“Another massage?” he drawled, but his eyes darkened when I sank onto my knees before him.
“Sort of.” I reached for his belt. His hand gripped my wrist before I made contact, and the air shifted into something heavier, more condensed.
“What,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough pitch that made my thighs clench. “Are you doing?”
“I told you.” I pulled my wrist free from his grasp and unbuckled his belt, my heart fluttering like a nervous hummingbird’s. “I’m helping you relax.”
Christian and I took turns initiating sex, but I’d never been so bold about it.
Usually, all it took was a certain look or smile from me and he got the hint. But this…this was way outside my comfort zone.
He didn’t stop me again, but the heat of his gaze settled low in my stomach.
My mouth dried when I finally worked him free of his pants.
He was already hard, his arousal thick and dripping with pre-cum. He let me set the pace as I slowly took him down my throat, but he was so big I had to pause every few seconds to adjust.
Eventually, however, I took him to the hilt and stayed there for a minute with my lips stretched wide against the base of his shaft.
I hummed with pride before I started moving. Slowly at first, then faster as I got more comfortable with his size and the angle.
Christian let out a low curse and tangled his hands in my hair when I settled into a rhythm, licking and sucking until his muscles tightened beneath my touch. I flattened my tongue and ran it along the underside of his cock as I withdrew, then gently sucked the head and slid him all the way down my throat again.
His grip tightened on my hair.
“Fuck, Stella.” Christian’s tortured groan sent another arrow of lust to my core. “That feels so fucking good, sweetheart.”
I moaned with satisfaction and redoubled my efforts. Drool leaked from the corners of my stuffed mouth and dripped down my chin, but I didn’t stop.
The blowjob was for him, but every groan and slide of his heat against my tongue pulsed between my legs like it was for me.
I loved knowing that I could turn him on like this. That I could give and take pleasure at will.
I was on my knees, but I had the power to bring him to his.
“I knew you could take it. Every inch, just like that.” His praise washed over me as I gagged around the base of his cock. “Good girl.”
The ache deepened, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I shifted positions so I could grind against his leg while I increased my pace and savored the hot, erotic taste of him.
It was easier for me to come when I was grinding on something versus using my fingers, and the firm pressure against my clit mixed with the filthy, sloppy sounds of the blowjob drove me higher toward release with each passing second.
I was drenched and probably making a mess of his pants, but I was too lost in a fog of lust to care.
“I can feel how wet your cunt is.” Christian pulled my head back so I stared straight up at him, my eyes watering from taking him so deep for so long. “Does this turn you on, hmm? Grinding against my leg while you choke on my cock?”
“Mmmph.” My muffled moan of affirmation cut off in a gasp when he abruptly pulled me off him, picked me up, and pushed me against the window in one fluid motion.
Desire pooled between my legs at the press of glass against my cheek and the heat of him at my back.
I loved when he was like this.
Rough. Demanding. A beast uncaged.
Christian yanked my dress straps off my shoulders and pulled the bodice down to bare my breasts.
“When you come…” He rucked the skirt up with his other hand and hooked his finger in the waistband of my underwear. “It’ll be with my cock inside your pussy, not your throat.”
I heard the tear of lace and the unmistakable rip of foil.
Then he was inside me, fucking me so deep and hard the living room echoed with the sounds of my cries.
My hands splayed against the window, which fogged with my gasping breaths.
It was made of tinted glass so people couldn’t see inside, but there was still something so deliciously dirty about being taken against it while people went about their lives outside, oblivious to what was happening above their heads.
Christian pounded me savagely, with sharp, brutal thrusts that scrambled my thoughts into nothing.
There was no trace of the refined CEO. No suits, no polite charm, only his cock filling me up and his hand around my throat while he fucked me like an animal from behind.
His length stretched my inner muscles in a tight burn as I stood on tiptoes trying to take him deeper. Every scape of my rock-hard nipples against the cold glass sent another spark to the inferno building at the base of my spine.
Harsh breaths and needy whimpers mingled with the slap of flesh against flesh and the wet, slick sounds of his cock drilling into me.
The filthy symphony swirled around us, dragging me higher and higher until I crescendoed toward orgasm.
“Christian, please.” His grip on my throat stole my screams and turned them into hoarse pleas. “I need…I’m going to…”
I lost the rest of my sentence to another wave of pleasure when he reached around to stroke my clit.
Once. Twice. Just enough to deepen the ache, but not enough to break the leash on my swelling release.
“I love when you beg so sweetly for me.” He buried his face in my neck and nipped at the skin. “Do you need to come, hmm?”
“Yes.” My answer spilled out in a sob.
“Then be a good girl and push that pretty little cunt back on me.”
