Chapter Twenty
CHAPTER TWENTY
Zane
“ W ill you stay?” I murmur against the soft skin of her neck. She feels good. Solid. Sometimes when I think about her, she seems like a dream, but her smile is tangible and the look in her eyes is real. They shine bright, but there’s a shadow over the happiness, like a cloud passing over the sun.
Something is troubling her.
Maybe getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Maybe something else.
I’m painfully aware I don’t know much about Stella. I know what will make her come, but I don’t know her deepest fears or how many secrets she hides.
I want to know all of it.
“I don’t have clothes to spend the night, but I’ll stay for a little bit,” she says, slipping off her shoes.
I saw her this morning, but it feels like it’s been too long. “Are you hungry?” I ask, holding her hand and leading her into the living room. “Lucille made a pork roast.”
Stella blows out a breath. “Yes, thank God. Zarah and I were at the Lyndhurst. We sampled the main course that will be served at your dinner, but I have to admit, I’m not used to the...portion control.”
I laugh. “What are we eating?”
“Beef. Potatoes. Nothing too exciting.”
“Everyone will be more interested in the open bar, I think. You’re right. Everyone is on a liquid diet.”
We go into the kitchen where Lucille is still puttering around despite the late hour—I think she doesn’t want to leave me alone. Her eyes light up when she sees Stella, and she serves us a late dinner and then leaves to go to her suite for the night.
The penthouse is lonely and empty without Lucille and Zarah. I want to ask Stella to move into the penthouse, but I already know she’ll say no. She doesn’t know me, has suspicions and reservations about the kind of life I live, and she’s too independent to give up her apartment.
While we eat, she tells me about the Lyndhurst and how beautiful it is. She doesn’t bring up Zarah very often, and I hope they didn’t have a disagreement. If they did, I bet I know what it was about, and Stella’s right not to mention it to me. I don’t want to fight about Ash any more than she does.
She insists we wash the dishes so a mess doesn’t greet Lucille in the morning. Her thoughtfulness goes beyond manners, and she does more than talk. My mother taught me the value in that. She would say, “Love is a verb, Zane. When you love someone, you have to show them,” and she would. She loved me, Zarah, and Dad, and she was always there for us no matter what. Stella is the same. When she tells me she loves me, I can believe it.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, drying the last plate and storing it in the cabinet.
“Maybe half of one. It’s late, and we have work tomorrow.”
I don’t want her to leave, and it’s better than nothing.
It doesn’t matter what we watch, and on one of the streaming services, I stop at a chick flick. I sit on the sofa, and Stella lays across my legs, using the armrest as a pillow. She cuddles into me, and for the first time since I left her apartment this morning, the anxiety in my chest loosens. I hate I’m so tense when she’s not around.
At work, we’re both too busy to see each other. I haven’t had time to fuck her in my office and bury some of my fear because I’m always dealing with bullshit I shouldn’t have to be dealing with. She’s my stress relief, my hiding place. She’s where I go when I need comfort, security.
I trail my hand up her leg. She’s wearing a garter belt, and my fingers skim the edge of the hose meeting bare skin.
She shivers but doesn’t move her gaze from the TV screen.
I’m getting hard, thinking about touching her, how wet she is, how engorged her clit is when she’s excited. My fingers brush the sensitive area between her legs, the heat and damp permeating from beneath the scant piece of silk.
She shifts, giving me more room, and I slip my fingers under her panties, finding her slick with need.
Stella moans, and my cock surges at the sound.
I push my fingers inside her. She’s swollen and ready, and she turns onto her back and meets my eyes. “Zane.”
“I know, baby. I feel the same way.”
She widens her legs and reaches up to kiss me.
I do, long, slow licks that mimic my fingers moving in and out of her, her hips gently meeting my delicate thrusts.
She twists my tie around her hand and tugs me closer. I’ve never been so turned on.
