I stare in awe at the mind-blowing floral display before me, my chest almost collapsing in on itself from the shock. I walk slowly to the vase closest to me, stroking the petals of a long black rose gently. They’re real. This is real. I look up and catch sight of my face in the mirror.
Any resolve I had before I walked in here starts melting away. This sexy man is playing my heart like a guitar, and all I want is for him to keep up this insane melody.
When I turn, he’s waiting for me. He’s dressed in a black suit, his hair wet from a recent bath. His jaw is clenched, and though he’s standing with his feet braced apart and his arms crossed, he gives off an air of restlessness. As if he doesn’t know how this is going to go.
My heart melts right along with the rest of me. It seems I’m the not the only person coming undone.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Kit finally says, a muscle working in the back of his jaw as he holds my gaze. He seems to be thinking about what to say.
I stare around the room, still unable to believe he went to all this trouble.
“Kit...what’s the occasion?”
He exhales, then looks around. “Turns out, black roses...natural black roses...only grow in this village in Turkey. So it took some time to bring them in.” When his eyes meet mine, they’re bright with emotion. He walks slowly toward me, a smile playing on his lips. “I felt like setting the creative tone for the evening, to celebrate your vision.”
I don’t reply. My heart is racing and I’m light-headed. This doesn’t feel real. The smell of the roses is so strong that I feel like I’ve died and gone to flower heaven. But this is too much. I’m not sure that I’m ready.
Kit stops only inches away from me. He smells a little sweaty, like the anticipation of this moment has got him all riled up. What happened to Mr. Calm, Cool and Collected? Then again, I’m not exactly a portrait of composure; right now, my legs are actually trembling.
“I want you,” he tells me quietly.
My voice isn’t my own. It’s too breathy, too vulnerable. “I want you, too,” I manage to whisper. This is what he’s made me. This is what he’s done to me.
Nostrils flaring as if my admission does something to him, he runs a finger from my eyebrows, down my cheek, to my chin. It rests there for a moment before continuing its journey down my neck.
As he reaches my collarbone, he brushes aside the strap of my dress and presses his lips to the skin beneath it. It’s agonizing. He’s kissing everywhere but my lips. But I don’t want him to stop. My whole body clutches in yearning, and my skin burns under every spot his lips touch.
His lips trail to my jaw, tiny kisses like whispers caressing my skin.
His hands find my hips and I want to crush my body against him. But I hold back because I sense that this moment is far too tender. I’m scared if I move, everything we’re sharing will shatter, like waking up from a beautiful dream.
I need to get this out of my system. I need to get him out of my system. I cup my hand around his neck, drawing his face closer to mine. We stay close, but not touching for a few moments, the only sound in the air that of our heavy breathing.
“Kit...why did you do all this?” I ask. I don’t want to break the moment, but I have to know.
Kit’s nose nudges mine so that I’m forced to look at him. “I wanted to do something special for you. Have a moment alone with you. And... I really needed to see you.”
My stomach dips pleasantly and I can’t help but smile. Kit caresses my cheeks as he continues. “I know we didn’t have the best start, but this whole time...”
“I know,” I whisper. I know because I felt it, too. As crazy as this is, it’s starting to feel like it was meant to be.
When his lips cover mine, I sigh into his mouth, our bodies finally finding any way possible to touch.
He presses me hard against the door, his hands exploring every inch of me. His tongue flicks relentlessly over mine, first coaxingly, then faster and more demanding as I open wider to him and let him have it. Let him have me.
Kit hooks a hand under my knee and pulls it up, so my leg is curled around his hips. He nips my ear with his teeth and I gasp, melting further into him. He stops for a moment and we make eye contact. We’re frozen in time, staring at one another. The whole world seems to recede; it’s only him. I try to recall sex with my other partners. Did it ever feel this way?
Never.
“It’s a beautiful night...” Kit whispers, his nose nudging mine again. “Shall we go outside?”
I nod, still dazed. Kit’s movements become gentle again. I unhook myself from him, missing his body against mine the moment we part.
