CHAPTER 3
Kenzie
I got the impression my new friend was used to having things his way. He had a no-nonsense attitude about him, a sort of quiet assurance that he would get his way in the end.
I couldn’t put my finger on how I read him so easily, but whatever it was, I responded eagerly to it.
I liked the way he guided me to his car, telling the driver to take us to his place—he didn’t ask my opinion, taking it for granted that I’d want to go home with him. If he were any other man, I might have slapped him across the face for assuming anything like that. But he was different.
What if I wanted to go out for a cup of coffee, or back to my place? He got away with it. I wasn’t sure how.
Instead of slapping him, I settled back into the seat with his arm around my shoulders. “This is a beautiful car,” I whispered, running my hands over the supple leather seat. “Very comfortable. I’m used to taking cabs around the city. They’re not quite so nice.”
He chuckled. “An understatement.”
I wondered who he was, exactly, and what he did for a living that he had a car and driver. When he’d mentioned it in the club in the context of making sure Emery got home all right, I had convinced myself I’d misheard him.
When he led me to the car, though, and the chauffeur opened the door, I could hardly believe my eyes.
Had I stumbled on a jackpot?
No, of course I hadn’t, no matter what he did for a living. This was a one-night deal, that was it. I was sure of it. If he was filthy rich, it would make for an interesting story in the future. A story I’d be happy to tell. At least to my closest girlfriends.
The night I got to see how the other half lives.
I wasn’t the type of girl who typically rode around in chauffeured cars. I’d only recently stopped taking the bus and subway and started taking cabs to and from work after deciding I had enough money saved up in the bank to get me through any number of rainy days. That had seemed like a splurge.
But this?
This was something else.
And Aaron was dressed so nicely, too. Impeccably, in fact. I’d noticed it earlier, but outside the dim lighting of the club it was even more evident that he had money and knew how to use it. The material of his suit was soft to the touch as I ran a hand over his sleeve.
No wonder he had a take-charge attitude. He probably wasn’t used to being told what to do. Money allowed people to have things their way.
He looked down at me, his eyes smoldering. My heart skipped a beat, because in his eyes I saw everything he wanted to do to me. My body responded eagerly, hungrily, and he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on me except to put an arm around my shoulders.
Every so often I’d see his free hand clench into a fist when it looked as though he might touch my bare leg. I very much had the impression he was only holding back for the sake of his driver, as it would be pretty tacky to make out—or more—in the back seat while the chauffeur sat in front of us.
Aaron wasn’t sleazy. I liked that about him.
I found myself wanting to ask who he was and where he came from, but thought better of it. There was no need to know, and besides, I didn’t want to break the spell. There was almost something even more naughty about not knowing who I was about to go to bed with.
A beautiful stranger, taking me to his . . . where would he live? A mansion? A penthouse? Or was he only in town for a short while and lived in a swanky hotel?
The anticipation was almost too much to bear.
We pulled up in front of an apartment building just across from Central Park. A very expensive area of an already expensive city. I couldn’t wait to tell the girls all about it.
He helped me from the car and we walked arm-in-arm into the lobby.
“Good evening, Mr. Bello,” the security guard called out with a wave. Aaron waved back before steering me away from the banks of elevators.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To my elevator.”
“Your elevator?”
“My private elevator. It only stops on one floor. Mine.”
My knees went weak, to the point where I had to hold onto him for support as we walked across the marble floor. He had referred to it as his floor. I wondered if I was dreaming, and I hoped I wouldn’t wake up.
The dream—if it was a dream—only got better after we entered the elevator and the doors closed in front of us. We turned to each other without a word, our bodies slamming together as our mouths did the same. I was so hungry, so desperate for him ever since we’d locked eyes in the club.
His hands held the sides of my face, then slid down until they ran over the sides of my breasts, then lower to my hips. He drove me back against the wall so suddenly I gasped, then groaned as my body responded eagerly to his power.
I lifted one leg to wrap around his thigh. He groaned, driving his already-hard bulge against me, pulling my leg higher. His fingers dug into my thigh, then ran up until he stroked the curve of my ass.
I shivered, warm wetness spreading between my legs.
Our tongues danced, my mouth almost hurting from the pressure. We both grunted, fighting for control, panting from the effort.
The doors opened and Aaron lifted me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist, still kissing him as he walked me to the door. He was so strong, powerful, carrying me like I didn’t weigh a thing. It was a huge turn-on, knowing he could do anything he wanted to me.
I would be powerless against him.
He put me on my feet when we stepped inside the suite and I felt a little disappointed, like the fun was over. Then he surprised me by bending, placing one arm behind my knees and lifting me up. I squealed, kicking my heels off as he carried me to the bedroom. I caught only glimpses of a very large, very beautifully decorated apartment before we reached his room.
He threw me on the bed, ending all giggles then and there. He meant business, and when he lowered himself over my prostrate form, I shuddered in anticipation of what was to come.
