Kept by Him (5 page)

She’d never worn something so … sheer before, especially when seduction had been out
of the question and the last thing she’d wanted was to invite a man’s sexual advances.
But today, she had herself a new arrangement, so she’d stopped at the Saks lingerie
department to make a couple of extravagant purchases.

Trying on this flimsy sheer white peignoir at the store, she had imagined Daniel removing
it, talking to her like he had last night, and her nipples had throbbed as they rasped
against the material, just the thought of him getting her aroused.

The skirt fell in a waterfall down to her feet, parted in the middle and held only
by three strategically placed satin ribbons, one at her collar, one between her breasts,
and one at her waist.

The style was designed for her legs to peek out top to bottom as she walked, and if
he dared to part the material, he would get a perfect view of her bare pussy. Which
was already wet in anticipation.

She didn’t know if other women dressed up for their special friends, but then there
was no way anyone had a friend like Daniel Lexington. He was the man every woman wanted
to land, and he was on his way to Monica.

He, who’d been called “one of the country’s most eligible bachelors” by
People
magazine and “Prince of Chicago bluebloods” by
Forbes,
was on his way here. He, who’d held her when she was nineteen and had made her have
every
kind of fantasy a girl her age could have. All of them starring him. All of them
scaring her to death.

Her body liked him. Very much. Too much.

And she did not like the uncontrollable urges this aroused in her.

This was exactly why she enjoyed the peace and tranquility of a more mature relationship,
based on shared tastes in lectures, food, interests, rather than sexual attraction.
She mentally didn’t enjoy the lack of discipline in such passionate responses to a
man. In fact, it made her nervous to feel so … strongly toward anyone. But if she
ever wanted to consolidate her relationship with Roland, she had no other choice but
to venture into this unchartered territory until she had it down nicely.

A week of this and she’d probably no longer cringe when another man put his hands
on her. When Roland begged to get her back, she would be able to kiss him without
seizing up inside.

In fact, he was going to flip with the new and improved version of Monica Davenport
when he saw her at the gala—where they were supposed to “talk” once more. He’d wanted
her to decide whether she really wanted to be with him, and she had loathed to see
him so hurt the last time they’d attempted to have sex. She had methodically decided
that she
did
want him; he was perfect for her, and she was going to prove it to him with Daniel’s
help.

The phone trilled, and the doorman alerted her he was on his way up to her penthouse.
Flutters spread through her system as she went to pour wine, dismayed to find that
she had to take a quick drink for courage.

Ding.

Holding her breath, she turned as he stepped out of the elevator, and at her first
sight of him, her body felt as charged as though she’d gotten a shot of adrenaline
straight in her veins. Flutters exploded in her stomach.

Clad in a dark black gabardine that made his hair look even blonder, the tousled sun-lightened
streaks calling her fingers, he was a walking, talking sex bomb. “Wow. Did you fly
here?” she said teasingly, feeling warm inside when he smiled.

“I was actually down in the lobby all day, waiting for your summons.” He dropped his
coat on the coat stand, and he was wearing no tie. His hair was in disarray, his face
incredibly sexy with that slow smile that made her lungs burn, and she had forgotten
how incredibly low and rich his voice was.

She signaled to the wine she’d poured for him. “Wine?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, and he lifted the goblet and sipped, his eyes raking
her form.

She had never been more aware of how revealing her night dress was. White and whispery
as a breath, it displayed her body underneath almost as if she were completely nude
to him. Every inch of her hips, her curves, her belly button, could be seen. Her hair
was loose, falling in perfect waves past her shoulders, but the tips did nothing to
cover the tips of her breasts, and her nipples tightened visibly through the material.

His expression tonight was not as playful as yesterday, she realized with a rapidly
pumping heart. It was dead serious and somber, and his eyes shone with a new predatory
gleam when they finished their foray of her body and returned to hers. Her chest tightened
painfully hard. He’d seen her naked. He’d penetrated her with his fingers. He’d come
in her hand. The blood thrummed through her veins, slowly and powerfully going to
her sex, her breasts, tightening her skin.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, for lack of anything else to say, for lack of the courage
to tell him,
Do me! Do me! Do me now!

