Be a Doll(55)

I didn’t move from my seat, sure that if I attempted to stand up I’d make a fool of myself with the pinpricks in my legs telling me how wobbly I was. But I didn’t need to anyway because in no time he was towering over me, his eyes on mine as I had my head tilted back so as not to break eye contact. It wasn’t even a conscious decision not to. I was trapped, enthralled and at his mercy.

He wanted to break my resolve, to shatter my vows and ruin the person I had been groomed to become and he succeeded in a matter of a few short days.

“Does that mean you want me, little wife?’’

His eyes then left mine and deliberately fell down to my cleavage. The path his dark orbs took warmed me, drawing out goosebumps, and I shivered when I realized the kind of perfect view he must have from above, down the v of my cashmere sweater.

“I want an orgasm,’’ I replied in a bout of defiance as my eyes landed on his slightly parted lips. “That’s all.’’

He crouched in front of me, bringing his head to the same level as mine. The closeness that had me gasping silently. His nose grazed mine and his mouth was just a breath away from mine, tantalizing, teasing. He was always teasing. Playing with me. Toying with me.

A hint of his aftershave reached my nostrils and I took a deep breath, taking in my husband’s scent, something that only made my body quiver for more of him. In that moment, tittering on the edge, right before he touched me, I wanted to lose myself in him. It was a conscious decision driven by desire.

“You’ll have more than one.’’ He touched my cheekbone with the tip of his fingers and watched with rapt attention as I trembled. “Your body is so responsive.’’

I swallowed thickly and stared at the little specks of gold in his dark eyes. “You said it yourself. It’s been years.’’

His fingers trailed to my mouth and with the pad of his thumb he traced each lip. My breathing stuttered.

“Good,’’ he said darkly, eyes on mine again. His hand went behind my head and delved in my thick hair, taking a good hold of me as if to make sure I wouldn’t escape or pull away. As if I even could at this point. That possessive hold on me, so dominant, had me clenching my thighs together and my hands immediately found their way to his wide shoulders just barely contained by his button-down shirt. The fabric under my fingers was thin and smooth, but it imposed a barrier between my skin and his. It let some of his heat to seep through. It made me crave his flesh more.

“Then what are you waiting for?’’

“I want to hear you beg.’’

I pulled back just an inch, but immediately his hand behind my head stopped me from moving further. His fingers tightened and twisted a few strands and strangely, it sent a shock to my belly, making me tense and I dug my fingers in his shoulders.

His smirk came back then, as wicked as ever, but it was the slight flush creeping in his cheeks covered by a dark stubble from the day that showed me how on edge he was too. He wanted me. He wanted me more than the woman who propositioned him earlier and for now that’s all I wanted. That’s all I could wish because come morning there would be a good chance that would be all over, whatever that crazy lust was. I needed to keep that in mind even if I let myself go with him, even if I gave all of my body without holding back.

My body wasn’t my heart. Anyway, my heart wasn’t available and it hadn’t been in years.

“You’re not going anywhere, Lila.’’

“I don’t plan on it. And I won’t beg you when you want it as much as I do.’’

He briefly closed his eyes and breathed in. In those few short seconds I saw the same man I had seen Sunday night after the disastrous dinner at his parents. He wasn’t the same hardened Mathis Grimes who had built an empire starting with only a startup company to grow to this incredible business entity. No, instead he was just Mathis, a man who went through hell and made something out of his life as if to lose himself in something that wasn’t the tragedy him and his family went through, as if he wasn’t as distant or cold as he appeared to be on a daily basis. That version of my husband was the one I feared because it was the one who had been able to make me see beyond the despicable man I had met at Carter Manor, the despicable man who had been toying with me since my arrival in Manhattan.

But that man was quickly gone and I didn’t know who was left behind because this man wasn’t cold or distant. He was intense and sexual. He was impossible to resist.

He brought his other hand to my face and cupped my cheek. His big hands held me and I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt as fragile or as in tune with my body before. In fact, none of my previous experiences could be compared to what was happening with Mathis. My husband was the kind of man in a category of his own and couldn’t fit with anybody else.

“You want me to beg you to open your perfect legs, Lila?’’ He tugged on my hair and made me hiss, but not in pain. Pleasure was all I felt and he knew it. His nostrils flared. “Do you want me to beg you to let me taste your pussy too?’’

“You wouldn’t anyway,’’ I whispered huskily and let my hands drift down from his shoulders to his pecs, hard under my palms. With the tip of my fingers I toyed with the buttons at his collar and the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lila.’’ His voice crashed over me, stoking the growing lust inside me until I was sure I’d be a mess of shivers, loud gasps and desperate hold on him with my hands shaking from the sexual tension that had been mounting for years and culminating these past few days. “I’d beg to get between your legs if it meant I could take you and make you come around my cock. I wouldn’t feel any shame or feel any less than the man I am.’’ He closed the space between us and let his lips barely touch mine in a teasing touch that made me stop breathing for a beat or two. “I do anything to get what I want, Lila. Right now, I want you. I want to fuck my wife and make you mine in all ways.’’