“Zane,” she cries under my mouth, and I move my fingertips to caress her clit. She lifts her hips, pushing into my hand to increase the pressure.
Devouring my mouth, she tells me how desperate she is to come. She’s close, and I rub furiously, wanting her to explode in my arms. The orgasm rushes through her, and her heels dig into the sofa. She presses her lips so hard to mine, our teeth gnash together.
I swallow her cries as her clit trembles under my fingers.
Panting, she quiets, lowering her hips to the cushion. “That was so good.”
I rub her nose with mine. “I’m glad. You’re so beautiful, Stella. All I want to do is please you.”
“You don’t have to do anything more than what you’re doing.”
She doesn’t know what a gift that is. Everyone wants a piece of me. Denton and Cramer, Ash. The paparazzi. I give and give and all they want is to take until I’m hollow inside, and a cavity fills my chest where my heart should be.
Stella has started to fill that space, and I’m indebted to her.
She sits up and whispers a soft but playful kiss over my mouth. I try to lean into it, but she climbs off the sofa, a mischievous smile on her lips.
My cock swells. I need her now.
She shimmies, shaking her hips, her hands scrunching her hair, and grinning in anticipation, I burrow into the couch, ready to enjoy myself. In the past, women have stripped for me and offered me lap dances, knowing just what to do that will lead to other things, but I can tell by the blush that creeps across Stella’s cheeks that this is her first time. I’m thrilled she’s never danced for another man, and my hands clench at my sides. I want to touch her, but that’s not part of the game.
She sucks on a finger, and I imagine my cock between her lips, her tongue licking the cum that’s already spurting from the tip.
A naughty glint flashes in her eyes, and she slowly unbuttons her blouse, slides her slender arms out of the sleeves, and flings it at me. I catch it, and she giggles, spinning on the floor. Her stockings give her little resistance, and her pirouette is graceful. She comes to a stop, and her hair settles onto her bare shoulders.
Her bra is champagne lace, and she takes it off, her back to me. She gives me a saucy grin over her shoulder and winks.
She’s good at this, and I adjust my cock. I’m rock solid, and when she’s naked I’m going to fuck her hard. She’s asking for it, teasing me.
Without a bra, her breasts hang heavy, and her nipples are colored a pretty rose. She sees me looking at them, and they harden.
Reaching behind her, she unzips her skirt. It’s tight, and she squirms out of it. She laughs, embarrassed, but I think it’s adorable. Her panties are the same color as the bra she was wearing. All lace and cut high on her hips.
This is my favorite part, and despite her inexperience, Stella doesn’t disappoint. As a backdrop, the TV plays our movie behind her, and she props a foot onto the coffee table. Tilting her head at me, she unsnaps the garter clasps, one by one.
Licking her lips and never breaking eye contact, she rolls the silk down her leg. She throws it at me but the light material flutters through the air and misses its mark, landing on the floor near my foot.
Stella slowly removes the hose from her other leg, and the garter straps skim against her creamy thighs. She’s wearing nothing but the champagne lace garter belt, panties, and a smile.
“Come. Here.” I can’t wait another minute to put my hands on her.
She steps between my legs, and I yank the garter belt down to reach her panties.
“Undo my belt,” I growl, and her eyes widen. I raise my eyebrows, and she relaxes. We’re only playing, but I still have plans to do her hard. She can’t strip in front of me and stand there looking like that without knowing there will be consequences.
Stella unbuckles my belt and unbuttons my pants. She eases a hand inside my briefs, and I take a deep breath to keep myself in control.
It’s crazy what this woman does to me.
I stand to undress and drop my clothes onto the floor, and I push her onto her knees on the couch. I love looking at her from behind, and she’s glistening, her cum slicking the insides of her thighs. Gliding my fingers inside her, I want to make sure she’s still wet and ready for me.
She is.
I grab a condom out of my wallet. It’s tempting to do her without, but I need to protect her. She trusts me to keep her safe, and I can’t disappoint her. There’s too much at stake.
