and her toes dangling off the floor. Then she’s kissing me. A frantic, all-consuming kiss accompanied by her fingers tangling in my hair and her tongue demanding entrance past my lips. I groan between her pants, taking each kiss and selfishly demanding more.
“More.” The word slips out as she bites my lip, obliging my request with a moan and an urgency that deprives me of air and tests my willpower. I feel like a starving man being presented the finest feast, and all I have to do is sink my teeth in and devour it.
Then she gasps my name.
One sigh. Six letters. And a whole lot of guilt.
Fuck.
You told her she was different, the angel on my shoulder whispers. Special. Not like the rest.
He’s right. If we take this any further, all that’ll prove is that she was right about me. That she was right not to trust me. That she’s just a fuck-pad girl.
So, calling upon every ounce of restraint and self-control, I pull away and gently lower her to her feet. As she brushes over my erection, I seriously question the angel’s wisdom.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
“Oh.”
Oh. It’s all she says, but she doesn’t need to say more. Rejection is written all over her face.
“Hey,” I say, taking her face in my hands. “Don’t do that. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
She snorts.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I told you—I don’t want to screw this up. Cut me some slack. This gentleman shit isn’t easy, you know.”
A slow smile tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Are you sure this isn’t some elaborate ruse to get me to sleep with you?”
I’m a little insulted she thinks my game is that simplistic.
“There’s no ruse, and no scheme to get you into bed.” Both eyebrows shoot up, and I laugh. “Well, maybe initially there was, but not now.”
There’s a comfortable silence, and I think we’re actually turning a corner, when she glances toward the door. “It’s getting late.”
It’s eleven thirty, but okay.
However, I don’t want her to go. I enjoy her company too much, and the last thing I want to do is sit around psychoanalyzing that revelation.
That’s when the idea hits.
“I’ll take you home if you’d like, but I do have a spare room.” I raise my hands before she can object. “No strings. It’s just that I know where you live, and with all due respect, it’s a shithole.” Her mouth gapes open in protest, but I don’t give her a chance to argue. “I don’t like you living there in the first place, but arriving this late at night makes me uncomfortable. You’ll have a whole wing to yourself.”
She narrows a suspicious gaze at me. “No funny business?”
I hold up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. You can lock your door.”
“Like you don’t have a key,” she huffs.
I was also never a Boy Scout, but I’m not here to argue pointless facts.
Cyn follows me to a part of the penthouse I rarely visit. It’s the guest wing, and since I never have guests, it’s sat untouched for damn near close to two years. It’s obvious, too, by the lack of decor. Muted gray and black tones dominate the room. It’s somber as fuck, befitting the theme of my life.
Yet with Cyn in here, everything seems brighter.
Again, don’t care to analyze that.
I return to my room for a moment to grab a T-shirt and a pair of boxers and lay them both on the bed for her. Cyn glances at them and then back at me.
“I thought it might be more comfortable to sleep in than a ball gown.”
“Right. Of course. Thank you.” She stands there, and I stand there. Neither of us knows what the hell to do, so I give a final nod and turn toward the door. I only make it five steps when she stops me. “Wait, Kellen!”
“Yes?”
“My dress. Could you maybe, um, unzip me?”
I glance up, wondering what in the hell I did in life to deserve such cruel and unusual punishment. With a resigned sigh, I turn and make my way back to the woman who’s testing every limit I have. She spins around, and inch by agonizing inch, I drag the zipper down, more of her creamy, pale skin revealing itself to me.
All I want to do is run my tongue down her spine, then keep going until she screams for mercy.
I need to leave.
But as I shift to go, she grabs my arm, the other barely holding up her dress. “Kellen…”
Christ, I want her. Being noble is some straight-up bullshit.
“Cyn,” I growl. “It’s taking all my willpower not to throw you on that bed and fuck you until you can’t walk straight. But you’ve been drinking.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You’re not sober, either.” Giving up, I trace the seam of her bodice, eliciting a shiver from her. “When I fuck you—and make no mistake, Cyn, I will fuck you—I want complete coherence so you know every single thing I’m doing to you.” She nods in acceptance, and just as the angel raises his hands to rejoice in our victory, the devil shoves him off his perch and whispers, Just because you can’t eat the cake doesn’t mean you can’t lick the icing.
That devil is starting to make a lot of damn sense.
“However,” I say, a wicked grin pulling at my lips “I’m still a man, and I never did get dessert.”
Her scent surrounds me as I take her wrists in my hands and watch as her dress falls to the floor. Cyn doesn’t flinch, her eyes locked on mine. I take a moment and indulge in her body. My humble heiress forwent all undergarments, and I couldn’t be more pleased. She’s both a temptress and an angel at the same time.
Don’t ask me how that’s possible; I don’t know.
All I know is that I want to devour her and then put her on a damn pedestal.