His green gaze literally ate her up as he took another drink, then he set it aside.
“So the little princess needs to be tucked in.”

“It was either you or valerian.”

“He sounds old and definitely not straight, princess.”

“It’s an herb,” she said, laughing.

A full toe-curling smile flashed, and he reached out to rub his fingers along the
bottom bow of her peignoir. He stared at her mouth with undisguised hunger, and she
stared at his in return, her heart beating with wild tension. Her voice came out a
croak. “I’m really nervous this time.”

There was a lengthened silence, both of them standing utterly still, then Daniel cupped
her neck in his big hand, the slow stroke of his thumb sending shivers down her skin.
“It’s just me,” he murmured, and he slowly reeled her in, until her breasts were grazing
sensually against his chest, his erection nestled between her legs, his eyes were
so dilated they were almost black.

His finger slid up and down her cleavage, where the fabric had parted. Then it slid
higher to seize her chin and keep her gaze focused on his face, raw with desire. “I
like you with your hair down. You look soft and inviting.” The raw male lust in his
eyes caressed her like his words, and her body responded, her nipples visibly erect
and poking into the flimsy material of her peignoir just as his eyes dropped to take
them in again. “And I like what you’re wearing, too.”

Trembling to her bones, she pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his dress
slacks and began to slowly unbutton it. “Are you going to make me take it off, or
will you do it?”

His eyes glimmered, and her breaths became uneven as he bent his head. “Whatever the
lady wants.” Her stomach clenched in needy anticipation as his lips grazed hers, just
a whisper. Her breath tangled in her throat when they grazed hers again, then his
hands slid into the mass of her hair as he spoke, his voice getting thicker and thicker.
“Are you just mine to play with for now … or are you planning to be friendly with
anyone else?”

He sounded possessive. Extremely possessive. Ecstasy trembled through her and she
didn’t know why, but she slid her hands up his hard abdomen and eased his shirt off
his powerful shoulders. “Just you. All my other special friends were busy.”

“Ahhh. Then I’m so glad I passed on all those other offers, too.”

She didn’t laugh. She couldn’t. Instead she felt a wave of jealousy rise within her,
followed by a harsh wave of longing so intense that she couldn’t wait a single second
more wondering what his lips felt like. She’d wondered at nineteen … at twenty … at
twenty-one.… She wondered now what would have happened if she hadn’t been so afraid
of what she felt.…

It felt right to wrap her arms around his neck and set her mouth on his lips, like
she’d spent years waiting for it, as right as breathing. He was motionless as though
afraid she would reject him again, so she dared to lick his lips as soon as she could,
and he shuddered, a tremor rushing along his muscled body. Suddenly he parted open
and the kiss became his, and he took control of it so fiercely her senses spun.

Her head fell back under the onslaught, sustained only by his fists on her hair, his
lips firm and pressing hers apart so his tongue could probe her, taste her. She hadn’t
expected the taste of his kiss to release such a deep need inside her, but her entire
body was shaken with tremors when he grabbed her closer to his hard body and pushed
her lips apart even wider.

Her brain shut down as he roughly suckled the flesh of her lower lip into his mouth,
and she couldn’t help but go inside his mouth, greedy and thirsty. He groaned; she
loved it. Felt it in her core, her womb.

She’d never kissed anyone so primitively, so instinctively. He tasted indescribably
male. Dark, somehow, like espresso. He dragged his mouth to her ear, his voice like
she had never heard it before.

“Come here and let me enjoy my new toy, Monica.”

He gripped her waist in his big hands and lifted her in the air until her breasts
were on his mouth. He nipped one nipple with his lips, the flimsy peignoir proving
no barrier against his sudden kiss, the dampness of his mouth. A moan rose unbidden
within her as he turned to nip the other one.

His mouth engulfed it with the fabric and everything, and her senses honed in on his
heat, his tongue … all of her mind became engaged at once. A tremor rushed through
her, her body aloft in the air, her only contact to this earth were his hands on her
waist and the burning heat of his mouth, going from one nipple, to the other, dampening
her through the fabric. Her pussy was on fire.

