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Drake

 

 

 

Standing outside her room last night I almost lost control. I never lose control.

I had wanted to kiss her so badly, I found myself rocking forward on my toes, drawn to her. I could almost taste her lips: she would have been sweet with a hint of the champagne she’d had earlier. The way she lifted her face towards me like a flower facing the sun…

She wanted me to kiss her.

She parted her perfect lips. I got a glimpse of her pink tongue as it swiped across her bottom lip. I had hardened instantly at the thought of those lips around me.

I wanted my wife.

But I had made a promise.

Now her four-night reprieve was over.

Tonight she was mine.

Mine.

Heat flooded my body as images of her naked body under mine, her head thrown back, my tongue exploring her sweet untouched folds, her cries—

“Drake?”

I glanced up. Samantha was standing behind my desk, tapping her pen on her notepad. Ah, shit. I pulled myself farther under the desk to hide my raging erection. The last thing I wanted was for my assistant to think it was inspired by her.

Her blue eyes narrowed at me. “Are you okay, Drake? You seem distracted.”

“Fine,” I said automatically.

I could go home. Right now. Noriko was at home waiting for me. My body screamed, fuck, yes.

But all this work… I glanced over the files and papers on my desk. More reports to read, more papers to sign, financials to review… There was always more work that needed doing. It was never-ending.

Right now, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less.

Noriko’s voice rang in my head. “There’s more to life than work.”

What did it matter if I took off early for once? The world wasn’t going to stop turning. What was the point in being the boss if I couldn’t make the fucking rules?

“Actually, I have to go,” I said, standing and grabbing my jacket from the stand behind my desk.

“Go?” Sam shuffled through her papers, then looked up. “You don’t have any meetings on your calendar.”

“I’m not going to a meeting. I’m going home.” To my wife. To my sexy, combative wife. I was glad my button-up jacket hid my obvious excitement over this prospect.

“But…” Sam blinked rapidly at me as I grabbed my wallet and phone from the desk, “…it’s quarter past five.”

“Don’t people usually finish work at this time?”

“Yes, but…not you.”

“Go home, Sam. There’s more to life than work.”

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me. “Who are you and what have you done with Drake Blackwell?”

I laughed softly as I strolled past her, still frozen to the spot. My steps felt light. “Go home, Sam. That’s an order.”

 

 

 

As soon as I got home, I instructed Loretta to let Noriko know that I would be coming to her. As much as I was dying to go straight to her, I wanted to make myself presentable first. I had to…calm myself. In the shower, I palmed my aching cock in my hands, coming against the tiles to the thought of her.

I fussed around with shirts and pants for far too long. What the hell is this? I was like a teenager going on his first date. I growled and yanked on a plain white shirt. These clothes weren’t staying on for long. A quick brush of my damp hair, a spray of cologne and I was striding down the short distance to her suite.

I paused outside her bedroom.

I could hear movement beyond the door. I lifted my fist to knock, finding I had to clear a tiny knot in my throat. Was I…nervous?

Ridiculous. Mr. Blackwell, CEO of Blackwell Industries, did not get nervous.

“Come in,” her sweet voice called.

I slipped inside her room and shut the door behind me.

She stood in front of her futon, her fragile body precarious in a pair of towering heels, a black dress hugging her tiny waist and skimming over her slim hips. Her dark, long hair framed her sweetheart face, her lips a vibrant red.

Damn.

She was a siren cloaked in innocence, that perfect blend of girl and woman, built to lure men to their doom.

Mrs. Blackwell.

My wife.

Mine.

Satisfaction and lust pooled in my lower belly, causing my lip to tug up and my dick to swell again. This was turning out to be an extremely worthwhile investment.

Her eyes met mine, widening before her gaze dropped to the floor. For the first time since I met her, Noriko appeared nervous. Unsure.

I frowned. I wanted her to be comfortable. I wasn’t sure how to do that. I knew that striding over there and tearing her clothes off with my teeth was not going to make her relax.

“Noriko.”

“Mr. Blackwell,” she said, her voice as soft as falling snow.

“Please, call me Drake.”

What now?

Right. She likes to talk. Like she did at dinner the other night. I remembered some questions she asked me. “Did you have a good day?” I echoed her.

Her eyes lifted to mine in surprise before she lowered her lashes again. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good. Very good.” I cleared my throat. What now? “What did you do?”

“I…read.”

She liked to read.

“What book?”

She shuffled a little. “Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. I…took it from your library. I hope you don’t mind.”

