Guarded King (Empty Kingdom #3)

Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHLOE

“ G ood afternoon, Chloe.” Phillip greets me with a smile.

“Good afternoon.” My cheeks heat as I approach him and Roman’s black town car.

God, what must he think about this clandestine Saturday afternoon meeting? He’s picking me up around the corner from my apartment instead of in front of it, as a precaution against prying eyes. But it must be obvious to him that the ‘meeting’ I’m about to have with Roman at his penthouse doesn’t have anything to do with work.

There’s no judgment in his expression, though, so maybe even if he does know, he really doesn’t care. Maybe I’m projecting my own feelings onto him.

I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who sleeps with her boss. Then again, I doubt many women would blame me. Roman is a force of nature. Beautiful and powerful and impossible to resist, but with a hidden soft side I doubt he lets many people see.

Being with him reminds me that life isn’t a color by numbers painting. Sometimes choosing to break the rules and color outside the lines results in something unique and beautiful.

So as Phillip opens the car door for me, I fight the urge to look away in embarrassment and instead smile my thanks and slide in.

When I find Roman sitting in the back seat, surprised butterflies take flight in my stomach. I wasn’t expecting him to come with Phillip, and I definitely didn’t expect to see him dressed so casually.

He’s wearing a charcoal T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders and wide chest and a pair of dark jeans that cling to his muscular thighs. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in anything but business wear.

My throat goes dry as I take him in. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

“I didn’t expect you.” The words are thin, breathless.

His smile is slow and sensual. “If we only have a few hours, I don’t want to waste any of it.”

As Phillip steers the car away from the curb, Roman holds out a hand. “Come here.”

I peek at the privacy screen, which is thankfully already in place, before I slide across to him.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his lap. “How’s your father?”

My heart flutters at the question. He keeps reminding me in ways just like this that, despite the air of aloofness he so often projects, he honestly cares about the people around him. I smile. “He and Carol are doing a jigsaw puzzle together. He’s happy.”

He nuzzles into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“It’s because of this job. Because of you.”

Pulling back, he fixes me with a serious gaze. “It’s because of you. Because you care about him. Because you’ve worked hard to give him what he needs.”

My throat tightens, but I shrug off the praise. “That’s what family does.”

“Is it?”

His tone is so neutral it has me studying his expression. What’s going on in his head? His childhood was difficult. Does that mean he doesn’t think his brothers would be there for him if he needed them? Or does he believe he’s let them down somehow? Either way, I can’t hold back my response.

I place both hands on his chest, trying to ignore the heat of his hard muscles through the thin material of his T-shirt. I’ll explore them later. Right now, I want him to try to see things the way I do.

“Your brothers care about you. It’s obvious. And it’s just as obvious you care about them. Don’t rule out how valuable that is just because your parents didn’t feel the same way. And maybe,” I wet my lips and consider stopping there. In the end, though, I decide to brave it. “Maybe you didn’t feel that way either for a while. My mother never did. That’s why she walked away from Dad and me so easily. She and I may share blood, but that just means we’re related—it doesn’t make us a family. Love is what makes a family. And love means you’ll always do what needs to be done, even if it’s hard. Even if it means giving up what you thought was important to you.”

A muscle pulses in his jaw. That’s the only response I get.

My stomach plummets. Have I overstepped by talking about his family? “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

His throat works on a swallow, and he shakes his head. “One of the reasons I couldn’t stay away from you is because you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. When you share your thoughts with me, they come straight from your heart. It’s a rare thing in my world.”

I let out a breath. “I suppose it’s what I hope to get in return.”

He strokes his thumb over my cheek. “It’s a beautiful thing.”

My heart flip flops. How can I resist falling for this man? Do I even have to? In his arms like this, I feel safe. Like maybe I can let go and he’ll be there to catch me.

I suppress that train of thought. It’s far too soon to be thinking things like that.

When his mouth descends on mine, I let my mind float free, and when his hands skim up my back, I welcome the rush of sensations his touch always brings.

Roman spends the rest of the trip slowly driving me crazy with his mouth and his hands. If he wanted to bring me right to the edge before we made it to his place, he’s succeeded. My panties are damp, and need is sparking through my body. All I want to do is strip my clothes off and let him have his way with me.

But first we have to get up to his penthouse.

When the car slows, I steal a glimpse out the window and immediately have to crane my neck to see the top of the tower. With the way it reflects the sky and clouds, it looks like it’s made entirely of glass.

That’s all I get to see of it before Phillip takes the car underneath the building.

In the private elevator on the way up, Roman continues his slow, determined assault on my body. He pins me against the cool stainless-steel wall, slides his hand up under my skirt and slips his fingers into my panties.

