Rebellion (A Dangerous Man, #2) (2 page)

He straightens with a low chuckle. “Don’t be in such a rush,
sweetheart,” His voice is gently teasing, “We’re almost there.”

I don’t understand how he can be so calm, when the torrent
of need flowing through me has made me almost incapable of speech. My hands are
shaking with the need to touch him, even the sound of his voice is like an
aphrodisiac, stirring me on. I take a deep breath to steady myself.

The bell dings and the doors open into an immaculate foyer,
which is bigger than the living room of my apartment back in Ashford. The honey-toned
wall paneling complements the perfectly finished dark wood floors, and lovely
paintings of subjects ranging from wildflowers to waterfalls add definition to
the walls. At one end of the room, a set of polished wood double doors lead out
into a large living room.

It’s exceptionally beautiful. On two sides, the walls are
windows, with exquisite views of the Sound, the city, the Mountains beyond, and
many landmarks I can’t yet identify. A couple of artfully placed rugs cover the
polished wood floors. In the perfectly arranged lounge area, there are two
comfortable looking couches and a window seat, where I can instantly see myself
curled up and reading. Further inside, in another carpeted area, there is a
large dining table, with a vase of beautifully arranged flowers sitting on top
of the gleaming wood surface.

Everything is perfect. “Wow.” I breathe, entranced. “It’s so
beautiful.”

He nuzzles my neck, sending a quiver of pleasure flowing
across my body, reminding me of our unfinished business in the elevator, my
body responds immediately, but then he straightens, leaving me feeling a little
disappointed.

I don’t notice the smallish, middle-aged woman until I hear
her voice. “Good afternoon.” She says. Startled at the intrusion, I turn around,
and see her standing behind us. “Welcome to Seattle, Mrs. Preston.” She
continues.

She is smiling at me, her face open and friendly. I smile
back. “Thank you.”

“Sophie, this is Mrs. Daniels, your housekeeper.” David
introduces us as the elevator bell dings and Steve comes in, carrying David’s
suitcase and my luggage as if they weigh nothing.

“Come on,” David turns to me, “let me show you the rest of
the apartment. Mrs. Daniels will unpack your things.”

I nod, wondering as Steve carries my luggage further into
the apartment, if I’ll ever get used to people doing things for me that I’ve
always done by myself.

I let David lead me through the rest of his home, my new
home. I can’t help being excited that I’m going to live in this insanely
beautiful place. Beyond the dining area is a modern kitchen, with equipment I
can’t even identify, let alone use. It has a marble-topped island in the
middle, and a comfortable looking breakfast nook for four.

There is more. David’s study, with dark wood wall paneling
and a soft dark rug, bookshelves filled with books, and another set of floor to
ceiling windows, which provide more spectacular views of the city, Two guest
bedrooms that look beautiful, if unused, and a staircase that leads to a
private terrace with a sparkling blue swimming pool.

I already know that he is rich, but this is luxury. “It’s
more beautiful than I imagined.” I tell him, enchanted with it all.

He doesn’t reply, instead he leads me down the hall to the
last door, the door to the master suite. He places his hand on the door handle
and smiles at me. “Are you ready to see your room, Mrs. Preston?”

My heart quickens. “I believe I am, Mr. Preston.”

He chuckles and opens the door into a huge bedroom.

A soft rug covers the entire floor, and the windows are hung
from floor to ceiling with long white drapes. There are two armchairs and a coffee
table in a corner, and a dressing table with a wide mirror. But it’s the bed
that catches my attention. It is huge, perfectly made and very inviting, taking
up most of the space on one side of the room. It’s a bed to roll around in, a
bed to make love in. I step towards it, moving almost involuntarily.

At the foot of the bed, I stop and run my hands along the
soft linen bedspread. I turn to see if David is following me, and find that he
is right behind me.

His face dips to the back of my neck, moving my hair out of
the way, as he uses his lips to tease the sensitive skin. “Do you like it?” He
whispers, his voice is unmistakably sensual.

I arch my neck, exposing more of my skin to his lips. “Yes.”
I whisper.