The Art of War. From my library. I didn’t mind. In fact, a tug of respect went through me. Perhaps…perhaps she’d like to discuss it after she was done reading it. “Of course not. This home is yours, too. You can do what you like. Go where you like.”

“Except call my father. Or go into the west wing,” she blurted out. “Sir,” she added quietly, seemingly remembering herself.

I couldn’t help a laugh. There she is.

When she raised her chin this time, there was a glare on her face. “What’s funny?”

“You are.” I closed the gap between us in several long strides, causing her throat to bob and her eyes to widen. “You acting all unsure and nervous. Almost like you’re scared of me.”

She blinked at me before looking away. Her onyx eyes, wide and pointed at the corners, reminded me of a cat’s. Her mouth was a tightly closed rosebud. I almost groaned when I imagined her lips making a vivid red circle around my cock.

“Usually you are not so scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you…”

I understood. “You’re scared about what I’m going to do to you.”

She folded her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“Don’t be afraid,” I said in my clunky Japanese. “I won’t hurt you. Will never hurt you, understand?” Not unless you ask me to. But I didn’t say that. Not yet.

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little. Her eyes drew to mine. They caught me, drawing me in, tugging me, urging me to lose myself in her. The effect was even more startling than when I was gazing at her photo. She was here. She was real. A beautiful wife of my own. An odd, satisfied feeling warmed my chest.

I lifted my finger to her cheek to feel her skin. Damn. She was softer than anything I had ever touched. A blush deepened under her pale skin. God, I bet she was this soft everywhere.

I traced down her neck and to her shoulder, where I flicked off one shoulder strap, then I trailed across her collarbone, enjoying her shivering, before I flicked off the other. My fingers were surprisingly steady, unlike the erratic raging of the beast inside my body. I’d been aching for her for four days, the pressure built up; it felt like my lust had its own heartbeat. This creature inside me wanted to tear her apart. Perhaps if I was younger I’d lose control like that.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed. I caught a whiff of her smell, fresh clean soap, uncluttered by expensive perfumes that women usually wore like a cloud around them. Just a hint of cherry blossoms. Her shampoo, perhaps. I wanted to press my nose into her hair to make sure. I restrained myself. I didn’t want to scare her any more than necessary.

I brushed her long, straight raven hair—so damn soft—aside to access the opening of her dress. My cock hardened at the sound her zipper made as I drew it down. I let go. Her dress slid down over her hips, obediently to the floor. She was slender and tiny. Something about her made me want to…protect her. To take care of her.

I tugged down her panties, reveling in the way she shuddered as my fingers trailed down the sides of her thighs. They fell around her heels in a swirl of lace.

I walked around her and took her all in: slim waist, pale slender legs, her budding breasts, tiny brown nipples tipped with pink. I was filled with the urge to pinch them between my fingers and watch her mouth part. My cock throbbed, straining against my slacks. I haven’t wanted a woman like this in…in a long time.

My self-control was going to be tested. I knew this for sure.

Her eyes remained down, her tiny fists at her sides.

I’d never had a woman remain so still for me.

The minute a woman wanted to dominate me in bed she lost me. If I wanted to fuck someone with balls, I’d fuck a man. I wanted something soft and…breakable. But I didn’t want her to shatter if I barked too loudly.

She was fire and silk. Bite and fragile beauty.

She was…perfect.

I held her chin, tilting up her face. “You’re a virgin.”

It wasn’t a question. She answered anyway. “Yes,” she whispered.

A thrill shot down my spine. I’d never had a virgin.

Even expensive toys weren’t this exclusive. Take my Bugatti Veyron, two-toned in black and silver. I paid $1.7 million and change for it. There were only three others in America. But there was only one of this exquisite treasure. Nobody else had touched her. Nobody else would have her…except for me.

She was mine.

Soon she would be carrying my child.

My fingers trailed down her neck, to her small, perky breasts. My hands took their fill of her soft, natural flesh, rolling those nipples between my fingers, which hardened into pebbles and caused her to whimper. That sound was delicious.

As I explored her body my own began to relax, my mind began to unclutter itself of the day’s burdens, the coils in my muscles unwinding. My focus drew solely on her, her reaction to my fingers against her clit, her breathing deepening, her body tightening, the wetness marking her entrance.

I wanted more. I wanted to be inside her. Where no man had touched before. I slipped a finger into her soft heat. God help me, she was warm and wet. My cock ached from jealousy. I slid my finger in and out, at the same time rubbing my thumb over her clit. I was rewarded by her little gasps, noises she was trying hard not to make, her sweet little pussy growing wetter and wetter.