Chapter 22
F or the last twenty years, since I came to realize what the world surrounding me consisted of and what limited capability it held for wanting to chase my own destiny and free will, this has been my reality.
Always thinking of the consequences of my actions.
Never living in a time that’s only in the now.
College. Med school. Resident. Attending. CEO. Marriage to a woman who will look a certain way on my arm and strengthen my position in the world. The world sees us how they want to see us, whether that’s who we are or not.
Other than the doctor part, the rest can go suck it.
I am the most secretive with my life and who I am because I have the most to lose.
It’s why I like being alone or only with my family. Or why I love sailing so much. It affords me that freedom. Freedom from the expectations surrounding me. Freedom from what the world sees and demands of me.
But Bunny knows me. The things I’ve told her, the pieces of myself I’ve shared…
And Bianca doesn’t care about all the rest. She never did.
She’s only wanted me as myself.
Bianca’s almond eyes stare desperately into mine and I nearly want to laugh at her adorable little innocent, owl-eye thing she has going. She believes she’s asking for a lot when it’s actually so much less than I want to give. Her. No one else because what the fuck just happened tonight?
Bianca is Bunny?
My insides are screaming, YES! We knew it. She’s ours.
While my head is still trying to play catch up. When I went into the restaurant, I made a quick call to Morgan Fairchild about the threat Bianca’s cousin made. I don’t care if Bianca says her mother and aunt are handling it. That’s not nearly good enough for me.
So yeah, it’s been a night.
Dealing with an unstable woman attempting to blackmail me and then discovering Bianca’s true identity. Or more like Bunny’s true identity.
Part of me still believes this should be wrong, but she’s not a child anymore.
She’s the woman I saw by that poolside. The one who robbed me of my heart at first sight.
That distant notion of Bunny has held me captive since that day.
Made it easier to hide away from the world and women because it was like since I’ll never have her, I don’t have to want anyone else. But Bunny is here.
Only she’s better.
She’s the woman I haven’t been able to rid my mind of for a second over the last few weeks. The one who fights me and doesn’t give a fuck.
Bianca is everything I have been missing without knowing I didn’t hate all this time.
She wasn’t wrong when she said I like pain.
I do like it. I like inflicting it and I like receiving it as long as it’s on my terms. Only it’s a game I never play.
When you don’t trust your lovers, despite the legal documents you make them sign, you don’t open up often.
One whisper. One suggestion. My life is so very public.
I treat children. My family is royalty. My face is everywhere.
But I know her. I trust her.
So the idea of being able to play rough with this woman?
My cock is already throbbing.
“You can trust me with anything,” she pushes out, almost indignantly. I hurt her with that question just as I hurt her by walking away all those years ago. I have a lot to atone for with that.
“Thought so.”
Without another word, I stand, scoop her up into my arms, and drop her on the counter.
I stare into her eyes, marveling at how sweet and innocently corruptible she looks.
Those pretty doe eyes filled with a burning she can’t help but show, while still being the slightest bit nervous.
The uneven cant of her breaths giving her away as I find her hips and scoot her to the edge, forcing her legs to wrap around me.
Inching in, I move left, grinning at how her lips follow only to deke her out and fly right, landing on the soft, fragrant skin just beneath her neck. She giggles and I smile into her, nipping and licking at her.
“I wanted to taste your mouth so badly the other night,” I tell her, blowing cool air on her hot, wet flesh.
“You didn’t,” she moans, her head falling back, her hands in my hair as I suck on her. So sensitive, and god, I love everything about this with her. I want to take my time exploring every nuance, nerve, and sweet breath she has to give me. That thought gives me a moment of pause.
Has it ever been like this for me before?
“I don’t normally like kissing a lot.” I pull back and find her half-mast eyes.
“You just haven’t kissed the right girl then.”
She has no idea.
Thirty-six years until it all came together at the right time and the right moment.
Diving in, I capture her lips, those soft fucking pillows of sugar, feeling her hot breath against me, sucking me in. My reaction is instant. A stick of dynamite whose fuse has run out. I explode, unable to stop my response to her. Her taste, her smell, the feel of her surrounding me. Her .