He pulls me to him, his hands circling my waist, and molding
my body against his. Sighing softly, I lean back, pressing myself against his
hard body. I feel his erection against the back of my thighs and my body
clenches in sweet need. I moan softly.

“You’re an aphrodisiac.” He murmurs in my ear, his voice
husky. “I want you every minute,” His hands finds my breasts through my clothes
and start to rub them gently from behind.

I close my eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his hands and
the sound of his voice. His hands roam down from my breasts to my thighs.
Gripping the hem of my skirt, he pulls it up until it’s around my waist. I feel
the cool air on my exposed flesh, then his hands, warm, strong, caressing the
softness of my butt, until the heat building between my legs is a pulsing,
raging fire, and I want so much more.

We’re still standing, and my legs are so weak that I have to
lean back against him. He unbuttons my blouse and undoes my bra, pushing it up until
my breasts spill naked into his hands.

I sigh with pleasure when he grabs them, massaging them with
a slow, rhythmic motion while playing with my aching nipples. I moan and press
harder against him, wet and aching, desperate for him to give me what I need.

Still standing, he pulls my panties down and spreads my
legs, stroking me with his fingers. I am so wet, they slip into me very easily,
I hear him groan, and the sound fires my blood. I reach back for his belt, but
he’s faster than I am. He releases me for a moment while he undoes his pants,
the next moment I can feel him, rock hard, pressing insistently against my
thighs.

I shimmy until my panties fall all the way down, and then
step out of them, leaving them discarded on the floor. I spread my legs, aching
for him to fill me. His fingers start to stroke me again, I hear myself panting
as he rubs back and forth, in and out, pleasuring me. I groan loudly, moving my
hips to his rhythm. He strokes me until my hips are jerking uncontrollably,
then he pulls his fingers away and replaces them with his thick, hard length.

I press backward, and he pushes into me, making me whimper
uncontrollably as he fills me. I can’t stop myself from crying out again and
again as he thrusts, still gripping my hips. I match his strokes, pushing him
deeper into my core. I feel out of balance, like any moment I’ll fall, but I
don’t care, the only thing that matters is each sure thrust, each sweet burst
of pleasure. My whole body is heating up, and getting slick with sweat, but I
don’t care, I only want more. He groans and grips my waist tighter, thrusting
harder and faster. I can’t feel my fingers or my toes, I can’t feel anything,
only him and the devastating pleasure he is giving me. I cry hoarsely as my
brain reduces to nothing but sweetness. My body stiffens and I lose myself,
falling against him with a moan, as he groans and comes in a hot rush inside
me.

I can’t catch my breath. I can feel his heart beating against
my back, and his breath coming in deep gasps. He slips out of me and my body
shivers with residual pleasure. My legs give way, and we both collapse on the
soft rug.

When I catch my breath, I turn to look at him, unable to
suppress a giggle at how ridiculous we both look, half-undressed, and lying on
the floor.

David follows my gaze, and chuckles. He kicks off his pants,
then gets up and, lifting me as easily as if I weigh nothing, he carries me
over to the bed, collapsing on top of me on the soft mattress.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Preston.”

“Thank you, Mr. Preston.”

I am still giggling. He gets up and starts to take off the rest
of his clothing. As I watch him undress, my body starts to throb again. He is
so magnificent.

I sit up and pull off my half-discarded blouse. My bra and skirt
follow. He starts to watch me, and I revel in the pleasure of seeing him grow
hard again. By the time I am completely undressed, I know we’re not leaving the
bed anytime soon.

“What are you trying to do to me?” He growls as he kneels on
the bed, right between my spread legs.

I can’t hide my pleasure. “Have I done something wrong? I
ask, mock contrite.

He chuckles, “No sweetheart,” he says, as he enters me
slowly. “You’re doing everything right.” 

H
OURS LATER, I FINALLY DRIFT OFF,
EXHAUSTED. I can’t remember how many times David has brought me to a brain-shattering
climax. I feel boneless and liquid, aching sweetly. He’s made love to me
slowly, then fast, then slowly again, each time until I cry out his name in
senseless surrender.

When I wake up, the room is dimmer, telling me I’ve slept until
evening. I’m alone on the bed. I stretch luxuriously. My body feels delicious.

