But I couldn’t. I couldn’t shatter whatever existed in this limousine.
I nodded ever so slowly, pretending hesitation while my mind raced with possibility.
“Yes...”
“Good.” He grunted, tearing my hands away and shoving me off his lap. “Get on all fours.”
“What?” My eyebrows rose. My hair clung to my back, no doubt turning sweat-damp and curly.
“You heard me.” Fisting his cock, he pulled a condom from his pocket, and with jerky control, rolled it down his length.
His throat contracted as every last bit of light disappeared from his face. “Fucking turn around, Elle. You started this. I’ll finish it.”
“I didn’t start it. You kissed me.”
“But then you straddled me and made me forget something very important.”
“What’s important?”
His jaw hardened. “None of your concern. Now, turn around.” He slid off the seat, slamming to his knees. Shoving his trousers to mid-thigh, he twirled his finger in the air, waiting for me to obey and turn.
I didn’t want to face away from him. I didn’t feel safe not being able to see what he was about to do. But at the same time, the idea of being taken so rustic and pure made my breasts tingle and an orgasm already gather in my belly.
Without a word, I kneeled in the long runway of black carpeting with bench seats on either side. I had no support to hold onto as the limo turned corners. I had no way of preventing myself from soaring forward if we crashed.
I gave utter trust to Penn and his control of the situation.
My fingers dug into the rough carpet, already mourning the runs in my sheer pantyhose. No one in the outside world would know what we did even as we stopped at traffic lights and drove past pedestrians carrying their groceries.
I cried out as his hand clamped on my hip, tugging me backward. The tip of his cock found my entrance.
I tensed for him to take me. But he waited, tantalizingly close.
My body rocked back, forcing him inside a fraction.
He growled from behind me. “You have no idea, Elle. No idea.”
Then he thrust.
One fast, all-consuming, unapologetic thrust.
I fell forward onto my elbows. My wrists weak from typing all day, I was unable to brace against his power. His hands latched around my waist, keeping my ass high and driving into me.
I breathed hard, inhaling scents of leather and car freshener, but most of all him. His dark aftershave, his arousal, the rich indescribable scent of Penn.
“I need you,” he snarled, thrusting faster. “I need you so fucking much.”
“So take me then.” My head hung between my shoulders, forgetting everything but where we were joined.
There was no soreness or tenderness. Only the righteous feel of him inside, bruising me in all the right ways. My body fisted around him, already banding with the beginning of a release.
He smacked my thigh. “No, you don’t get to come until I do.” He was breathless, same as me. He was possessed, same as me.
I wouldn’t need to drink tonight.
I was already drunk.
On him.
“Goddammit, Elle.” He pushed forward, driving into me as hard as he could. His torso fell over my back with such a heavy groan it pained and excited me. Everything he did was erotic and wicked.
Reaching between my legs, I grabbed the base of him as he withdrew to thrust back inside me. He was hard as granite; so hot and slippery.
He grunted as I squeezed his balls, rolling them in my fingers until he batted my hand away and entered me with cracking brutality.
My breath caught as I trembled beneath him.
“Lust makes us do the most terrible things.” His teeth latched onto my neck, biting hard, his hips pistoning quick. “I’m going to come so fucking bad.”
I didn’t know if I’d been the one to seduce him, but he’d utterly decimated me.
I whimpered and moaned, feeling too full, too empty, too used, too protected. Polar opposites all at once. My craving increased until I bared my teeth and focused every nerve ending where he penetrated me.
I let go of decorum and placed my hand between my legs, rubbing my clit as I backed up hard into his next thrust. I played his game. I met him fighting. Lust tinged the humid air. Temptation cloaked us with every breath.
And that was the end for both of us.
His hands flexed over my waist.
I dared look back.
He was exquisite, his gorgeous body straining against the binds of his tuxedo. He didn’t look human, just a man intending to mate until death.
His head fell back, his lips tight against secrets he refused to share.
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 co
nclusion, 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...”
“Or?”
“Or I’ll permit you to keep your wits until after you’ve met Larry again.”
“Larry?”
From the park?
Deciding to annoy him, I said, “Ah, your fictional husband slash benefactor.”
“That’s starting to get old.”
My courage sprang from nowhere, bolstered by monster-sized curiosity. “Who is he to you? What exactly is a benefactor anyway?”
His face blocked all answers. “Why do you care?”
“I care because I hate being in the dark.”
“It’s better than other alternatives.”
My heart squeezed. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “Fine. I’ll answer the basics if it’ll stop your damn questions. Larry is family. He’s the only family I have. Stewie will be his adopted son soon. Which will make him my brother, for all intents and purposes.”
He took a breath, bracing himself to continue. “I used to...work...for Larry, until I branched off into my own expertise. He helped me when I had no one else, and I’ll forever have his back so if he gets sick again and needs to move to Zimbabwe for treatment, I’ll take him. If he suddenly told me he couldn’t adopt Stewie, I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat. Larry is the reason I still have a life—even if it is messed up.”
I clutched each answer before he could steal them back. So many questions to tug out more truth, but I focused on the easiest...for now. “And what is your expertise?”
“Stock market.”
I didn’t picture him as Wall Street guy. A lawyer perhaps with his sharp tongue and argumentative desire to turn every conversation into a debate. But not boring stocks and impersonal trades.
“Where are your mom and dad?” I drank him in, doing my best to read his body language as he stiffened.