He wants me, I keep thinking. Dazed. Amazed. And wanting—no, aching—for him, too.
Quietly, Kit takes my hand in his and guides me through the house. Fresh June air hits my sweaty skin and I can’t help feeling relieved. I get the feeling things are about to get much hotter anyway.
The sun is beginning to set, reflecting on the pool. It’s the romantic setting I never imagined being in. Kit turns to me, his eyes bright. He lets go of my hand, backing himself up to sit on a lounger. He beckons me with one finger as he lies back, his member bulging against his pants. But I want to be in control. He might be my boss at work, but here, even in his territory, it’s a different story.
I shake my head.
He watches in curiosity as I step out of my shoes, taking baby steps in his direction. I allow my hand to gently run up the length of my body. I touch my face. My breasts. My legs. My right hand trails up the back of my dress and finds the zipper, slowly pulling it down. Kit watches with his lips slightly parted, his eyes darting all over my body. He doesn’t know where to look.
I smile to myself. I’ll show him where to look.
I push the dress from my shoulders and let it fall away from me. Now I’m standing there in nothing but a black thong. I hear the intake of his breath as my fingers dance around the lace underwear, slowly dipping underneath the material to tease myself.
From years of bad dates and allowing unworthy men into my life, I’ve learned to pleasure myself the way I deserve. I’m already wet as my fingers part my sex, nudging my clit as I begin to take the pleasure I’ve waited so long for. Kit fixes me in his gaze as he removes his jacket and shirt, his shoes already discarded beside him. I move closer, ready to let him have a role.
I straddle him with my hand still buried between my legs. Then I dip myself down to grind up against him, making him moan. One of his hands works on my breasts, his thumb and forefinger pinching my nipples, while his other hand guides my hips, working up a rhythm. Our eyes meet and I decide to give him a show he’ll enjoy. I bite my lip with a knowing smile, increasing my pace against him. He looks a little surprised at my ferocity, but not disappointed. He swoops in for a kiss, my eyes closing in bliss as my lips part.
Suddenly, he’s flipped me onto my back before I can protest. He looks smug as he kisses my chest, making his way down my body.
“I can’t let you do all the hard work,” he murmurs. Giving me a wolfish smile as he raises his amber gaze, his teeth clamp on the string of my thong, tugging it down my legs.
In the process, he exposes my hand, my fingers still working on my clit. As my thong reaches my ankles I kick it off, giving Kit a clear path. He nudges my legs apart, kissing my thighs. My breathing quickens in anticipation. I know what’s coming, my body clutching in want.
Kit’s tongue is warm as he runs it along my sex. I close my eyes, soaking up the attention. He nudges my clit and a shiver runs down my spine, a moan escaping me. It only brings him closer, his hands holding my hips in place as he sets a deeper kiss on me, licking and kissing me between my legs. I’m unused to this intimacy with another person, but I love it. I clench my legs along the sides of his head, pulling him in closer, but he doesn’t complain. The movements of his tongue seem to become even more skilled and fierce as he continues, his fingers possessively digging into my hipbones.
Before I know it, he’s sent me over the edge. My first orgasm overcomes me and I moan, tilting my head back to enjoy the moment. But Kit doesn’t give me much time to recover. I hear his belt drop with a clatter and feel myself tremble again as he stands, looming above me.
I reach out. My hands shake as I loosen his shirt from the waistband of his slacks. “I want you,” I rasp. He helps me tug open the rest of his shirt buttons and shrugs off his shirt. I admire his glorious physique for a moment and then lean forward to lick one nipple. Playfully, first. More hungrily after hearing him groan deep in his throat.
He seems desperate as he pulls off his pants and his boxers, revealing his impressive length.
I lick my lips as he positions himself between my thighs. No longer playing. Both of us too eager for the other. He twines one of my legs around his hips and pins one of my hands at my side, then works on a condom with his free hand. When he enters me, I moan. I moan again when he withdraws, and moan harder when he returns.
