by Jane Henry
I raised a brow and she smiled, her lids half-lowered, giving her a fetching look. I slapped her ass, hard. She breathed in hard, and continued. “You’re big. You’re strong. And I feel like…I’m yours.”
My chest constricted. It had to be the wine talking. Where was the snark? The brat in her?
I leaned in and kissed the shell of her ear, then flicked my tongue out, carefully edging the soft, tender skin, the intimate feel of her warm body pressed up against mine making my heartbeat accelerate. “All mine,” I whispered in her ear before I took her lobe between my teeth. I bit down lightly, then released it and continued to whisper. “All mine, and no one will come between us. Do you hear me, little girl? No one.”
I trailed kisses down her neck, loving the way her body rose to meet each kiss, how her head fell back in abandon when I got to her chest. I lifted the soft cotton edge of her night shirt, tossing it on the floor as I continued to kiss every inch of her curvy, voluptuous body. I laid her back on the bed and got to my knees in front of her, parting her legs and gently drawing down her shorts. I pressed my lips against the small slip of fabric at the apex of her thighs, and her hips rose as I teased her. Slowly, so slowly that she whimpered, I slipped a finger to push the edge of the panties over, and when I found her wet and wanting for me, I flicked my tongue along her clit. She grabbed onto my hair, her hips rising as I barely touched her, teasing, needing her to beg me before I gave in to what she wanted.
“What do you want?” I growled.
“Your mouth! Please.”
“Like this?” I asked, flicking my tongue harder against her clit, just enough to make her back arch again before I removed my mouth. “Or like this?” I sucked her clit into my mouth, and her hips writhed in response.
“Oh God,” she begged. “Please don’t stop.”
I squeezed the hot cheeks of her ass between my hands as I took my time teasing her soft, feminine curves. She tasted so fucking good. She’d come hard after a spanking, I was sure of it. I released her right ass cheek and ran a hand up her side, pausing just long enough to tweak a nipple as I licked her pussy, until she writhed, coming hard against my mouth, so hard I had to hold her hips to anchor her. I wasted no time unbuckling my belt and swishing it through the loops. I doubled it in my hands, bent her over, and snapped the folded leather on her naked skin. She screamed out loud, then moaned, as I threw the belt to the floor, shoved my boxers down, and opened her up for me.
Leaning down to hold myself over her, I whispered in her ear. “Are you on the pill?”
She nodded.
“I want to take you now, Annabelle, and I want to do it bare. I want to feel your hot pussy gripping me when you come. I’ve been tested, and I haven’t been with anyone this way in years.”
She bit her lip. “Do it. Take me now.”
I nodded. I was barely holding onto what little self control I had as it was. “Yeah, baby,” I whispered. “I want you, too. Just let me know if I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
To my surprise, tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked through them and smiled. “See? You wouldn’t hurt me, not ever.”
I leaned in and kissed her tenderly, holding her sweet mouth in mine as I slowly, so slowly it hurt me, entered her. She gasped but did not cry out as I gently thrust in her, her tight pussy milking my cock better than anything I could’ve imagined.
I closed my eyes to the wonder of it all, wanting this moment to last forever, but needing more, needing friction. With careful, measured thrusts I built a rhythm. She was so tight, so perfect. I moved in her like we were meant to be together like this. My heartbeat raced as I claimed her, every thrust of my hips making her moan, her little fingers digging into my back until I couldn’t hold out any longer and let myself go, the power of my climax overtaking me. I growled in her ear, needing to hold her tight, and she climaxed as well, shaking with pleasure as I rendered her helpless beneath me.
“Beautiful,” I whispered. “So fucking beautiful.”
Her eyes were closed but her cheeks wet. “Stunning,” she finally said.
