A flare of pain from inside set the unbearable pleasure into a free fall. I rippled and squeezed, my legs locking against my hand as I rubbed my clit in time to his thrusting cock. Nothing else mattered but the incessant want to give in to this ravaging hunger.

It was too good.

It was too much.

He grabbed the back of my neck, rising onto his knees as he drove into me with short, deep jerks. My orgasm evolved into elastic boomerangs, bouncing down the walls of my pussy, tightening and splintering until I gave up and fell cheek first against the carpet.

The tip of his cock hit me too hard, too high. I squirmed to get way, but he yanked me back and joined me in the golden blissful glow. He quaked and quivered, coming deep inside me.

Epic aftershocks shook us as we stayed exactly where we were—a heap of finery joined in place.

The outside world slowly made an appearance as the limousine slowed and the driver’s intercom crackled. “We’re here, sir.”

Penn slapped the button. “Give us a minute. We’ll get our own doors. Under no circumstances open them, got it?”

“Got it.”

I had carpet burn on my cheek and looseness in joints I couldn’t even name, but as Penn slid out of me and disposed of the condom into a tissue, he gently helped me up and pressed a stinging kiss to my delicate face.

“Christ, look what I did to you.”

With infinitesimal kindness, he grabbed another tissue, positioned me onto the seat and knelt between my legs. When I tried to close them, he opened my knees and kept them wide with a stern look. Never glancing away, he wiped me clean, slid my panties back into position, and pulled my dress down.

“You got away easy, Elle. So fucking easy.”

Doing up his fly, he ran both hands through his hair then opened the door and stepped out.

Chapter Thirty-Two

THOSE FIRST FEW steps into the night extravaganza were some of the hardest I’d ever walked.

Not only because I ached in places one should never ache in public but also because Penn shut down. He’d said things in the car I wanted to chase. He’d slipped, and I was anxious to encourage him to slip more.

All I wanted to do was find a quiet spot and demand him to open up to me, but he didn’t give me a chance.

Grabbing my hand, he smiled and nodded at people milling around the entrance, tugging me inside the opulent hotel ballroom where the function took place.

Hundreds of people laughed and mingled, glittering like fallen stars all dressed in silver. The tables around the perimeter of the room looked like flying saucers adorned with lace and crystal candelabras.

“You have a choice, Elle,” Penn murmured as he guided me through the thicket.

When he didn’t give me the options to go with the choice, I frowned. “What options?”

“Two things are happening tonight that are non-negotiable.”

My fingers tensed in his. “I don’t agree to things I can’t control.”

He smirked. “Like you agreed to fuck me? That wasn’t in your control.”

I swallowed, hating he had a point. Then again, he’d asked me if I trusted him. He’d sought permission, passing me the power to deny.

Which I didn’t.

I nursed that little conclusion, giving him the limelight.

“Two things.” He smiled roguishly. “The only thing you can control is the order in which they happen.”

Pursing my lips, I accepted a glass of champagne he lifted off a silver platter carried by a white-uniformed waiter.

“Number one, you’re going to drink. I want you tipsy—like you were that night you said yes. I want you loose and inhibited and open to doing whatever I want.”

My swallow of champagne—already bitter and not wanted turned sour. “That was a one-time thing. I don’t drink to excess.”

“Tonight, you do.” Unthreading his fingers from mine, he cupped my elbow, guiding me past a particularly big group of minglers. “I need you open.”

“Why?”

“Because after this function, we’re going to talk.”

I tripped in my heels. “Talk?”

His forehead furrowed, his normally handsome face marked with frustration. “You want to know who I am, Elle?” He moved closer, whispering in my ear with seduction and chicanery. “I’ll tell you. But for you to accept the truth, you have to have an open mind.”

I took another sip of champagne—not because of his order but because my mouth shot dry with nerves. “Why do I need an open mind?” I pulled back, looking into his dark bronze eyes. “Who are you?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Rolling his shoulders, his voice clipped with tension. “You’ll get your answers. But only if you do what you’re told.”

I bristled at the condescending remark.

“I’ll tell you, Elle, but it won’t change a thing.” He caressed my cheek with sudden devotion. “You've been mine since the moment we met, and you'll stay mine until I let you go. Anything else—all your arguments, denials, and refusals—mean nothing to me.” He leaned forward until our noses brushed. “Remember that when I tell you. You've already lost. Why? Because you are mine.”

I jerked back, breathing hard and slightly scared.

He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Looking over the crowd—his vision easily a few inches taller than most—he murmured as if he hadn’t just ransacked my world, “Your choice. Either drink now...or...”