CHAPTER 19
Kenzie
I was a little disappointed by the chaste ride to the penthouse. I’d expected a little hand holding, at the very least. Maybe a little groping out of sight of the driver.
Instead, Aaron asked me about my day, how I liked Ricardo de Lugo so far, what I thought about my position, and whether I had any ideas on how to move forward.
“It’s all so new,” I admitted. “I hope you don’t think I’m not worth hiring if I say I don’t have the first idea where to start.”
“Not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t expect you to know everything. In fact, that you’re willing to admit you don’t know tells me a lot about you. Good things, of course. You’re not kidding me, or yourself.” I shrugged, glad I’d answered in a way which pleased him.
He showed me just how much I’d pleased him the moment we reached his private elevator. No sooner were we inside than he pinned me to the closed door, his face only inches from mine. I felt his hot breath against my face, and my heart took off at a gallop.
This was it.
My entire body tensed in anticipation.
“You were a very bad girl today,” he growled. I shivered a little at his tone; the power behind the hands that pinned me by the shoulders, the flood of wetness between my legs that his words inspired.
“I was?”
“Mm-hmm. You tried to deny me. You thought you could have your own way even though I’m the one in charge. You made me wait for you.”
“I didn’t do that on purpose,” I whimpered.
“I don’t care. You made me wait. I don’t like to wait, Kenzie. If we’re going to work together, I need you to understand that. Do you understand that?”
His mouth hovered just over my ear, and I trembled in utter pleasure from the feeling of him so close to me. His smell, the sound of his voice, the heat coming from his body. So much promise.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Hmm . . . I don’t think you do. I think I need to teach you. The only way to teach is through action.” I whimpered, and he chuckled. “I don’t want to punish you, but you force my hand. It’s the only way to get you to understand, to make you remember. Believe me. I know what’s best.”
I whimpered again. Every instinct told me I should leave. He was venturing into some fairly kinky territory, and we hadn’t discussed anything like that.
My body told another story, though.
My body wanted me to stay, to let him punish me, to soak in every last bit of pleasure his words promised. I knew if I followed his lead, I wouldn’t be disappointed.
I wanted him to take me to the edge and beyond.
“I need to be punished,” I whispered.
He groaned, pressing his body to mine. His taut, erect dick brushed against me. I sighed, unable to hold back the lust he inspired. His mouth touched my throat, my jaw, my chin. Tasting me almost gently, like he wanted to try before he committed. His lips hovered over mine, so close. My whole body cried out for him, and I leaned in before I could stop myself.
He chuckled, pulling back. “No, no. Lesson one: You don’t get to do what you want. I decide when you get what you want. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered, disappointed. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to let him sweep me away, to take the terrible ache from between my legs where the longing was greatest. I leaned against the door, willing to let him call the shots.
“Good girl,” he growled.
Then he kissed me. Our mouths seemed to struggle for control, nearly biting at each other as we both fought to take what we wanted. I’d never felt so aggressive before, so desperate to have what I needed. It was all so new to me.
He bit my lip, making me hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure. “See what happens to bad girls?” he whispered. “Even trying to control our kiss. You’re not in control. I am.”
With that, the elevator doors opened and he bent, throwing me over one shoulder. I squealed before I could help myself, heart beating like a speeding train as Aaron carried me to the front door of his penthouse. I felt nearly weightless in his arms.
He put me down when we reached the bedroom. “Take that off,” he said, gesturing to my clothes. I stripped without question as he did the same. I stopped at my bra and panties, laying the rest of the clothes across a chair. “No,” he said. “Those, too. Everything. I want to see your body.”
I gulped but followed his instructions. Not that he’d never seen me naked before, but there was a difference between getting naked in bed and actually standing there, naked and vulnerable. I did everything I could to keep myself from covering my body with my hands.
“On the bed.” He pointed. “Head on the pillows.” I climbed into the comfortable bed, sighing as I stretched out. He watched me, still clad in boxer briefs. I saw the outline of his straining manhood. As much fun as it was to play, as hot as he’d gotten me, I wanted nothing more than for him to take me. I wanted him to rock me until I screamed.
He picked up the tie he’d discarded by the foot of the bed. Kneeling beside my head, he took one wrist, then the other, tying them to the headboard.
I could hardly breathe. I thought I might hyperventilate. What would he do to me? How could I stop him if I didn’t want him to continue?