She felt, almost in slow motion, as he started lowering her, her partly naked body
sliding down the length of his to feel the forceful strength of his chest, the iron
bulge of his erection.

Unwilling to let go, her legs curled and tightened around his hips before she hit
the floor, her arms tight around his neck as she pressed her face into his. “You know,
I have a bed,” she whispered, and he filled his hands with the firm flesh of her bottom,
anchoring her to him as he carried her across the hall in the most rousingly sexy
thing any man had ever done for her. “The last room,” she murmured breathlessly.

He smelled good, so good she wanted to bury her nose in his neck, his hair. He set
her at the edge of the mattress and spread open her peignoir with almost brusque,
eager hands, and her blood surged at his touch, from her fingertips to her toes.

His blond head was bent as he unfastened one more string tied around her middle, his
eyelashes two half moons against his cheekbones, his lips perfection. Full and fleshy,
perfectly formed. She creamed as he inched back and tossed the flimsy nightgown aside,
Monica naked for his perusal.

Quietly engrossed with his expression of pure, unabashed lust, she watched him stroke
an open hand up her stomach, then he circled his thumb around her belly button before
he bent to lick.

Her breasts became heavy and swollen, the nipples straining pink and forward, and
then Daniel set one slow, dry kiss on each wanton nipple tip. She was so aroused by
the time he lifted his head, he could’ve set off a thousand fireworks inside her the
very instant he penetrated her.

With heavy-lidded eyes, he gazed down at the apex between her legs, parting them nimbly
with his hands, surveying the pink petals already glistening with arousal. “No problems
making mental lists now, do we…?” he murmured.

He touched her slick lips with his fingertip, the touch sending new spirals of bliss
surging through her.

She was aware of the fabric of his shirt caressing his skin as he moved, the way his
cock pressed a bulge into his pants and almost touched her at the knee. She noticed
the pair of candles she’d lit on her nightstands and suddenly felt like she flickered
on the inside, deep inside, like them, slowly burning for him.

She watched him stand back and work on his belt. Him. Prince of the Windy City. She
remembered him coming apart for her. Climaxing all raw and undone. In his clothes.
Under her hand.

It hurt to remember, and she squirmed, her breathing suddenly going fast and needy
as he pushed off his dark dress slacks, designer belt and all.

Her eyes blurred at the sight of his erection. Every square of his abdomen was perfect,
his navel smooth and flat as it led to a blond thatch of curls, a shade darker than
his hair, from where he rose magnificently upward. Her nipples became hard as diamonds,
the flesh of her sex swelling as she watched him reach to the nightstand and pull
out an ice cube shaped like a half moon from a glass of water she’d brought to her
bedroom just after texting him.

Anticipation made her heart thunder as she watched him slide it into his mouth. Weak,
she fell back on the bed as he bent over her, one of his knees wedged between both
her thighs, his arms folded at the sides of her head. She shuddered when their lips
locked and he passed the ice to her, hot and cold and liquid, into her mouth. Sensations
rushed through her as their tongues worked around the ice to taste each other.

He drew it back from her with a gentle suckle, then took it in his fingers and set
it down on one hard nipple, circling. She gasped, a chilling pleasure lancing through
her. “
Ohh.
”

He did the same with the other nipple, watching with tenderly violent green eyes that
ate her up like he could survive on the vision of her getting all worked up with arousal.

She bucked as the cold clashed with the heat inside her, creating a powerful combo
that caused all the cells in her body to burst awake to the sensations. Her hands
fisted on the bed sheets at her sides as a shiver raced, hot and cold, down her spine.
“
Ohhhhh.
”

Following the ice, he bent his head and gently suckled, warming her cooled nipple
with his mouth for one long, heady minute, before the ice returned. She clamped her
teeth and tossed her head back, her pussy creaming in relentless need as the ice made
contact with the heated flesh of her nipples again. “Are you thinking of anything …
but the way the ice melts into your skin?” His voice was so rough, she hardly understood
him.