I would never have pegged myself as the type to enjoy being told what to do in bed, so it was a surprise when the ache between my legs became more intense when Aaron yanked down the top of my dress, revealing my breasts. He wasn’t one to take time for romance, I could tell.
That didn’t matter when his mouth found me, taking me away to hazy bliss as he licked and sucked on my sensitive nipples. I tangled my hands in his thick, dark hair, grinding my hips upward to meet his thick hardness. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer and closer, wanting more of him.
All of him.
I groaned, my head rolling from side to side, crying out in endless pleasure as his skilled mouth drove me higher than I ever thought possible. The ache in my core was almost painful. I needed his touch, his cock, to ease it.
One of his hands found my aching heat and I sighed with relief as he slid his fingers beneath the crotch of my panties to delve into me. “Yes!” I cried out, nearly leaving the bed in ecstatic excitement as he expertly pumped his thick fingers in and out of my heat while his thumb traced circles around my burning, pulsing clit.
I rode his hand, holding his head tight against my breasts while he flicked his tongue against one, then the other. It was all too much. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, every impulse in my body was turned toward the accomplishment of one single, burning goal.
“Yes! Aaron!” I screamed it—a long, guttural cry. Like something an animal might make. I settled back against the mattress, my body trembling, gasping for air.
The pressure against my thigh told me how much he needed me, and I gladly met his need with more of my own. It was endless, the depth of desire he unlocked in me.
My hands traveled over his smooth, deeply tanned skin as he revealed more of himself to me with every piece of clothing he shed. His body was a masterpiece, all toned and muscled and strong, all of it mine for the night. I reveled it in, touching everything I could reach. My hand closed over his straining length, so hot and hard, and he groaned in desperation as his hands ran up my thighs to my hips.
“Roll over,” he grunted, and before I could comply, he flipped me over.
I still wore my dress, which he pushed up around my hips before pulling my panties to my knees. I shivered at the turn of events, letting him lead me. Somehow, I knew better than to go against him at that moment. It was much more fun letting him tell me what to do.
I felt him line up against my entrance, holding my breath in anticipation of what was to come. He’d been so thick and hard in my hand, I could only imagine how good it would feel once he fucked me.
And I wanted him to. I wanted it hard, fast, and deep. He’d unlocked something in me, some primal force.
When he slid inside so hard and fast our bodies crashed together, I cried out as my muscles clenched around him and I came again. Almost as great as the pleasure was the surprise, as I hadn’t expected it again that soon. I screamed, clenching the sheets in my hands as I shook and pulsed around his length.
He continued pummeling me with hard, sharp thrusts, sending me into an almost continuous orgasm, just one long wave of excruciatingly sweet pleasure. He wouldn’t let up, never slowed down, taking me his way.
He held my hips in a tight grip, pulling me against him in time with his thrusts, doubling the intensity. I rode him as he rode me, taking more and more from him. He filled every inch of me, hitting me at just the right angle and pace to drive me insane.
I screamed so loud, so long, my voice broke. All that came out were throaty croaks as I nearly lost my mind with pleasure.
“Yes, yes, yes . . .” It was all I could say, all I could get out between his rapid-fire thrusts.
I felt his urgency, the change in pace and strength, and my muscles contracted around him once more as he sent me over the edge.
“Fuck!” I shrieked, almost sobbing as I came one last time. He was the only thing holding me up, my hips in his hands, and he slammed once more against me with a roar.
I couldn’t believe it. He let go of my hips as he slid out of me and I collapsed onto my side.
I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I’d been run over by I truck.
I couldn’t believe it.
He was on his back on the other side of the bed. I sensed him rather than saw him, my eyes closed as I fought to regain my breath. It was almost too much to be believed. I hadn’t known it could be like that. That wasn’t the sort of sex a girl learned about. She had to experience it for herself.
I looked down at my dress, all bunched up and twisted. I should have felt cheap, like a tawdry whore. I didn’t—in fact, I liked looking and feeling that way.
I couldn’t believe that, either. What had he done to me?
What would he do with me once we were finished?
His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling. God, he was beautiful.
Would he want me to leave? That was the question on my mind.
Should I get up, straighten myself out? I wasn’t even sure I could walk on my shaky legs, much less make it downstairs to a cab.
It was like he sensed my hesitation, and he turned with a soft smile on his face. “Thank you for that,” he mumbled.
“You’re thanking me?” I chuckled softly, still a little out of breath.
“Why don’t you get out of that dress?” he asked. “I lost control of myself. Sorry. I just couldn’t wait.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I assured him. I rejoiced as I slid my panties over my feet, then knelt to raise the dress over my head until there was nothing left separating me from him.
He watched me, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. I almost hoped he didn’t want to do it again, since I wasn’t sure I could take more.
He didn’t make a move in that direction, so I did the only thing I could think to do in my shaky, vulnerable state: I curled up next to him, hoping he would hold me.
He did.