I asked him in a shaky voice. “Just say ‘banana’, but it won’t be anything like that, trust me. You trust me, right?”
I hesitated for just a split second before nodding, wide-eyed.
“You had to think it over first. Didn’t you? I don’t like that.” He positioned himself in front of me so his bulge hung near my face. Then he pulled his shorts down just enough to free himself. “Suck on this,” he muttered, pressing the head to my mouth.
I took him in gladly—I already loved giving blowjobs, but doing it while tied up sparked something new inside me. There was a depth of pleasure I didn’t know could exist, and the way he treated me reached that part of me.
He didn’t abuse me, wasn’t rough. Simply thrusted in and out of my mouth while I sucked his thick length. And it was so fucking hot.
While I sucked, he touched my body, playing with my breasts. He stroked my nipples, flicking his fingers over them. I moaned, my mouth still full of him. He grunted, thrusting faster, harder, fucking my mouth.
I felt so dirty, so slutty.
And I absolutely loved it.
My entire body cried out for more.
Then, before I knew it, it was over.
He pulled out, groaning. “Not too much more of that,” he said, positioning himself between my legs. I thought he would take me then, and readied myself for it.
I was wrong.
“Are you going to obey me from now on?” Aaron asked, staring down at me, his erect dick in his hands. He stroked himself slowly, and my eyes couldn’t help but linger on the sight. I licked my lips in anticipation.
“Kenzie. When I ask you a question, I want an answer. Will you obey me from now on?” The tension in his voice told me it was no time to be coy.
“Yes, I will.”
He turned me to the side, exposing my ass to him. A sharp, quick slap to my cheeks left me gasping in surprise.
“Tell me again. Will you obey me?”
“Yes!” I gasped again, louder this time, as his hand made contact with my flesh.
“One more time. When I tell you to do something, will you make me wait? Will you make me beg? Will you make me convince you? Or will you simply do it?”
“I’ll do it! I promise!” Another sharp, stinging blow.
That time, the pain faded quickly, leaving a warm, glowing pleasure in its wake. It felt like my body was waking up, somehow, like I was totally on alert. Everything seemed more intense, more pleasurable, more painful; simply . . . more.
He pushed me flat on the bed, and I winced as my smarting butt made contact with the mattress. He didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in the way his fingers danced across my pelvis until they stroked my aching, glistening lips. I felt him gliding through the wetness there and strained upward, hoping for more.
“No, no,” he whispered. “You’re in my hands, remember? I make the rules. You don’t get to come yet.”
He teased me for what felt like an eternity; stroking me, driving me wild, making me scream with frustration as every last muscle strained, dying for release. The pressure between my legs built to where I was beyond discomfort, beyond pain, beyond pleasure.
All that was left was need.
I needed something, anything, to end the delicious agony.
He gave it to me in the form of his hot length sliding into me. I screamed, writhing as he invaded me, coming around him almost instantly in a sharp, searing burst of pleasure.
He rode me out, thrusting, building me up again before I knew what was happening. I stopped thinking, my body taking over for my brain.
All I could do was feel.
Aaron took my legs, placing them against his chest, then pummeled me with long, hard strokes. I cried out, louder, louder with each one until my voice broke.
And still I gasped, grunted, fought to free my hands so I could touch him. He saw me fighting and held them in place, holding me even tighter to the bed as he fucked me mercilessly.
Another wave of pleasure built, growing higher, higher, so high I thought I might die . . . before crashing down around me as I came so hard, I was afraid I would pass out.
And still he took me, still he rode, but his thrusts picked up frantic speed and his cries got louder until I felt his manhood swell just before he came, too.
I didn’t know when he untied me. I was too far away, too blissed out. I felt him collapse beside me though my eyes were closed and my ears rang. My insides quivered in the aftermath, and already I wondered when we would do it again.
I could get used to that.
He had me addicted.
And I had a feeling we were just getting started.
He let me rest in his arms for a long time, stroking my back. I wanted to fall asleep, to stay there with him all night.
Sadly, real-world concerns got in the way and my eyes flew open.
“I hate to say this—” I sat up, frowning at him. “I should go home.”
“What?” He looked surprised. I couldn’t help feeling a little smug that he cared enough to be surprised.