And as I held her in the darkness, I pushed away all the doubts that threatened to rob us of our joy. No, this would not last. It could not last. But I’d take what I could, and I’d take care of her for as long as she’d allow me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Annabelle
I laid with my eyes closed in the darkness, sleep threatening to overcome me. I didn’t want to sleep, though. I wanted to remember this moment. Where would I be a month from now? I never wanted to forget the feel of him beside me, his huge, hulking frame as gentle as a tamed lion, holding me against his chest as I faced him, snuggled up next to him, skin-to-skin. The prickles of his chest hair tickled my cheek. I clenched my thighs together, already the slight pain of him claiming me fading, as I reveled in the quiet stillness of my first-ever time making love.
How could I ever have imagined what it would have been like, being taken by him, his firm but gentle touch, his bridled strength making me wet for him before he even touched me? He was a full-grown man, bearer of terrible secrets, so filthy rich he wanted for nothing. Larger than life. He was arrogant and angry and had a temper that scared me, sometimes. But he could be sweet, and kind, and gentle. My big, beastly, gentle giant of a man.
“Are you tired?” he asked, before he reached for my hand and brought my fingers to his lips. His warm mouth made me draw even closer to him.
“Very.” My voice seemed as if it were a good distance away. I was so tired I could sleep for hours and hours.
“Then sleep, sweetheart. We arrive in Paris in four more hours. Rest while you can. Rest here with me, and I’ll hold you.”
My cheek against his big, broad chest, one knee hitched up on his, warm in the soft bed, lulled by the gentle hum of the engines, I fell asleep.
I woke with a start.
“It’s alright, Annabelle,” Sawyer’s voice assured me. I blinked in the darkness of the dimly-lit cabin, trying to locate him. He sat in the armchair adjacent to the bed. He was bent over, tying his shoelaces. “We hit a bit of turbulence, but we’ll be landing in about ten minutes. My pilot knows what he’s doing, and we will be fine.”
I sat up and pulled the sheets up to my shoulders. My head hurt a little, and it felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I closed my eyes and put a hand to my temple, massaging.
“Too much wine?” he asked. “You’ll drink water and I’ll get some food.”
My stomach rolled with nausea, and I shook my head.
“No food?” he asked. I shook my head again.
His voice dropped, sterner now. “I knew that was too much wine for you. You’re too young to drink that much.”
I heard him get to his feet though my eyes were still shut tight, then the rustle of clothing moving approached me as he came to where I sat. I started at the feel of his hand on my neck, and his mouth came to my ear to whisper, “You’ve seen that I can be gentle, but I still expect you to do what I say. And that, young lady, is non-negotiable. You had too much to drink, but I’ll take care of you.”
My fucking body would tense and heat at those words. I was thankful the sheet covered my nipples, which no doubt stood erect.
“Yes, Daddy.”
God, I wanted him to take me again. My pussy pulsed, a responding clench low in my belly.
“Let’s get you up and dressed,” he said, releasing my neck and sadly, moving away from me. He reached for a bag in an overhead bin, and tossed it on the bed. I unzipped it, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a top, some panties, and a lace-edged bra, simple but clearly very well made. From another bag he handed me a pair of black ballet flats that looked both sturdy and adorable. Simple but nice.
“Dress,” he said, snapping a tie in his hand and threading it across his neck. I blinked and looked up at him. He wore a white shirt, and a charcoal-gray suit that fit him to perfection. He looked freshly showered and ready to go. I fairly drooled.
“How di
d you do that?” I asked. He reached down to the bedside table and removed a bottle of water, twisted it open, and handed it to me.
“Drink,” he ordered. “Do what?”
“Look like you’re ready to hit Wall Street with the best of them. You look phenomenal.”
He grinned, showing the whites of his teeth, before shrugging. “I slept like a baby, got cleaned up, and got dressed. Nothing to it, really.”
“I probably look as if I slept in your back pocket.”
His eyes twinkled at me. “I wish you slept in my back pocket.”
I giggled, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and tossing the sheets aside. I stepped over to the bathroom and flicked the light switch outside the door. I shut the door, and heard him answer his phone, speaking in his typically clipped, business-as-usual tone of voice. I shivered.