When he finds my clit, he rolls his fingers over it, and I respond by rocking myself against his hand. The pressure is enough to have me desperately chasing release but not enough to push me over the edge.

“I’m so close. Please let me come,” I plead.

He chuckles against my neck, the sound vibrating through me. “But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the way you’re so desperately trying to fuck yourself against my fingers. Don’t worry. I’ll make your first orgasm worth the wait.”

Before I can beg again, a soft ding announces that we’ve arrived and the doors whoosh open soundlessly. He backs me out of the elevator without slowing the movement of his hand. I get glimpses of the surrounding space, high ceilings, parquet floors, large, white pieces of furniture, and light streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows that he’s steering us toward. But most of it’s a blur as he continues to work my clit.

On the other side of the room, he turns me so his large, hard body is against my back, and I’m staring out at Central Park and Manhattan from a dizzying height.

I don’t have time to take in the magnificence of the view before he’s teasing my neck with his lips and tongue, and my eyes fall shut. He makes quick work of undressing me until I’m completely naked. Then he presses my overheated body and sensitive breasts against the cool glass.

“Can anyone see me?” My voice is breathless from a combination of nervousness and arousal.

“If they have binoculars.”

His mouth is on my neck again, hot and wet, and suddenly I couldn’t care less whether someone out there with a pair of binoculars might be watching us.

When I don’t protest, Roman’s lips curve against my skin. “Put your hands on either side of your head.”

I obey, and then his fingers slide into me again.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he groans.

I widen my stance to grant him more access, and as he pushes one finger, then two, inside me, stroking me just the way I need, I shudder. His palm rubs against my clit while he pinches and twists my nipple with his other hand.

The combination of sensations almost makes my knees give out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He grinds the steel bar of his erection against me, holding me in place, his fingers curling until he hits a spot that makes me shake. “Are you going to come all over my hand, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” I whisper.

The hand working my breast disappears, and the sound of a zipper cuts through the deafening thump of my heart. The next moment, he pulls his fingers out of me, leaving me achingly empty.

Before I can protest the loss of him, the slick sound of him lubricating himself with my arousal reaches my ears. I whimper, and then his hands are back, his thick shaft gliding between the cheeks of my ass.

“Look what you’ve made me do,” he growls against my neck, the heat of his breath sending a shiver through me. “I wasn’t planning to come yet. I wanted to feed you first, show you this isn’t just about sex, but you make me crazy. I can’t fucking help myself.”

The way he groans the last words has a fresh surge of arousal spilling out of me.

The grind of him behind me, the coolness of the glass, the dizzying view, and his hands on me— in me—is an overdose of stimulation. I’m already so on edge, it doesn’t take more than three strokes of his fingers before I detonate, my orgasm sending a shock wave of pleasure through me. Caged between his hard body and the window, I writhe and pant and come.

Roman grunts, pulling me tighter against him using the fingers still buried inside me. With a curse, he rides out his own orgasm, scalding spurts of cum splattering against my lower back and sliding wetly down my ass.

I press my burning cheek against the glass and breathe. My galloping heart slows along with his movements.

“Don’t move,” he says.

I obey, focusing on the way my breaths fog the window. Behind me, there’s a soft rustle of fabric, then he’s wiping his cum off me with his T-shirt.

When he’s done, he takes me by the shoulders and turns me. His pale gray eyes gleam with a feral kind of amusement as he looks down at me. “You turn me into a damn teenager.”

With a shaky laugh, I slide my hands over his biceps. “I don’t think a teenager would have ever made me come that hard.”

The corners of his mouth curl up. “Let me show you around. We can start with my shower.”

I bend down, reaching for my clothes, but he grasps my arm, stopping me and pulling me upright again.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m getting dressed.”

He arches his brows. “You’re just going to have to get undressed again when we get to the bathroom.”

Strangely enough, considering what we’ve just done, the thought sends nerves skittering over my skin. “I feel weird walking naked through your apartment.”

With his hand tangled in my hair, he tips my head back. The warmth in his usually cool gaze makes my heart flutter. “You don’t want to walk through my apartment naked?”

Feeling ridiculously shy, I shake my head.

Without warning, he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Roman!” I shriek as he strides across the large room.

“What? You said you didn’t want to walk naked.”

“This isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

He laughs, and regardless of my current embarrassment, the genuine unguarded sound coming from him, a sound I couldn’t have imagined hearing when I first started working for him, has my heart more than fluttering. It’s free-falling.

Whatever happens between us, I’ll never regret hearing Roman King laugh like that.