I’m fully covered and I nudge the tip of my cock into her slit. She tenses for a moment, and I brush my fingers down her back, assuring her I won’t hurt her. I push inside her, and I’m amazed I don’t blow my load. It takes extreme care not to come, and I slowly slide in and out of her. I find my control, and grabbing her hips, I increase my tempo.
She mews with every thrust, and her little noises spur me on. I press my thumb to the delicate place between her ass cheeks, and she relents, leaning forward, moaning. There’s something about Stella that compels me to touch her in whatever intimate way I can, and that she’ll allow.
My sac slaps against her skin, and a ball of heat forms in my groin. I’m about to come, and I’m not going to be able to hold back much longer.
“Stella,” I cry, and I ram my cock inside her so ferociously she sobs my name, gripping the back of the sofa. I come hard. My cock needs several moments to empty completely and several more until it stops twitching inside her.
My knees shake, and I rest my hand on the delicate curve of her lower back, sucking in a much-needed breath. She’s pushing her face into the soft material, and it muffles her whimpers.
“Did I hurt you?” I don’t see how I couldn’t have. I lost every shred of my control.
“No. I just need a minute.” She looks at me over her shoulder and tries to smile.
I lean over and press my lips to her tattoo. “I’m going to pull out now. I don’t want to hurt you more, but I probably will.”
“It’s okay,” she says, but her voice wavers.
My cock has barely gone down. That’s what Stella does to me. I’m in a constant state of arousal whenever I’m around her.
Holding onto the edge of the condom to keep it from sliding off inside her, I pull out, and she hisses a painful breath. The sound travels down my spine, and I wince. I dispose of the full condom in the bathroom and rush back into the living room. She’s still kneeling on the couch, and I wrap her in a decorative throw. I don’t want her to get cold. I sit and lift her onto my lap. I turn off the TV, too, because we’re not watching it anymore, and I nuzzle my lips against her temple.
She turns her head, and her lips meet mine, soft and tender. My need drained her, and she’s languid in my arms. She breaks the kiss, wraps the blanket closer around her, and rests her head on my shoulder. I wish she would spend the night. I wish she would move some clothes here, giving her the option. I’d carry her to bed and pass out. I’m dead tired.
“Zarah and Ash are engaged. Did you know?” Her breath fans my neck as she speaks.
I sigh. I don’t want to argue. The evening has been pleasant, and I don’t want it to end in a fight.
Dipping my hand into the blanket, I trace the curve of her lush breast with my thumb. “Yeah. Ash asked my permission. I don’t see how I could have said no. He would have asked her anyway.”
She pushes into my hand, and gently, I squeeze. “He threatened me,” she says.
I still. “When?”
“Today. He was at the Lyndhurst to pick her up, and he told me he thinks I’m after your money.”
Her skin is so soft, and her nipple feels like I’m smoothing my fingers over satin. I wish I could enjoy her instead of having this conversation. When you look for something to dislike about someone, you’re always going to find it. I’ve known Stella barely a week, and I’m already tired of having talks like this. I try once more to reassure her that it doesn’t matter to me what Ash thinks of her.
“Stella.” I meet her eyes. “I don’t want to fight about Ash. I don’t want to lose you because of what he thinks. I know you don’t care about my money. Do you know how I know?”
She shakes her head, her blue eyes huge in her face. So vulnerable. So beautiful. My Stella.
“Because you haven’t asked for any. You haven’t asked me to pay your rent, or move you into a nicer place, or buy you a car.”
“My clothes—”
“Are for work, for a position I practically forced you to take. I have never met a more honest and undemanding woman than you. The only thing you’ve asked for, you already have. Do you know what that is?”
Again, she shakes her head.