My hands fly into her hair, and I drag her as tightly as I can against me, her large, soft tits squishing against my chest. A rumbling groan vibrates from deep in my throat and I thrust forward into the apex of her thighs, the heavenly spot I’m desperate to be buried.
Far from the innocent bunny, Bianca tilts her head, her tongue voraciously seeking mine as she grasps at my back, her nails digging into my flesh, holding me against her. Our tongues thrash, passion and frenzy taking over as I rip her blouse up and over her head, my shirt following.
My hands find her breasts and I pry myself away from her delectable mouth, anxious to see what I was denied viewing the other night.
I suck in a shaky breath. They’re even more beautiful than I imagined.
Reaching behind her, I undo the clasp of her bra, my lips kissing along her shoulder.
Once it’s undone, my teeth drag one shoulder strap down and then the other until the satiny fabric falls away, joining the pile of our shirts on the floor.
Bianca likes sexy lingerie, which is no surprise given her penchant for pretty clothes and shoes. I love that about her. It drives me wild, and I tell her that as I cup her breasts that more than fill up my hands, tipped with perfectly proportioned pink nipples.
I roll my thumbs around them, brushing back and forth over her hard peaks before diving down and sucking one deep into my mouth. She tastes like honey and sugar and sunshine and the sounds she makes drive me absolutely insane. Especially when she does this…
“Kaplan. Oh god, Kaplan.”
That. That is everything.
I’ve had women fake sounds. Give me what they think I want to hear. Put on Oscar-worthy performances. But not Bianca. There is no artifice with this woman. She is real and she is mine. “I’m going to make you see stars tonight.”
I want to take her upstairs. Spread her out on my bed and devour her on every surface. But I can’t stop kissing her. I can’t stop touching her breasts. I can’t stop myself from laying her back on the cold stone that makes her back arch and her body shiver while I drag my tongue down her soft belly.
She whimpers and sighs, shaking and trembling as my hands hit her pants, annoyed that she’s not wearing a dress or a skirt that my face could already be under.
Undoing the button and zipper, I slide them down her legs, catching a peek at her pale-purple panties that match her bra and then those go too.
“Kaplan!”
The urgency in her voice has me glancing up. She’s propped up on her elbows, her teeth chewing furiously on her bottom lip as she stares at me with something I can’t quite figure out.
“What is it? Am I hurting you?” I haven’t even touched her yet.
“No. It’s. Um. Maybe this would be better to do upstairs in your room.
You know, where it’s a little darker. More intimate,” she throws out when she notices I’m starting to glare.
And once again, I want to kill her fucking ex-fiancé and mother.
And likely her cousin too. And a society that places so much pressure on a woman’s body.
She tries to cover herself, but I smack her hand away. No fucking way.
I take a step back and gaze at her, completely naked and glorious perched on my counter.
The spill of her dark hair all around her.
Her large breasts and smooth stomach leading into rounded hips and thighs.
Her perfect, bare pussy desperate for my mouth and cock.
Then back up to her large, rounded, almond-colored eyes and quivering red lips.
Could she be any more perfect for me?
I force her to sit up while taking her hand and placing it over my aching dick, letting her grip every hard inch of me.
“You feel that?” I growl, clasping her bottom lip in my teeth and dragging it away from hers.
“You feel how turned on I am right now? That’s you doing this to me.
It’s never been like that before for anyone else.
I’m hard as steel for every perfect , beautiful inch of you .
I’ve been drooling over you for weeks now.
You are so insanely sexy to me.” My forehead meets hers.
“You take my breath away, Bianca. You are exactly what I would have created if God gave me the choice.”
She stares down at my chest, her hand that was gripping me sliding up, tickling along my abs and swirling around my ink. “I always liked my curves until, well…”
I cup her face, drawing her eyes back up to mine. “I love your body. I love your curves. You love your curves. What else matters? Trust me as I’m trusting you. Love yourself as I’m loving you.”