Chapter 19

Bonnie

Nash’s chauffeur drove us to his home, and the moment my heels touched the gravel that covered the driveway, it was all I could to stop myself from gasping.

His home was a mansion, a rich red brick estate that went far beyond what my eyes could see. Or maybe it was just too dark. Either way, I looked around in awe as Nash led me up the steps to the front door. I couldn’t believe I was foolish enough to compliment the garden at the country club earlier. The gardens that surrounded Nash’s mansion were definitely far more elaborate. A waft of summer flowers carried to me in the breeze and it made me heady, a little weak in my knees.

Such splendid opulence. I drew in a breath as he led me into his house. A low-hanging crystal chandelier greeted us in the foyer, where a uniformed man held the door open for us. Nash’s home was designed and decorated in a style quite different from his office. While his office was modern and minimalistic, his home was more art-deco and regal.

“This house belonged to my mother’s family,” Nash said in a voice that jerked me out of my thoughts. I breathed in and turned to him, my eyes bright and amazed. He could probably see it on my face; I was floored.

“Come with me, Bonnie,” he said and began climbing up the long winding staircase.

I felt like I was in a dream again. He was leading me up to his bedroom, and I followed, willing and excited. Even a week ago, I would have never imagined that I would be in Nash Preston’s home.

I held on to the skirt of my dress as I followed him upstairs. Thickly carpeted floors muffled the clicking of my heels as Nash led me down a long corridor. At the end, he held the door open and I stepped in, my heart beating out of my chest.

It was a gorgeous room, decorated in an old Georgian style. The walls were a rich teal, dotted with gold light fixtures that once upon a time had carried candles. His bedroom was large enough to house a reading space in the corner, with its own coffee table and four chairs. A four-poster bed adorned the center, with lace trimmings hanging from the top, covering the bed as though it was in its own delicate tent. A fireplace remained dark on one wall, and the mantelpiece carried all of Nash’s old basketball trophies.

“Why don’t you display them in your living room?” I asked, walking over to run my fingertips across them. I knew about each of them, the ones he had gotten in college. I kept a vigilant yet well concealed eye on all his victories. Without attending a single game, I knew exactly when Nash Preston had led his team to victory. And he almost always won.

“I don’t feel the need to, and I don’t entertain as often as you think,” Nash said behind me. I turned to find him standing with his hands in his pockets. He had loosened his bowtie so that it fell in two pieces around his neck now.

“You suit this room, Bonnie,” he said, coming closer to me.

“Only with this necklace on,” I said with a laugh. But my laughter was cut quickly short, when Nash placed a hooked finger under my chin. He was gently raising my face up toward him.

“With or without the necklace, Bonnie. You look stunning,” he said and took my breath away. He was kissing me again, a soft gentle kiss like the one in the garden before we left.

My hands were on his shoulders, and his were on my waist. I was breathless from his kiss, and reeled under the pleasure of having his tongue in my mouth. He was taking his time, taking it slow. The rushed orgasms we’d had on the balcony were now replaced by gentleness. But I was burning up inside.

His hand found the zipper on the side of my dress and he pulled it down. My fingers found the buttons on his shirt. While we kissed, I fumbled with them till his chest was revealed. I gasped against his lips while I felt his skin, smooth and taut under my touch. A soft smattering of dark hair covered the center, and I ran my fingers through it. His chest was wide, like his shoulders, and I could finally touch his abs now. Strong, sculpted and more perfect that I had imagined they would be.

Nash pulled me closer, and my dress was slipping away, down my torso, to my waist. I felt his fingers weave through my long golden hair. Suddenly, he bunched up a fistful and tilted my head with a steady grip.

“I’m going to enjoy this, Bonnie. I’ve waited too long,” he said in a deep throaty voice. He had waited too long? What? Two days? I had been waiting for nearly eight years. Since the first time I saw him. I said nothing, gulping down my words as I stared back into his clear gray eyes.

His face had darkened, and it made me blush. My dress finally gave way, and I was standing naked, pressed to his body. For the first time, my breasts were going to be naked in his hands. My body trembled as I imagined him touching me.

With one splayed hand, Nash enclosed my left breast and squeezed. My eyes pressed close and I winced. How long had I wanted this? His thumb found my pink erect nipple that had been yearning for him. He flicked it and I winced again.