“My heart. It’s the only thing you’ve wanted from me, and because of that, I want to give you the world. When you’re ready to let me.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, sex and sweat scenting her skin. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do, baby, and I love you, too. More than I can put into words. Don’t worry about Zarah. Be happy for her. Ash is a good guy. I know you don’t believe it, but he’s only shown you one side of himself. We grew up together and my father and his were best friends. Cut him a little slack. For me. Okay?”
“Okay, but I don’t trust him.”
I brush my lips over hers. “I know. Maybe one day you will.”
She smiles ruefully, rubbing her fingers over my whiskers. “That’s doubtful.”
We’re at an impasse, and I change the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll have Douglas bring you home. I don’t want you riding the train this late.”
“Thank you.”
We cuddle a bit longer. I don’t want to say goodbye, though I’ll see her at the office in less than twelve hours. I love how she’s a part of my whole life.
In a soft voice barely louder than a whisper, she tells me about meeting Mina and apologizes for jumping to conclusions about my friends. This warms my heart. It’s rare a person can admit they were wrong, and apologize for it, too.
Holding her lithe body in my arms, I try to explain to her what’s been forming in my heart since Ash asked for Zarah’s hand.
“Stella.” I caress her breast, unable to get enough. “I’d like to think our relationship will keep moving forward. Zarah’s too young to be married. Ash knows that, but they’ve also known each other their entire lives. They have a history that will carry into their future. Do you understand?”
She nods but casts her gaze to the floor.
“I want what Ash has.” I turn her head to make her look at me. “One day. With you.”
Her eyes widen and fill with tears.
“We don’t have that history, so we need to go slowly, but I wanted to let you know where my thoughts are heading. You can tell me if maybe you feel the same or if you think we’re going too fast.”
She starts to cry, and I hold her close, a hand to the back of her head.
The penthouse is silent, and the lights of the city splay beneath us.
The world at our feet.
I am the heir to the throne of King’s Crossing, and I just asked Stella to be my queen. When the time is right, we’ll rule this city.
“I hope that’s a yes,” I murmur against her hair.
She lifts her head and wipes her cheeks. “Yeah, it is.”
I blow out a sigh. “Good. I won’t rush you, I promise, but I need you by my side more than you can possibly imagine. You have to promise you’ll never leave me.”
Launching herself against my chest, she whispers, “I promise. I love you so much.”
“I’ll try to respect your space, but it hurts to be away from you.”
“I know what you mean, but—”
“It’s good for us. I know. I need to learn to be comfortable alone. Zarah moved in with Ash, and my parents haven’t been gone a year. I have some adjusting to do.”
She rubs her lips over mine. “I’ll keep a toothbrush here. Someone told me it doesn’t take long to get to work.”
“The commute is a snap.” Pleased she gave in, even if it was only halfway, I’m cheesy and snap my fingers.
She laughs.
“Come on. You better get home.” Reluctantly, I help her dress, and holding her hand, I go down to the lobby with her. I nod at the lone security guard who’s sitting on a stool reading the paper and nudge her through the revolving doors first. Douglas is standing by a car that’s parked at the curb. Traffic fills the street, and music carries to us from an open window blocks away. “Ask Douglas if you want a ride in the morning. I don’t want to force you to take anything I have, but I do want your life to be easier because I love you. Okay?”
The late evening breeze blows gently through her hair. She reaches to her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. It rattles me just as much as if she would have given me a big French kiss. “Okay. Thank you. Goodnight, Zane.”
I help her down the concrete stairs and hand her off to Douglas. He opens the door for her. “Be careful, Stella. You carry my heart. Let me know she’s home safely,” I ask him.
He nods.
I stay on sidewalk until I can’t see the car’s taillights anymore.
Upstairs, I grab a beer and finish watching our stupid movie.
Holding the blanket up to my nose, I breathe in the scent of our lovemaking.
I go to bed hard, but the ache in my chest is gone.