“Dead. Have been since I was eleven.”
I flinched. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do it.” He looked over my head, his patience fraying. I doubted he’d permit any more questions, but I asked another. “You say Larry gave you back your life. How? Where did you guys meet?”
Penn chuckled darkly, shaking his head.
I tacked on another before he could revoke me asking anymore. “What about Stewie? Where did you meet him?”
He grinned, slipping back into the cultured shell that was utterly unreadable. “Enough.” He cupped my chin with his finger and thumb, holding me tight. “Choose. Drink now or later. Your call.”
I gulped as his gaze went to my lips. The room blurred with sexual tension. We’d just had sex but already the familiar ache began anew.
Deliberately placing the champagne on a table next to an identical empty flute, I straightened my back. “Later. I’d like to see what Larry will reveal before you scare me away and stop me from figuring out who you truly are.”
He laughed softly. “He won’t help with that, Elle. Only I can.”
“Well, help me then. Tell me. I know nothing about you. Where did you go to school? What sort of stocks do you trade? What’s your favorite hobby, drink, color, time of day?” My voice ran into one endless request. “It’s uncomfortable for me spending time with a man I don’t know, basing everything I do know off whatever chemistry our bodies decide to share.”
His lips tilted. “So you’re saying sleeping with me, while knowing nothing about me, isn’t exciting but terrifying?”
I nodded. “If you want to use extremes, yes.”
He removed his hold, letting my face go. “Careful what you wish for, Elle. Sometimes, secrets make things better not worse.” Dropping his eyes, they lingered on my naked throat, almost as if he traced an invisible necklace then he looked away, once again taking control by guiding me forward with an elbow touch.
Music fell gently from speakers, light classical with a thread of contemporary. It was meant to be relaxing, but I found a hint of macabre hidden in the notes. The laughing crowd didn’t notice and I didn’t dwell. Whatever happened tonight, I’d meet headfirst. If it meant this was the last time I’d see Penn because of some disastrous divulgence, then I would still wake tomorrow. I would still have my company, my father, my world.
Sure, it wouldn’t be as spicy without him in it, but I didn’t need him to make me whole.
Are you sure about that?
My heart had been a stupid thing. My ears had heard his lies, but my heart didn’t buy them. It didn’t judge or interrogate. It blindly followed where affection lay—making my feelings toward Penn woefully complicated.
I let him lead me—staying quiet and obedient out of respect that this was his night. His night to either reveal something I could accept or run away with horror. I was ready for either as long as he gave me answers.
Stewie found us first.
A small hand appeared from the crowd followed by an arm dressed in gray with navy pinstripes. He grinned as he planted himself in our trajectory, his attention on Penn. “Whatcha think?”
Penn slammed to a halt, rubbing his chin with his fingers in mock-serious contemplation. “Hmm...”
Stewie bought into the pantomime while I watched as an outsider, witnessing once again how many facets Penn had. He was strict and unyielding, but with Stewie, he was a joker, friend, and protector all in one.
“Very nice.” He looked at me. “What do you think, Elle? Your merchandise shrunk to Stew’s size.”
I reached forward, rubbing Stewie’s lapel, playing into the role of judgment. “I think the tailors did an amazing job, but the suit wouldn’t look good on just anyone.” I smiled, standing upright. “You wear that suit, Stewie, the suit doesn’t wear you.”
Stewie’s face scrunched up. “I don’t get it.”
Penn chuckled. “She likes it.”
“Sweet!” Stewie spun in pla
ce. “Larry said I can wear it to my school interviews next month. Said it will help me open doors that may be locked thanks to my background.”
Penn glanced at me quickly before nodding. “Wise man. But no doors will be locked; you have my word on that.” His hands clenched before relaxing. “Now, speaking of Larry, mind showing us where he’s hanging out?”
Stewie nodded, slipping into a quick jig-jog. “Sure, this way.”
Penn raised his eyebrow at me, took my hand, and together, we navigated the room.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I WAS WONDERING when you’d show up.” Larry grinned, shaking Penn’s hand as we popped from the crowd thanks to Stewie guiding us.
We’d traversed the ballroom to a quieter meeting room off to the side. Here, men and women huddled in their array of silver splendor, their voices hushed in discussion, soft with business and not for other people’s ears.
“Fashionably late.” Penn smirked. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”
“Not to your own event.”
Wait, his event?
I frowned. I died with impatience to ask what the evening supported. Why Penn would be the figurehead for something that deserved such a turn-out. But Penn waved at Larry then to me. “You remember Elle?”
“Of course, I do. I’m not blind, you idiot.” The name-calling carried heavy affection as Larry leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Hello, Elle. You look ravishing.”
I accepted his greeting, doing my best not to blush. “Thank you. You look dashing yourself.” Just like Penn dressed in a silver tuxedo, Larry wore a darker version. His salt and pepper hair matched the silver theme perfectly. Stewie was the only one to break the metallic code with his gray pinstripe.
Champagne was once again handed out. Penn plucked a glass, handing it to me with another raised eyebrow. I accepted it but didn’t take a sip—mainly in defiance.
Awkwardness fell.
I grasped for an appropriate subject. “So you said this was Penn’s event?” I glanced at the men. “I must admit he hasn’t given me any hints as to why I’m here or what the evening festivities are for.”
Larry shot Penn a disapproving glare. “He didn’t, did he?” He smiled. “Let me be the one to tell you then.”