Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
W hat was it about honorable men that made her blood boil? On paper, Joel was perfect. Rich, powerful, competent, among many other things. He held a silent gravity that everyone respected and was drawn to.
But there’d been a cost. Perfection was his biggest flaw, and he’d created a lonely world for himself. He was always thinking of what was best for others, living his life making sure everyone else was happy.
Once upon a time she’d cracked that veneer, seen him take what he wanted and needed. Then it vanished almost as quickly as it came, and he’d gone back to being the immaculate version of himself. The version that couldn’t hurt anybody.
The fool was too honorable for his own good. He’d totally killed her buzz. Why did he have to send a car for her, or wait up, wearing those stupid sexy glasses, no less? How dare he turn her on when she was mad at him. It was infuriating.
Damn his moral compass. If he could only see her now rummaging through her suitcase for the vibrator she’d packed. Fricking glasses. Fricking jaw flex. Fricking gorgeous, reasonable man.
The silicone vibrator was tucked discreetly in an inside pocket, a trusted travel companion. Using it didn’t usually result in anything dramatic, but the way her lust raced through her now, like a firecracker ready to go off, she wondered if she should find a way to gag herself to keep from screaming.
She moved to the mirrored dresser. Maybe there was a tie or something she could use. But when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she faltered. Hours later, the magic Brit, Nat, Vanessa, and the crew at the salon had worked was still breathtaking—even to her self-critical eyes. The dress her sister let her borrow, the hair, the make-up, the desire heightening the color on her cheekbones.
She ran her fingers across her breasts, enjoying the contrast of her soft flesh and firm nipples that pebbled under her touch. Her sister was several sizes smaller than her, so this dress was tight in all the right places. She wasn’t without body image issues, but overall, she loved the way she looked. Her curves, the olive-colored skin that conveyed her heritage, even the ample curve of her behind. For years society had been telling her that she should lose at least ten pounds, but she learned from her sister that meeting those expectations came at a high cost and few of the rewards it promised. So she took her ten extra pounds and enjoyed them.
She slipped her finger under her dress’s thin shoulder strap. The lingering warmth of alcohol and unsated lust made her bold. With zero shame, she let the strap fall off her shoulder, so the neckline lowered, exposing her areola. Her over-sensitized skin ached with need. She’d had enough of suffering. If Joel wouldn’t give her what she wanted, she’d give it to herself.
Flicking on the vibrator, she rolled her nipple through the fabric of her dress with her left hand, while slipping the vibrator under the hem with her right. When the humming silicone met her wet flesh, she inhaled sharply. God, it felt so good to be touched, even by her own hand.
She was so wired she knew she wouldn’t last long, especially as she took in the sight of herself. Masturbating in front of a mirror when you looked like a goddess was sexy as fuck. Ten out of ten recommended.
“Ahh!” Her moan rang long and loudly through the empty room. Her pulsing need built to a fever pitch, electric waves of pleasure coursing down her legs. She wished it was Joel touching her, pinching her nipples just short of discomfort like he’d used to do, bringing her to the edge of agony but never quite over it.
Closing her eyes, she imagined it was his body giving her pleasure, his demanding, dominant sex-god persona taking over both of them in the bedroom. Oh, the bliss he’d shown her. The heights he’d taken her too. What she wouldn’t give to have him doing that to her now. Who cared if she was mad at him? She still wanted him to fuck her into oblivion.
As her breath caught in the telltale mark of her crescendo rising to its peak, a thump on the door broke her concentration.
“Lucy!” The voice on the other side was gruff and strained. “Dammit. I know what you’re fucking doing. I can hear you.”
With a wicked smile curling her lips, she pressed the vibrator deeper between her legs, her inner demon coming out to play. Maybe he wasn’t so honorable, and she wasn’t the good girl everyone wanted her to be.
Pouting, she watched herself in the mirror. “Go away, Joel,” she whined. “I’m not in the mood to play games, not when I’m this close.”
Another hard thump hit the door, a single fist banging the frame. Or maybe it was his head. Who knew?
“Dammit, Lucy. What are you doing to me?”
Tasting victory in his defeat, she couldn’t help but smile. “Come in and find out. No one is stopping you.”
Silence. She knew he was running every possible scenario through his head. The pros and cons of each. What he should do, what he wanted to do, and what he was going to do. The consequences of everything. That was how Joel’s mind worked. Nothing he did was without endless reasoning. Which was why it hurt so much when he’d left, because for whatever reason, he’d considered being away from her the best course of action.
The silence stretched so long, and the throb between her legs increased with every passing beat. God, she was close. But she needed more.
Open the door and come to me , she silently begged. She couldn’t hold off much longer, and she whimpered loudly as the ache grew.
The door flew open. Her gaze snapped to his, and if she could have freeze-framed the look on his face as he took her in, she would have. The tick in his tight jaw, the burn in his eyes, the heat she could almost see radiating off his body. What a picture he made. His powerful body tensed with need.