“Kit,” I gasp.
“That’s right, Alex. My beautiful, strong Alex, who is it that you want?”
“You.”
My free hand wanders over his back, my nails leaving claw marks as our pace quickens. My pinned hand clenches and unclenches with each of his delicious thrusts.
I realize very quickly Kit is expert at this. He drives into me like he can’t get enough, watching me take him with moan after moan. His eyes flash as my own gaze blurs from the pleasure. His pace is relentless, powerful, dominating.
I see stars when I’m overtaken by a second orgasm. This time I explode so hard I’m crying his name. I don’t even realize I do it. He groans my name in return, ducking his head close to my ear, voice raw and quiet. In that moment my name sounds hotter than I ever imagined it could sound.
I spread myself wider to give him space and Kit continues to sink into me. It’s as if he never wants to stop being inside me. I gasp each time he enters me. He’s not being slow and gentle. He’s moving like he needs me right this second. He kisses me with equal fervor. I’m not complaining one bit. He releases my wrist and tugs gently at my hair, his grip on me tight, but forgiving. He’s rough as he kisses me, but in a good way. I don’t ever want him to let me go, to stop giving me these fiercely, violently tender kisses. I stare up at the evening sky and the last rays of sunlight that streak across its horizon. Kit’s face is cast in their glow as he eases back to meet my gaze again. His expression is tight with passion, eyes bright gold and beautiful, and I want him, I want all of him. I push him to his back and suddenly lower myself onto him. Impaling myself. Kit’s muscular body is now beneath me, and I’m riding him. Shamelessly.
He clenches his jaw and his eyes blaze bright as he cups my breasts, which bounce with my movements. Then he grabs my pelvis and thrusts upward at the same time he pulls me downward.
We’re staring at each other as if nothing else exists. Kit’s eyes continue getting shinier but darker, his eyelids half-mast, his pupils dilated. A low groan rumbles up from his chest, his hands clenching on my hipbones as he drives up and goes off.
He’s beautiful at this moment, shrouded in sweat, his face tight in passion as he pulls me deeper down onto him. As he rocks back and forth during his orgasm, I close my eyes, feeling him feel me, riding him to oblivion as my body starts tightening again. I’m surprised when he reaches between our bodies to flick my clit with his thumb, and suddenly the touch, coupled with the passion of our lovemaking, sends me off a third time.
When I finally open my eyes, Kit’s chest is glistening with sweat, rising and falling with his breaths. His hands are still on my hips. Possessive. Strong and gentle at the same time. He has this gorgeous smile on his face.
He’s still inside me, our bodies still one.
My heart hurts in my chest while simultaneously it feels like it’s flying somewhere in the heavens. In this moment, that elusive perfect design that every designer craves—perfect on the inside, on the outside, all around—that’s us. We are a perfect design.
* * *
Moments later, Kit shifts me around and lowers me to his side, withdrawing but keeping me flush with him. His arm remains protectively around my shoulders and pins me close.
I don’t want him to let go of me, and I’m surprised by how hard I cling to his shoulder so that he doesn’t.
“Shame on me,” Kit rasps softly, a dark brown curl falling over his forehead as he looks down at me. He sounds apologetic, but his smile is very male and satisfied. “You deserve a bed, Miss Croft.”
“I don’t want a bed. But if you insist.” I groan and stretch a little in his arms. I feel so good. The way Kit regards me makes me feel even better. I stroke my fingers lovingly along his hard shoulders.
“Come along, then. Let’s get you inside.” He scoops me up as if I were a little girl and I giggle as he dips me to the ground so I can pick up our clothes. “Want to bring that along?” he asks.
“It might come in handy later,” I tease as I quickly pull our clothes into my arms and bundle them all together in a ball. Kit carries me into his mansion.
“How gentlemanly.”
I leave our clothes on my lap and I link my fingers behind his strong neck. I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt this pampered—or cherished.
Never, Alex.
