Chapter 25
25
KYLIE
I shuffle throughout my room, pulling clothes out of my drawers and tossing them over my shoulders. I’m leaving in five minutes to go spend the night at Lincoln’s place, and I’m kind of freaking out.
This is my first sleepover with a man. At least, I assume I’m sleeping over. Do I need sexy pajamas? I don’t really own anything sexy. The closest thing I have is a pair of black cotton pajama pants and a white cotton tank top. I wouldn’t call it sexy as much as flattering on the body. Cotton anything isn’t going to fall under the category of sexy.
“That’s going to have to do,” I mutter to myself and throw it into my weekend bag.
I may be slightly overemotional after walking Ben to his friend’s house. Of course, I insisted on getting the mother’s phone number and dropping him off so I could scope out their place, make sure they seemed like normal people.
It at least eased my worries since I met his friend Jessie’s parents. They were both really nice and live in a great apartment around the block from us. They seemed like good people, but Ben has his cell phone now so he can call me if he wants to leave. I told him to text me the word orange if there’s an emergency. He needed a code word to ask for help.
He thinks I’m losing my mind, but this is the city. You can never be too careful.
Lincoln insisted on sending his town car over to get me, so when I walk out of my apartment building, I see George leaning against the car, waiting for me.
“Hello, Miss Ricci,” he says as he greets me with a smile, then opens the door for me.
“Hi, George. Please, call me Kylie. I feel too old when you greet me like that.”
He chuckles to himself. “Very well, Kylie.”
It feels so strange to be taking a town car without Lincoln. I’m not used to this kind of lifestyle. I even told Lincoln I was perfectly capable of taking the subway, but he nearly lost his mind when I suggested it. He told me I’m never allowed to ride the subway again and that it’s too dangerous for a woman to do alone.
While I appreciate the sentiment, I will kindly tell him to fuck off next time. I’ve lived in the city my entire life, and I take the subway all the time. It’s not something I’m afraid of, nor is it something I will look at as beneath me just because I’ve got a couple more dollars in my bank account.
When I knock on his door after his security knew to let me in immediately, I’m not expecting to be airborne. His arms wrap around me and swing me inside as his lips smash against mine, his kiss singeing through my veins. I drop my bag and swing my legs around his waist, meeting him willingly in his embrace.
He kicks the door closed and walks me farther into the penthouse. “Fuck,” he says in between kisses. “I missed this.”
His words wrap around my heart like a warm blanket. They make me feel cherished in a way I’ve never felt before.
“Me too,” I say as my legs squeeze him.
I feel his dick hardening against my center, and my body begins to move up and down him instinctually.
He groans into my mouth, “I told myself I’d be good until after dinner.”
I can’t help it. It’s been a week, and this is all I’ve thought about.
“That’s what a microwave is for,” I say, then move my tongue against his.
“I like where your head’s at.”
He walks us to his bedroom and throws me onto his bed. I scream with a smile on my face as I hit the comforter. We both shed our clothes quickly, and then he grabs a condom from the drawer and tosses it onto the bed next to me. He crawls on top of me and stops for a moment, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I’m still going to take it slow, but it should hurt a lot less this time,” he says softly.
I smile. “You still managed to make it feel good the first time. I think I can handle it.”
He does take his time. He slides in slowly; the sting is still there but disappears within minutes. I tell him to start to move quicker. We both end up coming apart while our hands grab at one another and our mouths are sealed together.
After we clean up, we go out to his kitchen. We decide to heat up the tray of pasta in the oven. He pours us some wine while we wait for our food to warm back up.
We take our food over to his table, which is near a window that overlooks Central Park. Being at the top of the building of One57 in the penthouse is wild. They call this area Billionaires’ Row. Some of the wealthiest people in the world have their NYC apartments here. And I’m having dinner in the penthouse of one of those buildings.
“It’s so nice to sit here,” he says as he slides back his seat.
The table is white with gold legs and heavy wooden chairs that match it. I take my own seat and run my hand over my armrest.
