20. Clive
Clive
A s we drive through the city lights, Becca rests her head on my shoulder. I kiss her hair, breathing in the scent of her floral and delicate shampoo.
"Thank you for believing in me," I murmur.
She lifts her head, confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"For giving me a chance to explain. For not letting Jack's lies come between us."
"I know who you are, Clive." Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. Her gentle touch almost undoes me. "The real you, not the version Jack tried to sell me."
The car slows as we approach my building, the lobby lights spilling onto the sidewalk. For a moment, I'm struck by how right this feels—Becca by my side, heading home.
The doorman nods respectfully as we enter, and I guide Becca toward the private elevator with my hand still at the small of her back. We stand close in the mirrored compartment, our reflections multiplied around us. She looks up at me, vulnerability and desire mingling in her dark eyes.
"What are you thinking?" I ask softly.
"That I've never felt so certain and terrified at the same time," she admits.
The elevator doors slide open directly into my penthouse foyer. I've always appreciated the view—Manhattan sprawling beneath us, lights twinkling like earthbound stars—but tonight, I can barely tear my eyes from Becca as she steps into the space.
"Would you like a nightcap?" I ask, shrugging off my jacket.
"No." She turns to face me, and the determination in her expression takes my breath away. "I want you."
Three simple words, but they ignite something primal within me. I close the distance between us, cupping Becca's face in my hands.
"Are you sure?" I need to hear it. I need to know she's here because she wants to be, not because of some reaction to Jack's lies or manipulation.
"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispers.
I kiss her then, pouring every unspoken feeling into it. Her arms wind around my neck, her body molding against mine like she was made to fit there. I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her toward the bedroom.
"You're beautiful," I murmur, tracing my thumb across her full bottom lip.
Her hands slide up my chest, nimble fingers working at my tie, then my shirt buttons. "So are you," she whispers, pushing the fabric aside to reveal my chest.
I shiver as her cool palms press against my skin, exploring it with curious intensity. When her fingertips brush across my nipples, I can't suppress a groan.
"I've thought about this," she admits, her voice husky. "About you. About us."
"So have I," I confess, lowering my head to kiss the sensitive spot below her ear. "More than I should have."
She arches beneath me as I trail kisses down her neck, my hands finding the zipper of her dress. I pause, seeking permission in her eyes. She nods, lifting slightly to help me ease the fabric down her body.
The sight of her in delicate black lace steals my breath. "Christ, Becca."
Her hands return to my chest, pushing my shirt off my shoulders. "Too many clothes," she murmurs.
I stand to remove the rest of my clothing, feeling her eyes on me as I strip down to my boxers. When I return to the bed, she reaches for me eagerly, pulling me down for a tender and hungry kiss.
"I want to take my time with you," I tell her, trailing my fingers along the curve of her waist. "It’s only been two days, but I’m fucking starving for your pussy."
She shivers. "We have all night."
"All night," I agree, unclasping her bra with practiced ease. "And every night after, if you'll have me."
The lace falls away, revealing perfect breasts that fit exactly in my palms. I lower my head, taking one rosy nipple into my mouth, relishing her sharp intake of breath. Her fingers tangle in my hair, holding me close as I lavish attention on first one breast, then the other.
"Clive," she gasps, her hips rising to meet mine.
I slide lower, trailing kisses down her stomach, my hands hooking into the waistband of her panties. I look up, seeking confirmation once more.
"Please," she breathes, lifting her hips. “I need you, Clive.”
I remove the last barrier between us, revealing her completely. For a moment, I simply take her in—the curve of her hips and
"You're perfect," I whisper, settling between her thighs.
I part her gently with my thumbs, revealing slick, pink flesh that makes my mouth water. When I lower my head for the first taste, her back arches off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her lips.
"Oh God," she gasps, fingers clutching the sheets.
I take my time, exploring her with my tongue, learning what makes her tremble, what draws those delicious little moans from her throat. Her taste is intoxicating—sweet and musky and uniquely Becca. I could stay here for hours, worshipping her with my mouth, but her need is growing urgent.
"Clive, please," she begs, hips rocking against my face. "I need more."
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that perfect spot while my tongue circles her clit. Her thighs begin to shake, her breathing growing ragged.
"That's it," I encourage, feeling her tighten around my fingers. "Let go for me, beautiful. I need to hear my girl come."
When she shatters with my name on her lips, her body arching like a bow, hands tangled in my hair. I work her through it gently, easing her down from the peak until she collapses, boneless and panting.
"Come here," she breathes, reaching for me.
I move up her body, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. She moans at the taste of herself on my tongue, her hand sliding around my stiff cock.
"I want to feel you," she whispers against my lips. "All of you."