The thought that I’ve never felt this happy confuses me. The feelings I’m experiencing are so strong that I don’t even know what to call them. Nervousness and guilt over what I just did with the boss is there. And yet, even stronger than that, there’s another feeling. And that is freedom. The kind I’ve never felt before.
“There are many things you don’t know about me,” Kit huskily warns as he looks down at me with a playful expression. “That you need to learn firsthand rather than picking it up from office gossip.”
“Like what?”
“Like...” He pauses, his forehead scrunching as he considers it. “I’m chivalrous.”
“Are you sure?” I fake disbelief. “How come this has never come up in the office gossip before?”
A smirk touches his lips. “I just hadn’t found the right lady to bring out this trait in me.”
“Aha.” I laugh.
He brings me to the kitchen and sets me down on one of the stools lined up at the counter. He takes our clothes and sets them on the sofa in the adjacent living room and then disappears. He returns wearing black silk pajama bottoms and offers me a white terry bathrobe to slip into.
I stand and cover my nakedness with the robe. As I knot the sash around my waist, I pad into the kitchen and try to at least pretend I’m not staring at his athletic form and the way his chest and muscles ripple as he moves around, pulling out glasses and flatware for us. “What’s this about?” I ask.
“I won’t ask you to dinner and leave you hungry.” He pulls out a bottle of white wine that’s been chilling in the refrigerator.
“My, my, you cook?” I tap the corner of my mouth in interest and eye the bottle of wine he presents. I’m impressed by his choice.
“No.” He grins as he extracts two covered plates from the hot drawer next to the fridge. “But I have excellent skills in hiring the best cooks around.”
Eyes twinkling playfully, he jerks his chin in the direction of the dining table. A silent command for me to sit there. I take a seat, and Kit sets the plates on the table, then takes the chair at the head, next to me.
He pours the wine. We have the most delicious pasta for dinner. I find myself laughing and sending sultry glances his way over the rim of my wineglass. Why does this boy bring out the flirt in me? No. Not boy. He’s a man, the most attractive one I’ve ever known.
I feel so relaxed, I could stay here with Kit in his mansion forever. But a pang reverberates in my heart because I know I can’t. This is just a stolen moment—and it won’t last.
Not with him.
I still relish it, though.
Kit makes me laugh. And I realize as we talk about Cupid’s Arrow and his plans for the company that I admire him. That I may have even misjudged him. True, he is more relaxed than I am, but underneath the casual attitude and party boy facade lie a sharp mind and a kind heart. I even like his sense of humor. The way that lock of dark hair falls over his eyes. The way he’s shown respect for me. Even the way he is with his father. I bet he would make a good father himself one day. I’m surprised I even think that. But the image of a gorgeous little Kit toddling around makes me smile.
“Fess up, Miss Croft. What’s that smile all about?”
I choke on a laugh—there’s no way I’d tell him what I was just thinking. Instead, I say, “You’re very surprising, Mr. Walker. Seems you’re on your way to mending your wicked ways at the tender age of...?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Ah.” I nod over this revelation.
“Ah, what?”
“I’m twenty-four. But I’m way ahead of you in experience.” I wave his age off as if it doesn’t mean anything.
Kit leans forward and challenges me with a sharp glance, his voice deep and suggestive. “Work experience, maybe. Life, I’m not so sure, Alex. Sexually I’m certain I’ve got decades on you, pussycat.”
“Kit Walker! You can’t complain about what happened just now.” An alien blush creeps up my neck as I speak those words and it seems to bring out Kit’s mischievous smile again.
He slowly shakes his head. “Not one bit. Except...” he trails off.
“Except what?”
His voice drops a decibel. “I’m not done with you, Miss Croft.” He reaches out to squeeze my hand over the table before he pours us some more wine.
I don’t know why, but I’m restless as we finish dinner now. Eager to feel his hands on me again. To come undone for this man—my boss—again.
Kit carries the plates to the sink. And before I can even look at my clothes piled up on his fine living room couch, he links his fingers with mine and leads me up to his bedroom.