I’m completely naked underneath the covers, so I take them
with me as I get off the bed. My clothes are no longer on the floor where I
dropped them earlier. Baffled, I wonder if Mrs. Daniels has been in to tidy up
while I was asleep. 

Apart from the door we came in, another door leads off the bedroom.
I open it and step into a huge, brightly lit closet. On one side, rows upon
rows of suits hang side by side, with shirts, pants, shoes and a vast array of
all sorts of men’s clothing. On the opposite side from the suits, the racks are
almost bare, sparsely populated with my few clothes, which Mrs. Daniels has
unpacked. My underwear is neatly arranged in a drawer, my shoes tidily placed.

On the far wall, there’s a full-length mirror. I walk
forward, staring at my mussed hair and wide eyes. My skin is still flushed from
all the lovemaking, with a smooth healthy glow. Making love suits me, I decide,
giggling, I look far better than I remember.

A frosted glass door leads off the dressing room into a
luxurious bathroom. I step inside, admiring the gleaming cream tile walls and
the clear marble floors. A deep sunken bath sits in the middle of the room, with
solid looking gold taps. A marble-topped sink stands below a wide, mirrored
wall cabinet, frosted glass hides a shower stall, and a door leads off to what
must be the toilet.

At the sink, I splash some water on my face. Opening the
cabinet above, I notice that my toiletries have been arranged inside. I’m impressed.
I make my way back to the dressing room to look for something to wear. My jeans
and blouses feel like too much of a bother, and the few dresses I bought while
shopping for my wedding seem too dressy. An impulse makes me put on one of David’s
shirts. It’s soft, and feels heavenly on my skin. It’s probably insanely
expensive, I think, walking out of the room to look for him.

At first, the apartment seems remarkably silent, then I hear
David’s voice coming from the direction of his study, I follow the sound, then
pause at the door to eat him up with my eyes.

He is standing with his back to me, looking towards the view
of the city from the windows. He’s wearing only sweatpants, and his back is
bare, showing me his defined muscles up to where they curve into his firm ass. As
I watch him, I can’t help thinking of a colossus, bestriding the world. He
looks magnificent, powerful, and potent.

And he’s mine.

I have to try very hard to resist the urge to go to him and
run my hands all over his glorious body.

He says something again and I realize that he is talking
into a small earpiece attached to his ear.

“How many percent total?” I hear him say, his voice is terse
and commanding. He pauses and listens for a while, “Everything hinges on
Carole,” He says finally, “Leave her to me, I know exactly how to deal with her.”

Even though it’s not me he’s talking to, I’m hit by the
steely hardness in his voice. There is something ruthless in the sound. Vaguely,
I wonder who Carole is. The sound of another woman’s name on his lips is enough
to make my heart constrict with jealousy.

I stay where I am at the door, not sure whether to go in to
him. I don’t want to interrupt if he’s busy. However, as if he can feel me
standing there, he turns around. I step back at the coldness I see in his eyes,
the blue is faded almost to grey, and his face seems almost cruel.

“Sophie.” He smiles, his expression softening as he removes
the earpiece and comes around the desk to meet me. I shiver slightly, the fear
I felt only moments before, melting as he runs his hand over my arm, draped in
the soft material of his shirt. “This looks very good on you.” He says, his
eyes travelling down to my bare legs, then back to my face.

“Thank you.” I say shyly. Outside the windows, it’s already
dark. I must have slept for hours. “I didn’t mean to sleep for so long.”

David shrugs. “You were tired.” He raises his hand and runs
a finger along my lower lip, making me shiver again. “I’m sure I had something
to do with that.” He says tenderly.

I blush, and he chuckles, pulling me to him, and running his
hands over my body, which is naked under the shirt. “You should wear this all
the time with nothing underneath.” He suggests, the teasing light in his eyes
making him look his age, with none of the steeliness I saw in his face earlier.

I laugh. “I would never be able to go out.” I point out.

“Hmm...mm,” His eyes are on my lips, “you’d always be here,
half naked and ready for me.” He growls softly and gives me a quick kiss on my
lips. “I’d like to show you what that thought does to me,” He says, “But I’m
sure you are hungry.”

My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me that I haven’t eaten
all day. “I am.”