Chapter 1 #3
Once we’re inside, he goes about taking off his suit jacket, laying it over the dining room chair. The country club only has a couple dozen rooms, but the one he’s staying in is on the nicer side with a full kitchen and living room.
“Have you been here for long?” I ask, noticing that the place is bare of any personal belongings.
“A couple of weeks,” he says, stalking toward me.
“Why are you—”
“Enough talking.”
He takes my face in his hands and crashes his mouth down on mine. His tongue slides between my parted lips, and he tastes like whiskey and determination.
His hands glide down my ass cheeks, and he hoists me into his arms, carrying me into the room, where he drops me onto the center of the bed.
“Take off your clothes,” he demands.
And every hope I had about this man is shattered. He wants to dominate in the bedroom, which is what most women would want. A man who is determined to make her come. And it’s what I should want, but it’s not what I need.
I do as he said because we’re already here, so I might as well try. But I already know I won’t be coming once, let alone twice, tonight.
Once my clothes are off, he spreads my legs and dives right in with gusto. He has no problem finding my clit, but I’ve already lost the desire for an orgasm.
He licks and sucks, and I get lost in my head, wondering if this is how it’s always going to be. I always blame the men, but the truth is, I’m the one with the issues.
After a few minutes—or maybe longer—I notice the licking has stopped, and when I glance down, I find Kane staring up at me.
Was I lost in my head so long that I was already supposed to fake my orgasm?
Well, shit!
“That was so good,” I lie, sitting up. “Your turn?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” He leans back and glares at me.
“I said it was good …”
“What was good? You didn’t make a fucking sound, and when I stopped touching you for over a minute, you didn’t even notice.”
Oops.
“Sorry, but, um, it was good.”
I reach for his belt buckle, but he moves out of my grasp and stands.
“What is this? Some kind of game you play? You were bitching about not orgasming, yet you checked out before even giving me a chance.”
I stare at him for several seconds. I faked my orgasms with Theo every single time, but he never once noticed.
“I’m not playing any games,” I tell him, sliding off the bed and grabbing my clothes from the floor. “It’s not my fault the male species is so busy banging their fists against their chest that they don’t take the time to listen to what a woman needs.”
Before I can get my dress on, he snatches it from my hands and grabs my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him.
“Tell me what you need.”
I take a step back, trying to figure out how to answer his question. I told Theo so many times what I wanted, but is that the same as what I need?
My thoughts go back to earlier tonight with Theo. Where everything once again started to go wrong. He was in control of our pleasure while I had none.
I tried to tell him what I wanted—please, harder!—but he wouldn’t listen.
“I need to be in control,” I blurt out.
“You need to be in control?” he parrots. “Okay. Then you’re in control.”
“Just like that?” I scoff, taken aback by his simple response.
“Just like that.”
I search his face for a hint of insincerity, but don’t find any.
And then we stand here for several seconds—maybe minutes—while he waits for me to do something, say something. I start to freak out because I don’t know what to do or say. I might crave the control, but I’ve never actually had it.
I would ask Theo to do things, and when he refused, I’d either fake an orgasm or throw a fit.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, my nose and eyes burning.
This guy must think I’m nuts.
“I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
I start to head for the bathroom so I can get dressed without him seeing me lose my shit, but he stops me once again.
“You said you wanted to be in control. What does that look like?”
“I don’t know. I’ve … I’ve never actually been in control. I just know I need it.”
It’s more than a need. I crave it, desire it. So much so that when Theo took charge in the bedroom, I’d instantly retreat, and I couldn’t get out of my head, to the point where I couldn’t find my release.
He stares at me for several seconds, then nods in understanding and retreats. “Get dressed.”
My heart sinks. A part of me was hoping maybe he would be different. But I can’t blame him. I’m a broken mess, and this guy doesn’t owe me anything. He was looking for an easy fuck, and instead, he got a complicated one.
I grab my clothes and disappear into the bathroom to quickly get redressed.
Not caring what my face or hair looks like, I head back out to the bedroom so I can grab my heels and purse and get out of here.
Only when I step out of the bathroom, I find Kane lying on the bed in nothing but boxer briefs.
“All right, Princess, you have me. Now, what are you going to do to me?”
“Princess?” I quirk a brow, unimpressed by his cliché nickname for me.
“Yeah, you’re like the princess in those storybooks,” he explains. “The blonde one who’s hidden in the castle with the drawbridge up and no way for anyone to get to her.”
If only he knew how accurate his statement was.
Usually, I have a guard, Daniil, who shadows me everywhere I go, thanks to the dangerous life my brothers live.
But I’ve worked out a deal with Daniil, and when I go out, he follows behind in a separate car, and he never reports back to my brothers anything I do—not that I’ve been doing much since I returned to Harbor Point.
My life literally consists of spending time with my family, hanging out with Nicole, and taking classes at the local Pilates studio.
“Now, are you going to take control or what?”
Kane spreads his arms wide, and my attention goes to his muscular biceps and forearms. Further down, his chest is chiseled, his skin tan and clean—not a tattoo in sight. I count six abs and notice a thick bulge in his boxer briefs.
“Hey, Princess, you going to stand there, eye-fucking me, or are you going to do something?” He smirks devilishly.
“If I’m in control, then you shouldn’t be asking questions.”
“Of course I should,” he volleys. “Communication is the key. If you had communicated that you needed to be in control, you would’ve saved us a lot of time that could’ve been spent with me making you scream my name.”
I don’t argue because he’s not wrong, but in my defense, until he asked what I needed, I hadn’t pinpointed what the problem was. And honestly, Theo never would’ve been okay with me taking control.
“Now, tell me, what do you want from me?”