His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply. “Did you think I was going to chill on the couch and scroll Netflix to the sounds of you fucking yourself in the bedroom? ”
When she smiled, his frown deepened.
“You did this on purpose.”
“I didn’t do anything on purpose except try to take the edge off of this…lingering energy I have. If my husband can’t satisfy my needs, what else am I supposed to do?”
He stalked over to her, his long legs easily eating the distance, and even though she could never fear him, a thrill shivered through her. His intensity filled the room. His fists clenched at his sides, his silver gaze fixed and determined. He was hungry, after all.
He stopped behind her, his body close enough that his heat surrounded her, but not so close that they were touching. The vibrator continued to make a low buzzing sound. She met his gaze in the mirror. After a moment of scrutiny, he shoved his hands in his pockets and cocked his head to the side, calculating. The boss was back in control.
What was he going to do? His casual perusal of her body, like she was a piece of artwork that he was considering investing in, was turning her on to a breaking point.
When his gaze had ravished her body multiple times over, he met her eyes in the reflection. “Take the other strap off.”
She remembered that tone from years ago when they’d been together this way. The gears had shifted, and Joel was in control now, but the satisfaction was all hers.
Slowly, like a languid lioness, she trailed her finger up her arm, enjoying the tickle as she took her time making her way to the strap. When she got there, she kept her eyes fixed on his, as she dragged the thin ribbon down her shoulder. It fell to her elbow, pulling the material down with it. Her breasts were decent-sized, big and swollen enough to keep the material from falling all the way down. She was exposed, but not naked, her nipples peeking out of the thin fabric, desperate to make an appearance.
“Touch them. They’re aching for it. I can see it from here.”
That was absolutely accurate. They were aching, but not for her touch.
“You touch them,” she whispered, her voice so thick and raspy she wasn’t sure he’d understand her.
“Luciana.” The single word, a warning that carried a threat and a promise.
She’d challenged him in the bedroom before, and he’d punished her for it, but never in a way that truly hurt. Joel Morgan’s brand of punishment was one she’d take any day of the week. But she knew the pleasure would be greater tonight if she played it his way, so she clamped her fingers around the swollen peak of her nipple. Her inhale was sharp as the bite of ecstasy shot to her throbbing core.
“Run the vibrator over your other nipple,” he commanded, and she complied.
The vibrator buzzed along her skin, flicking the material entirely off her breast. She let the bullet purr over the distended bud, massaging her breast as it moved. Any second now, she’d start panting.
“You’re beautiful. You see it, don’t you?” Stepping closer so his chest brushed her back, Joel lifted half of her hair over her shoulder. “See it and tell me.”
She stared at her reflection. She hardly recognized this wanton version of herself, uninhibited, in killer heels, loosely curled hair, and smoking lipstick, with a vibrator massaging her breast—she felt fan-fucking-tastic.
“I see it,” she panted. “I’m beautiful.” All flushed skin, swollen lips, eyes glazed over with desire, breasts full and heavy .
“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured against her ear, and he might as well have licked her clit for all the pleasure his voice sent there. “Move the vibrator under your dress, Lucy. Let it touch where you need it.”
“I need you!” she cried, her voice thick with desperation. She wanted to chuck the damned vibrator out the window and replace it with his hands, his body. The need to feel the weight of him on her, in her, was so great she was ready to do anything for it.
“Put the vibrator on your clit,” he told her, his voice rasping against her ear. “Rub it there until you come. I won’t touch you until you do.” His voice had taken on the sharp edge of demand and she knew he meant what he said.
So she did as instructed. The second the vibrator hit her most sensitive aching flesh, her knees gave.
“Joel!” She gasped as the intensity of sensation rolled over her. Her legs buckled, and she started to fall, but Joel caught her under her breasts, easing them both down to the floor on their knees, his straddling hers, his chest pressed firmly against her back. Deftly, he moved his hand over hers, then lower, sinking two fingers into her and pumping them in a forward motion, his palm pressing the vibrator harder against her flesh.
She orgasmed on a scream of relief so loud the patrons at Bowie’s probably heard it, but she didn’t care. In ecstasy, her head fell back onto his shoulder, her body clenching and convulsing. Her sweet relief was so acute it was nearly painful. Her shout melted into moans, and she sagged against him, gasping. One strong arm was still banded around her torso, while the hand that had just been inside her, skimmed up her chest before looping loosely around her neck.
He gently tilted her head to the side so his mouth brushed her ear. “Your husband satisfies your needs every time. Remember that.”
Nothing and no one had ever made her feel this limp and relaxed. She was certain the tension emanating from Joel’s body was the only thing holding her upright. The entire muscled wall of his chest flexed against her back with every hard breath he took. She shifted slightly, taking some pressure off her knees and when she did, there was no mistaking the iron hard length of him poking her back.
Joel’s raging erection was climbing her spine, and as her own world cleared, a smile found its way to her lips. Because now it was her turn to play.