“Is your seat okay?” he asks me curiously.
“Yeah,” I reply as I lean over to inspect the legs, wondering if there’s the possibility that they are made of real gold. “Just wondering if this chair is worth more than every piece of furniture combined in my apartment.”
“Does my money bother you?” he asks seriously as he takes a bite of his pasta.
“What? No. Of course not,” I reply defensively.
“You don’t have to lie about it. I’d rather you be honest.” A suggestion of annoyance hovers in his eyes.
I exhale a heavy breath. “Fine. It’s not that it bothers me. It’s just so different from my world. It’s hard not to make comparisons.”
“But you don’t look down at me for the money I have?”
I can see in his eyes that this means a lot to him. I know it bothers him that people use him for his money, but I didn’t know his insecurities about it ran deeper than that.
“No, Lincoln, I don’t look down at you. I would never.”
His shoulders seem to relax, but before he takes a bite of his food, he adds, “You know, I give to a lot of charities and help where I can. I’m aware of what I have and my responsibility to help. Many people at work think I’m a dick, but I take my role seriously. We employ over a hundred thousand workers. I’m not just clocking in and clocking out. People’s livelihoods depend on me making sure our company thrives.”
I never thought about it like that. Suddenly, I feel like such a fool.
“That’s a lot for one person to put on their shoulders,” I reply.
I’m at a loss for words. All the times I cursed this man under my breath for being demanding, he was trying to make sure all of us had jobs to come back to for the rest of our careers. I realize how easy it is to judge someone when you don’t know anything about them.
He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. “It’s part of the job. I have my ways of dealing with the pressure.”
“How?” I ask.
“I work out a lot. There’s a nice gym here in my building.” His eyes move down my chest, then to my eyes. “There are other ways.”
I swallow hard. I’m thinking I know the other ways he’s implying. Fucking. I think of the two times we’ve done it, how gentle and slow he’s been for me. But I want to be the release he really wants. I want to be the reason he can barely catch his breath as he pounds harder and harder into me.
After dinner, we clean up our dishes. My phone buzzes in the other room. I scurry into his bedroom, then reach into my purse to stop the timer. I walk into his bathroom, unzip my makeup bag, and pull out my pills, then push the small, round pill out of the foil.
“What’s that?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe.
I place the pill on my tongue and turn on the sink, leaning under the faucet to gather enough water in my mouth to swallow it. “My birth control pill,” I tell him after I swallow and turn off the water.
He studies me for a moment. “Did you just start on them because of us?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ve been on them for a while. Cramps. Although I had to get them through Planned Parenthood because I didn’t have insurance before.”
“I’ve never slept exclusively with someone before,” he admits.
The city lights surround us as we stand on the marble floor, which match the marble beams and countertops. There’s a bathtub sitting on its own right in front of one of the windows. I can imagine what it’s like to take a warm bath while looking out at the view. The shower has tall glass walls and seems like it’s long enough to fit twenty people in it. I bet I could do a cartwheel in there.
“Are you … regretting it?” I ask, not sure why he’s bringing it up.
He steps closer to me. “Of course not. I just thought …” he starts but shakes his head.
“What?”
“No, it’s too soon. I was just curious.”
My lips thin with irritation. “Curious about what ?”
He sighs. “Just … I’ve never done it without a condom. Never been with anyone exclusively, where I would have felt safe enough. Nor have I trusted that any of the women I was with wouldn’t lie.”
Ah, right. The man is worth billions. There are crazy women out there who would lie to trick him and get pregnant. What sits with me the most is that he is telling me he trusts me. I may not be able to give him all the experience and wild sex to help him blow off steam, but I can give him this.
I want to give him this.
“I assume that means you know that you’re clean,” I reply, making sure I keep myself safe.
“I had a physical and got tested at it a couple of months ago. I haven’t slept with anybody since I met you.”