I’m afraid if I touch her the way I want to, I won’t stop. So instead of licking every inch of her, I lead her to the bed and lay her down while sinking to my knees. Her breathing is heavy, and the moment I push her thighs apart, her muscles tense.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “This is all for you.”
“That’s just it,” she whispers, throwing a hand over her face. “I, uh, God, this is so embarrassing.”
“Cyn, I have my face between your legs. I’m pretty sure we’re past shyness.”
“It’s not that. I’ve never done this before.”
I freeze. I was half joking when I told myself she was probably a virgin. “You mean…”
She glances up at me in horror. “What? No. I’ve had sex before, Kellen. I mean… I mean this. What you… Where you…” Letting out a frustrated huff, she flops back onto the bed. “You know.”
It takes me a minute to process those words. Then a few more to pick my jaw up off the floor. “Are you telling me you’ve never had a man taste you?”
She closes her eyes and nods.
I’d be lying if I said this didn’t feel a little like planting a damn flag on the moon. I’m smiling like a motherfucker because just knowing I’m the first man to give her this is some serious shit. I mean, it’s not like I invented orgasms or anything, but after I’m done with her, she’ll see so many bright lights that I might have to change my name to Thomas fucking Edison.
“Well, hold on tight, baby. And don’t forget to breathe.”
“What?” Confused, she pops her head up just as I sink a finger deep inside her. The animalistic howl she lets out is music to my ears. “Oh God!”
Lowering my lips, I press my nose against her pussy and inhale before flattening my tongue and licking her from her opening to her clit. Jesus, she tastes like honey and candy.
The feel of her. The taste of her. The sound of her. The smell of her. My senses are assaulted, and it’s all converging straight to my rock-hard cock. How in the hell can a woman do this to me without even touching me?
“Kellen!”
The harder I pump my finger, the more she claws the bed, so I gently add a second one, and she starts moving her hips to match my rhythm. We’re in such perfect sync that I move my attention to her clit, swirling my tongue and focusing on pushing her to the edge and then bringing her back. Over and over I do this until she’s crying my name and begging for mercy.
“Please, Kellen!”
“Do you want to come, my angel?”
“Yes!”
“Never forget that what’s about to happen is because of me. Your pleasure is mine, Cyn, and don’t you ever forget it.” With that, I anchor her clit between my teeth and gently bite down while swirling my tongue around the engorged bud.
Cyn detonates, screaming so loudly that her voice breaks as her body shatters before me. By the time she floats back down to Earth, I’ve already lifted her all the way onto the bed and tucked her in. She looks delirious.
Delirious and thoroughly fucked.
Even if it was just with my tongue, I’m claiming a total TKO on this one.
I kiss her forehead as she gives me a sleepy grin. “Sweet dreams, beautiful princess.”
Chapter 12
Cyn
Mmm, coffee.
I follow the alluring scent, my limbs loose and rested from one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever experienced. Kellen Knight certainly knows how to spoil his guests.
Yet, he claimed not to bring dates here. He called this place his sanctuary. From the masculine tones and lack of adornments in this part of
his penthouse, it seems to be a legitimate claim. I also only smelled fresh cotton in the bed, no trace of another woman’s perfume.
Unless he usually takes females to his own bed?
I shake my head. Stop overthinking this, Cyn. He didn’t try to sleep with me last night, and even admitted to having a fuck pad. Why would he say those things and not try to seduce me if he didn’t mean them?
Nibbling my lip, I enter the palatial kitchen area to find Kellen in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. He glances over his shoulder at me, his dark eyes smoldering as he surveys every inch of me. “You look good in my clothes.”
I tug on his shirt, heat creeping up my neck. “More comfortable than my dress.”
He sets his mug down and walks over to me, a devilish glimmer in his expression as he cages me in against the island counter. “Good morning, Cyn,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against mine.
Good thing I found that toothpaste in the guest bath, I think as his tongue slips into my mouth to lazily dance with mine.
My fingers skim his torso, adoring all the muscular flesh on display.
Whatever Kellen does to stay in shape, he should keep doing. Because damn. There isn’t an ounce of fat on him. He even has those little divots near the hips. I saw this side of him during the shoot, of course. But having him to myself now creates a more intimate exploration, one my hands are taking full advantage of.
He deepens our kiss as my touch grows bolder, sliding up to his pecs and around to his back.
Mmm, more. He left me with an orgasm last night, not even requesting I return the favor, but I want to now. Maybe he’ll let me have him for breakfast.
His fingers fist in my hair, his tongue taking complete control.
I allow it, too busy drifting my palms downward to cup his ass.
“Cyn,” he hisses against my mouth.
“Kellen,” I return, grazing his lower lip with my teeth.
Dipping my thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, I trace the edges around his hips to his front, my intention clear. The growing hardness against my lower belly tells me he’s in agreement, that he—