Denton and Cramer ease up on me, and by Friday, my only worry is the speech I’m going to give at the press conference. Zarah, bless her, contacted the writer my dad used, and Stella announces his arrival at two in the afternoon.
If I had bothered to check my schedule, I would have seen Stella blocked off the rest of the day for this, and I’m once again in her debt for knowing what I need. Zarah arranged an intimate dinner tonight inviting close friends of our parents we haven’t seen since the funeral, and drudging up the energy and courage to go will be just as difficult as seeing them again. A couple of hours to myself will be a godsend.
Nigel and his wife will fly in late tonight. He said he would be at the press conference tomorrow afternoon, and his presence, along with the stellar speech, makes me feel, well, at least I no longer feel like my life is unraveling at the seams.
The writer did a phenomenal job, and I’m pleased. I shake his hand and show him out while he congratulates me. To me, it’s not a celebration as much as it feels like I’m facing my execution, but I can’t think of it that way. I’m finally accepting my father’s legacy, and I want to turn the dreams he had for our company into a reality.
Stella’s gone. She and Zarah are at the Lyndhurst checking that things are going as well as they should be, and the office exudes an emptiness I don’t like. Our talk put us on a new playing field, and I feel extremely close to her. I know she’ll have my back. I saw it in my parents, in the way my mother supported my dad, and I believe Stella will be the kind of woman I need, too. Behind every strong man is a stronger woman.
I dress for dinner later that evening, and Stella is by my side where she belongs. She looks radiant in a column of gold and matching stilettos, and her hair is a long curtain of fuck-me curls down her bare back.
I’m ready first and sip on a drink in the living room. Standing in my tux that I’m already tired of wearing, I wait for her to finish putting on her makeup in the upstairs bathroom. I pat my pocket and blow out an uneasy breath. I’ve never given a woman this kind of gift before and I’m nervous as hell, but there’s no doubt in my mind she’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.
I said I wouldn’t rush her, but I need to brand her, and with more than just my cock.
She appears at the top of the stairs, and the breath knocks out of my lungs.
“Stella? Can I talk to you for a second?” My voice trembles.
Her steps falter. She thinks I have bad news every time I want to talk. Her life hasn’t been easy, and she’s been conditioned to expect the worst. I feel horrible whenever it happens, and I vow to make her life better starting tonight. Starting now with the box in my pocket.
She walks carefully down the stairs, her fingers gripping the railing so hard her knuckles turn white.
We settle on the sofa where we made love. Well, that’s not completely accurate. Where I fucked her brains out. If she’s in control, our lovemaking is softer somehow. She brings out a hunger I can’t rein in when she lets me have the lead.
I pull the small velvet box out of my pocket, and she gasps and grabs at her throat. “I know we said we’d take it slow, and we will, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a present, does it?”
“But I don’t have—”
“That’s okay. I don’t need you to buy me anything.” I shake her shoulders. “Breathe.”
She flutters her hand in front of her face and laughs. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I flip the box lid open and reveal a ring I picked out yesterday morning. I asked my family’s jeweler to bring a small selection up to the office, and the store’s manager walked right by Stella’s desk, the briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.
She never noticed.
The delicate diamond is secured on a thin, gold band. Small. Understated. Classic.
“This isn’t an engagement ring. Think of it as me promising you many years of happiness to come.” I slide it onto the ring finger of her right hand and it’s a perfect fit.
“Oh, God. Zane, it’s gorgeous.”
“Not as beautiful as you are.” I know the line’s silly, but it’s true, and I can’t help but say it. Nothing will ever compare to Stella’s loveliness—inside and out. “Let’s go knock ’em dead, huh?” I ask, helping her off the sofa.
She throws herself at me. “I love you. No matter what.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
We step out of the building as my parents did hundreds of times. It’s eerie how much I feel like my dad having Stella on my arm.
Maddox Industries is mine now.
I hold Stella’s hand, our fingers tangled together. It’s time to announce it to the world.