And then he bent his head to reach for it with his mouth. He had let go of my hair now and I leaned back. His wet lips first kissed my nipple and then he sucked, tugging hard, rolling it between his teeth before sucking again.

My panties were wet, and I could feel that familiar urge rising in me. This time I wanted him; I wanted him to actually fuck me. I wouldn’t be satisfied with his fingers anymore. I bunched his dark hair in my hands and I moaned, forcing my body to concentrate on one thing at a time. For now, Nash Preston was sucking on my nipples.

His mouth worked away as my wetness grew. I parted my legs instinctively because I wanted him inside, but he was busy doing something else. He was busy sucking on my breast, and my mind was exploding from the sensation.

I was out of breath by the time he raised his head to look at me. His gray eyes were piercing my soul. His face was completely serious; he wasn’t smiling anymore. Just when he was about to pull away from me, I reached for his cock. It was still in his pants but I cupped it and Nash groaned.

This time, he wasn’t going to push my hand away, and I licked my lips. My blue eyes were glazed over, I was in his trance again, but so was he. We weren’t ourselves as I began to stroke him. He undid his pants, sliding them down his legs. There it was again. His massive cock. The one I had fantasized about for so many years. The one I knew had tortured many women before me.

It throbbed, growing bigger in my hands when I grabbed it. Smooth like velvet, large and rock solid, I wanted it so bad. I stroked him harder and he grabbed my butt, grinding me up against him. Squeezing my ass, keeping me close to him as I brought him closer and closer. I was wetter now, if that was even possible, and he knew I was ready.

We were kissing again, his lips were on mine, his tongue leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck to the top of my cleavage. His cock continued to throb and grow in my hands. He was ready for me. I was ready for him. We were naked and pressed to each other, like we were clinging on for dear life.

“Enough,” he said, like it was a command and released me. “Down on the bed,” he ordered, pushing me gently toward it. With his hand on the small of my back, he bent me down. The lace hanging from the posts gently flapped again my face as I bent over the bed. My hands clasped the posters as I faced forward. Nash remained behind me.

“Nash…” I whispered. I just wanted to say his name. I wanted to scream it, and I felt his hands on my butt again.

“Shhh…” he said, just as he slid that huge cock inside me. He thrust gently, testing me, trying me out for size. I gasped when I felt the length of him. He was big and tight inside me, the biggest I had ever had. But he fit well inside me, reaching that spot he had reached with his fingers earlier.

I closed my eyes, my long hair hanging loose off both my shoulders. This was it. He was inside me. Then he started thrusting, and I started moaning, loudly. My grip on the posters strengthened as Nash pumped into me. Sliding in and out, making my body tremble. He was reaching in deep, increasing the force with every thrust. I could hear him grunting, groaning; it was difficult for both of us to hold back. But we both wanted to make it last as long as possible.

He felt strong and athletic behind me, holding me in place with his hands on my butt. His body was rigid and solid, driving into me, bringing me so close to the edge and then pulling back. I moaned, one loud face-reddening moan just as I was about to come.

“Yes!” he growled, and I knew we were going to come together. I felt him shoot inside me, and I came. My screams had grown louder, my body shook while he continued thrusting, over and over again.

I wanted to scream out his name again. He had made me come so easily, so quickly that I couldn’t believe it. He continued pumping into me, until I could feel that he was spent. I was done as well, but my body still shuddered.

Nash grunted when he started pulling out. I fell forward on the bed, exhausted. I heard a small laugh escape his lips and I turned my head to the side. That bed was like a cloud! I felt like I was floating. But that could very well just have been the Nash Preston effect.

“What?” I asked him, smiling as he stood with his shoulders heaving at the foot of the bed.

“You look like you’re ready to go to sleep,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

A sudden fear gripped me. Was he trying to give me a hint?

“Yeah, kinda, just tired. I’ll call for a cab,” I said, trying to straighten myself back up. I didn’t want to overstep. This was a fantasy, remember, not reality.

“Stay the night with me, Bonnie,” he said, in that soft earnest voice I had heard before in the garden. My heart leapt to my throat when I caught his gaze.

“I’ll get Joe to send us up some sandwiches,” he said, walking swiftly over to the landline on the bedside table.