I kick off my boxers, my erection springing free, heavy and aching. Becca's small hand wraps around me, and I groan at the contact, fighting for control.
Her legs part for me, an invitation I can't resist. I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her wetness.
“This is the last cock you’ll ever have, baby. I won’t share you with anyone.”
"I need you," she answers, wrapping her legs around my waist. “You’re all I need.”
I plunge into her with deliberate slowness, allowing her body to gradually accommodate my presence. The sensation is electrifying, an intense, searing heat wrapping around me, claiming me inch by inch. Her eyes widen, her breath hitching sharply as she momentarily struggles to adjust.
"Is this what you want? Am I who you want?" I pause, needing her certainty.
"No," she shakes her head, fingers digging into my shoulders. "You're just... bigger than I'm used to. Don't stop."
I let out a possessive growl and push the rest of the way in, savoring the way her body yields to me and takes all of me so perfectly. "Fuck, Becca," I breathe against her neck, holding still to let her adjust. "You feel incredible."
Her hands slide up my back, nails lightly scraping my skin. "So do you," she whispers, shifting her hips experimentally.
The slight movement nearly undoes me. I withdraw slowly before sliding back in, establishing a gentle rhythm that has Becca sighing beneath me. Her eyes stay locked with mine, creating an intimacy I've never experienced.
"More," she urges, her legs tightening around my waist.
I oblige, increasing my pace and driving deeper with each thrust. The headboard begins to knock against the wall, but I couldn't care less who hears us. Let the whole building know I'm making love to this woman.
"Is this what you needed?" I ask, my voice rough with desire. "My cock filling you up?"
"Yes," she moans, her head falling back to expose the elegant line of her throat. "God, yes."
I dip my head to suck at her pulse point, leaving my mark on her pale skin. Mine. The thought drives me harder, faster, my control slipping as her inner walls flutter around me.
"Touch yourself," I command softly. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
Her hand slides between our bodies, fingers finding her clit. The sight of her pleasuring herself while I'm inside her nearly pushes me over the edge.
"That's it, beautiful," I encourage, adjusting my angle to hit that spot inside her that makes her gasp. "Show me how good it feels."
Her movements become frantic, her breathing shallow. I can feel her tightening around me, getting closer.
"Clive," she whimpers, her eyes wide and desperate. "I'm going to?—"
"Let go," I urge, driving into her with renewed vigor. "Come for me, Becca. Now."
She shatters with a cry that might be my name, her body clenching around me in waves that pull me deeper. I follow her over the edge, burying myself to the hilt as my release tears through me.
"Becca," I groan, spilling inside her, marking her in the most primitive way.
For several moments, we remain joined, our bodies trembling in the aftermath. I'm careful not to crush Becca with my weight, but I can't bear to separate from her just yet. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, her breath warm against my neck.
"It’s always so good..." she begins, then laughs softly. "Always magnificent."
"I know exactly what you mean," I murmur, tenderly kissing her forehead.
When I finally withdraw, she makes a slight sound of protest that makes me smile. I gather her against my chest, her small body fitting perfectly in my arms. Her head nestles beneath my chin, her breath warm against my chest.
"Stay with me," I whisper into her hair.
"I am staying with you," she murmurs sleepily.
"No, I mean...stay. Move in with me."
She stiffens slightly, then raises her head to look at me. "Clive, we've only been together a week."
"I know how it sounds," I admit, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But I've never been more certain of anything."
Her eyes search mine, looking for doubt or hesitation. She won't find any.
"What about Jack?" she asks. "What about work? What about?—"
I silence her with a gentle kiss. "We'll figure it all out. Together."
She settles back against my chest, her fingers tracing abstract patterns through the hair. "Can I think about it?"
"Of course," I say, though part of me wants to persuade her now to keep her here where I can protect her, love her. "Take all the time you need."
We lie in comfortable silence, her breathing gradually slowing as she drifts toward sleep. I stroke her back, marveling at the softness of her skin, the delicate curve of her spine.
"Clive?" she murmurs, already half-asleep.
"Yes, beautiful?"
"I think I'm falling in love with you."
My heart swells almost painfully in my chest. I press my lips to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent.
"I know I'm in love with you," I whisper.
She smiles against my skin, her body relaxing completely as sleep claims her. I hold her close, protective and possessive, cherishing her weight in my arms.
Outside, Manhattan continues its restless dance of lights and shadows, but here, in this moment, I've found a peace I never knew was possible. We'll weather whatever storms lie ahead—Jack's jealousy, Kay's manipulations, the inevitable gossip—together.
I close my eyes, allowing sleep to pull me under, Becca's warmth anchoring me to this new reality. My last conscious thought is that I would burn down empires to keep her safe, to keep her mine.
And in the morning, I'll begin to prove it.