I found a soft peach wash cloth, lathered it up, and quickly cleaned myself, brushed my teeth, and fixed my hair, dabbing on a bit of make-up just before I heard Sawyer calling my name from the other side of the door.
“Be right out,” I said.
“You’d better,” he told me. “We’re pulling in for a landing now, and I want you out here, seated, and buckled.”
So damned bossy and overprotective.
I rolled my eyes at my reflection in the mirror.
“Are you rolling your eyes at me?”
No fair! I scowled instead. “No.”
“No frowning at me either, little girl. Now get your ass out here.”
I swung open the door and stared at him, with a mixture of astonishment, irritation, and awe. “How did you do that? Do you have a camera in here or something?”
He smirked. “You’re just predictable. You roll eyes, then scowl.”
I began to roll my eyes but he held up a warning finger and shook his head.
At that moment, the plane lurched. I tried to grab onto something to steady myself but there was nothing but the smooth surface of the door. I went careening forward, but Sawyer was fast. He caught me, just before I slammed into the little end table in the cabin of the jet. He led me to a seat, leaned over, and buckled the belt for me. “Now sit, and be a good girl.”
I did, feeling both miffed and turned on by his high handedness at the same time, just as a voice came over the speaker.
“We’ve begun our descent. We’ll arrive in Paris momentarily.”
I was thankful Sawyer sat next to me when we landed, because the jolt from the wheels touching down seriously freaked me out. I hadn’t been on a plane before, and this was downright scary. I wondered if we were going to crash, but Sawyer assured me that we wouldn’t. He held my hand, though, squeezing gently. I stared at his hands. His fingers were as large as sausages, his pinky easily the size of my thumb. Fine, dark hair covered the top of his hand, just enough to make him look masculine and a bit scary without being creepy. I could get used to this, this giant beast of a man holding my hand like this.
“You did a good job,” he said, with an edge of pride. “People don’t always like the landing. It doesn’t bother me that much, but I get that it might bother others.”
“It doesn’t scare you? How is that possible?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to me.” He smiled as if he were joking, but something about his eyes told me he was not.
“Well, maybe I care about what happens to you,” I said with a frown.
He smiled, then, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That would be nice.”
He reached over and hit the button that said “Do not disturb” so the sign went dark, and a moment later, the door to the cockpit swung open and Worthington stepped into the room. I grimaced. If I had any idea it was Worthington in the cockpit with the pilot, I don’t know if I’d have done what I did on that bed. God! I glanced guiltily back at the bed where the telltale tousled sheets told a story, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but neither Sawyer nor Worthington appeared to notice.
“Welcome to Paris,” Worthington said with a smile. “It is precisely 4 a.m. here, and the business world is just beginning to wake. Our contacts in Asia are prepared for a 6 a.m. conference call, Mister Gryffin. I’m assuming you’ll be ready?”
“Of course,” Sawyer responded, releasing my hand and rising. “Let’s go, Annabelle.”
I stood, and the little imp in me wanted to call him daddy, right here, where anyone could hear, but I bit my lip. Though a part of me wanted to be entertained by unsettling Worthington, I knew that Sawyer wouldn’t approve. And all I needed was another trip over his knee. Hell, I didn’t really like his disapproval anyway. It appeared he could read the little imp, though, as he leaned in and whispered to my ear, “Watch yourself, sweetheart. I can feel you ready to defy me even now.”
I frowned, my head still hurting, and winced at the bright light when the overhead light came on.
“We’ll get you something for that headache,” he said, taking my bag out of my hand.
“I can take my—”
He silenced me with a look. Alrighty, then. It appeared I would not be carrying any bags.
The door to the jet opened, revealing a smooth, paved walkway.
“Local regulations make us land in the airport,” he said, “though we don’t have to do the same on our return trip.”
Tired, my head still pounding, I allowed myself to be led to a waiting car. A driver opened the door, and I settled into the plush seat where we rode in silence for about ten minutes before we pulled down a narrow street.