I obeyed without thinking. I arched my back so I could fuck back at him while he gripped my hips with both hands and slammed me onto him. Broken squeals and whimpers fell out as my body shook like a rag doll’s from the combined force of our efforts.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “You look so beautiful like this, spread wide with my cock buried inside that tight pussy.”
Electricity replaced the blood in my veins. I was lit up from the inside out, a live wire of sensation that he stoked hotter with every thrust.
Christian’s hold on my throat tightened while he reached around and pinched my nipple with his other hand.
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
That was all it took.
My orgasm finally broke free. It crashed through its restraints and consumed me whole, sending a wave of heat from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
My body bowed from the intensity of the pleasure, and I would’ve collapsed onto the ground had Christian not been holding me up.
I was still floating on my high when he turned me around and lifted me up so my back was against the glass and my legs hooked around his waist.
He hadn’t come yet, but his strokes slowed into a gentler rhythm.
“I love feeling you come around me.” He kissed his way up my neck to my mouth. “You are fucking perfect.”
The words hit me somewhere deep and vulnerable.
Emotion lodged in my throat, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and rode him faster, more comfortable with taking the lead than examining the feelings his statement brought to the surface.
Christian’s breaths harshened. His muscles went taut, and I could feel him throbbing inside me before he finally came with a loud groan.
We held each other in the come down, our skin slick with sweat and our foreheads pressed against each while we caught our breath.
“So,” I panted. “Do you feel more relaxed?”
His laugh rumbled against my skin and made me smile. I loved pulling a real laugh out of him. They were more common these days, but they were still sources of pride.
“Yes, Butterfly. I do.”
“Good.” I clung to him as he carried us to the shower.
If I were with anyone else, I never would’ve found the courage to do what I’d just done. The fear of rejection would’ve been too strong, even with someone I was dating.
But that was one of my favorite things about Christian. I could be who I was and who I aspired to be in equal measure.
I never had to worry when I was with him.
CHRISTIAN
My nightswith Stella were the only peace I had.
My days were a tumult of work and chaos. I’d spent the past month weeding out suspects for the traitor, figuring out how the hell someone created a device similar to Scylla, what that someone’s connection to Stella’s stalker was, and tracking down the stalker bastard himself.
I already had a shortlist of suspects for the leak. Every name made my blood run cold, but I had to be careful how I handled the situation. I couldn’t make a public move until I was certain who the traitor was. Loyalty ran both ways, and false accusations were the fastest way to seed resentment among the ranks.
I had the perfect trap in mind, but I needed to wait until Harper Security’s annual poker tournament to set it. Until then, I couldn’t trust anyone in the company with sensitive information.
As for Scylla, I could almost guarantee Sentinel was the one behind the knockoff device. They’d imitated everything else I’d done; copying proprietary hardware was the logical next step. I also wouldn’t put it past them to bribe or blackmail whoever the traitor was.
I sat on that suspicion. First, I’ll deal with the traitor. Then, I’ll go after Sentinel.
The only remaining question mark was their ties to Stella’s stalker and who the fucker was.
I’d combed through Stella’s contacts, but she’d interacted with so many people over the years it was impossible to narrow them down to a decent suspect pool. The stalker could be anyone from an old colleague to the barista who made her drink every day.
Part of me admitted I could’ve gotten further in all my investigations had I not been distracted. I wanted to spend time with Stella, which meant no long hours or overtime at the office.
I took her on dates every weekend, ate dinner with her every evening, and fucked her into oblivion every night, all the while knowing I should spend that time doing something else.
Stella’s ability to fuck with my rational decision-making crystallized a little over a week after Frank Rivers’ timely demise.
I clicked and unclicked my pen as I stared at the note on my desk.
The stalker had gone underground since Hawaii. No new notes and no contact…until now.
Click. Click.
Two sentences, typed and delivered in a plain, unmarked envelope. It’d been tucked in with the rest of our mail even though it didn’t contain an address.
You can’t protect her, and you will NEVER have her. She’s mine.
Whispers of rage brushed my senses.
The message itself wasn’t concerning. It sounded like something a petulant child would write.
What was concerning were the three photographs that’d accompanied it: one of Stella getting breakfast at the cafe near the Mirage, one of her taking photos at the National Mall, and one of her exiting the grocery store.
All of them had been taken in the weeks since we returned from Hawaii.
The rage thickened and coated my skin with frost. I was tempted to give in and take it out on one of the many names I kept in my database for that very purpose, but I suppressed the urge in favor of calculating my next move.
I couldn’t trust anyone except myself with Stella’s safety, not even Brock. He wasn’t one of my suspects, but he hadn’t noticed the stalker getting close enough to take those photos of her, which was a big fucking oversight.
Granted, his job was protection, not surveillance, but it still pissed me off.
The stalker had resurfaced after weeks of radio silence, and I bet a forensic analysis of his note would return the same results as it always did.
Nothing.