“Hey—this is great, and you know I love staying over,” I said, stroking his chest with the tips of my fingers. “But you’re my boss now. I can’t do the walk of shame tomorrow when the starting point is my boss’s apartment building.”
He burst out laughing, albeit softly. “Got it. If it pleases you.” He sat up, watching me get my clothes together. I happened to glance over as I dressed, and the sight of his naked torso didn’t help my resolve. I turned away, reminding myself to stay strong. I had to keep some shred of integrity if I was ever to make a success of my new job—and whatever strange, wondrous relationship was developing between us.
I gave him a quick kiss goodbye, telling him I’d show myself out. “See you tomorrow,” he said, smiling. He stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
I pointedly ignored the flutter in my stomach as I left the bedroom, then the apartment. Only once I was in a cab on the way to my apartment did I let myself giggle.
Life had changed in an instant, less than an entire day. The thought of going to work the next day excited me. The thought of seeing Aaron again excited me. Even the people walking along the sidewalks and those in the cars all around me seemed more interesting.
Life was full of possibility for the first time in forever.
I nearly ran up the stairs to the apartment, eager to tell the girls about my day. It was only eight o’clock—early enough for a late dinner, even.
Once again, the looks on their faces when I walked through the front door stopped me short. For the second time in as many days.
“What is it this time?” I asked, cutting to the chase. “Another delivery? Candy, this time? Balloons? A singing telegram? God, do they even exist anymore?” I giggled, riding high. Nothing could bring me down.
The girls glanced at each other. “Take a look in your bedroom,” Chloe said, pointing to the door. A pit of dread formed in my stomach.
My jaw hit the floor when I saw what waited for me. The girls stood behind me, like they’d been dying to see what my reaction would be. I whirled around, facing them.
“Who did this?” I asked, glaring.
“Well, at first we thought you did,” Chandra explained. “You have clothes delivered all the time.”
“Not these clothes!” I turned around again, staring through the open closet door to an entire rod full of clothes that hadn’t been in my closet when I’d left this morning. “And they’re usually in boxes, you know?”
“Yeah, we thought it was weird, too,” Chloe said. “But the delivery guys told us you were okay with it.”
“Okay with it? Does that even sound like something I would be okay with? Why didn’t you call me? Oh, my God, strangers were in my room?” I flopped down on the bed, thoughts racing too fast through my head for me to focus on one at a time.
“I was in here the whole time,” Chandra assured me. “They just left not long ago, actually. So I was already home.”
“Well, thank God for that,” I said, staring helplessly into the closet. “Where the hell are my old clothes?”
“Um . . .” My roommates looked at each other again. “They’re gone.”
“Oh, you are fucking kidding me. They took my clothes?” I jumped up, pushing my way through what hung on the rod. Sure enough, I didn’t recognize any of it. I looked down, surprised to find a dozen shoeboxes. “Great. Matching shoes.”
“We’re sorry. We wanted to call, but we were too confused. I mean, if this is what Aaron’s doing for you—”
“Aaron. How do you know it was him?”
“Who else would it be?” Chloe asked. “Look at the labels.”
Yes. Nearly half of everything there had the unmistakable Ricardo de Lugo label. I couldn’t have afforded more than a single piece—and that was a stretch.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I lost it like that. It’s a lot to take in at once.”
“Of course. It’s okay.”
“I need a little time to think this over.” The girls nodded, leaving me on my own. I turned back to the clothes. Boy, they were gorgeous. Dresses, blouses, skirts, slacks, suits. All in my size.
I bent, opening a few boxes, actually biting my lip when I got a look at how gorgeous the shoes were. I’d always been a fan of shoes. My hands itched to touch them, put them on my feet, strut around the apartment and maybe up and down my street. I could conquer the world in shoes like those.
I’d told him, hadn’t I? I hated the way he thought he could tell me what to do. It was bad enough to resign from my job, but then he replaced my wardrobe.
Emery was right. He was a controlling man. He had very definite ideas of how the woman he was with should behave.
I didn’t know how to feel about that. I knew I should hate it—and it did piss me off and frustrate me to no end.
But at the same time, I didn’t hate it.
In fact, though I wouldn’t have admitted it to my friends for a million dollars, there was a part of me that liked it.
I liked him. I wanted to be the person he wanted me to be, because I liked him.
If the woman he wanted wore gorgeous clothes and shoes, I could get used to that. Anything to keep him interested in calming that ache, throbbing between my legs.