“This is…this is amazing.” I could hardly breathe. I forgot about my headache and the last twangs of nausea. This was unlike anything else I could’ve ever imagined. The sun was just rising in the distance, shades of pink and light blue mingling with the light, casting an ethereal glow over the most beautiful garden I’d ever laid eyes on as it passed our window. A brick wall surrounded what could only be described as an estate. The garden teemed with flowers, the trellis peppered with ivy.
“Oh, Daddy,” I said, not even halting as the daddy tumbled out of my lips, “This is breathtaking. Where are we?”
“You like it?” he asked, his handsome face lighting up at my praise.
“Like it? I feel as if I’ve stepped out of reality and right into the pages of a fairy tale.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling. My tummy dipped. He was hot as hell when he was stern, or serious, but his smile was positively panty-melting.
“This is another one of my homes. I do business here a good portion of the year.” I found myself reaching for him. I needed him to hold me. It was too much for me to take, sitting there beside him, drinking it all in. I needed to feel how real he was. He leaned in, his breath making the hairs on my neck stand on end. “Thank you for joining me, sweetheart.”
I shivered in delight.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sawyer
I always enjoyed Paris, but never as much as when I had Annabelle with me. I needed her to see how lovely it was here, to show her that there was more beyond the small, insulated town where she’d grown up. Here was an iconic place for her to enjoy, the most beautiful place that I felt was almost magical. Here, I’d make her mine.
“This is incredible,” she said, walking around the garden, looking at the flowers and stone benches with an awestruck expression.
“Mister Gryffin, your first meeting begins in an hour,” Worthington reminded me. I dismissed him with a wave of my hand.
“I know,” I said. “But I need to take care of Annabelle.”
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” she assured me, walking with wondrous eyes toward the entrance to my home. “I mean, surely something could occupy my time?” She looked at me, her eyes wide and expectant.
“Your headache is gone?” I asked with a quirked brow.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course. I’m fine now!”
I smiled. It would be my pleasure to take her out to dinner this evening, to treat her to the finest wines, to spoil her with pastries a
nd fine food. Then I would take her back to my home…
“I know how you can occupy yourself,” I said, doing my best to get my head back in the game, to stop thinking about laying her down and fucking her senseless, of taking her mouth with mine, or having her suck my cock. I would not be the beast to her. I would what she needed — her lover, her caretaker, the one who met her every need.
Her daddy.
I put my arm out to her and crooked my elbow, welcoming her to take it. Shyly, she did, her hand feeling so incredibly soft and fragile. “You said you like to read, didn’t you?” I asked.
“Like?” she retorted with a laugh. “I spent my entire childhood reading, and have memorized every word of my favorite books.” She smiled. “There is no frigate like a book…”
“To take us lands away,” I supplied.
She beamed. “I didn’t know you could do that. Emily Dickinson?”
I merely shrugged. “There are many things you don’t know about me, sweetheart.” I opened the door, and held it ajar for her, beckoning her to enter.
Several servants stood in the shadows, awaiting my instructions but prepared to stay silent and out of my way. In the large, airy entryway the floors gleamed, polished wood reflecting the overhead lights, and in front of us lay the majestic, sweeping staircase that led to the second floor. To the right lay my office, where I’d take my meetings today, and to the left lay one of my favorite places in the mansion — the library.
Releasing her arm, I stepped forward and pushed open the doors. The silver handles clicked open, the bottom of the door swishing over plush navy-blue carpet. I stepped in, taking in a deep breath, like I always did. I found the scent of books, mingled with the aroma of the wood on the shelves, peppered with the faintest aroma of the Cubans I favored, one of the most relaxing smells. I enjoyed a good cigar as I sat on the balcony and watched over the twinkling lights of Paris proper. There was something magical and otherworldly about it, and I loved having my own little secluded spot and not having to account to anyone in the small town to where I was chained. I loved my trips to Paris, but hadn’t known how much more I would enjoy them with Annabelle by my side.