I look over at the massive shower and the city lights behind it, wondering what it would be like to have sex in a shower like this. We’re high enough up, and all the buildings surrounding us are lower, so no one would actually see us, but it would feel kind of voyeuristic.
Instead of overthinking it, I grab the bottom of my shirt and lift it over my head.
“What are you doing?” Lincoln asks as the rich timbre of his voice echoes in the bathroom.
“We didn’t really get a chance to clean up properly after sex. I’m still feeling a little dirty. I think I might take a shower.” I rid myself of the rest of my clothes and walk to the glass door. “Care to join me?”
I open the door and lean in to turn the knob. When I turn around, Lincoln is standing in just his boxers. His dick is pushing against them, obviously already hard.
Instead of waiting for him, I step in and lean my head back under the warm water. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me, standing a couple of feet away.
“What are you doing?” I ask softly.
His hands are clutched at his sides. “I’m not sure what to do.”
I step out of the stream of water and extend my arm. He takes my hand, and I pull him closer to me, his dick now rubbing along my stomach. He closes his eyes like he is trying his hardest not to lose control.
“Open your eyes, Lincoln,” I whisper.
He opens his eyes, and they hold so much torture in them right now. I stand up on my toes and softly press my lips against his. He kisses me back, but I can feel him trying to keep it innocent. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide into his mouth. Then his hands reach behind me and grab my cheeks, pulling me forward.
“I want you to fuck me. Hard. With no condom.”
The dirty words slip from my mouth so easily. I like talking like this. Most of all, I like the look that settles in his eyes after I said them.
“Kylie,” he groans like he’s in pain, “I can’t.”
I know he’s trying to be an upstanding man. He thinks I’m too fragile. I’ve been through enough in my life that I know I can handle a little rough sex. In fact, I want it.
“That’s fine. If you want to treat me like a delicate flower, I can always find someone else who’s willing to …” I start but can’t finish my words.
He lifts me in the air, swings my legs around his waist, pushes me against the window, and slams into my pussy with such force that I think he reaches my lungs because they feel like they have no oxygen.
He stays seated inside of me while his eyes hold mine. “You. Are. Mine. No one else touches you. If you want it rough and bare, baby, that’s what you’re going to get. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ve been warned,” I exhale.
“You have been warned,” he growls, then pulls out slowly then pushes back in, maybe even harder than the first thrust. His eyes flutter. “Fuuuck, this feels amazing. Your pussy is so damn tight and wet for me.”
I link my arms around his neck and start to kiss his muscular shoulder. “I love knowing that you’ve never done this with someone else.”
“Only you,” he whispers along my neck and then presses his teeth into it.
His hands find my ass cheeks, and he lifts me slightly before sliding out and pushing back in again. He starts at a decent pace—nothing I can’t handle. It’s still a tight fit, but despite the sting from the first second, it’s all pleasure.
This pace continues for a while, both of us reveling in the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and then hitting that perfect spot inside of me. Then he picks up the pace, thrusting in and out with such force that my body keeps getting shoved harder and harder against the window.
“Ohhh gosh,” I scream at the sensations he’s evoking within me.
“You think this is it, don’t you?” he growls as he keeps his thrusts hard and punishing. “I haven’t even begun to fuck you properly.”
“Don’t hold back,” I beg. “Please. I want all of you.”
I also don’t think I have much longer before I explode into a million pieces. Then it happens; he gives me everything. His hips move at a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible, and he thrusts into me as hard as he can. I hold on to him for dear life while he fucks me in a way that I’m sure I’ll never be fucked like this again.
I don’t have time to recover between thrusts. He starts to curse against my neck as his body tenses.
“I’m going to come so hard inside of you,” he chokes.
“Yes!” I cry. “I’m coming too!”
My pussy starts to contract, limited by the thick cock throbbing inside of it, and he joins me in our free fall. His rough groans are loud and intense, like he can’t hold back his own reaction to his release. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. So much hotter than the descriptions in books when a man loses control.
His breathing is labored as his head falls down onto my shoulder. I run my hands down his back and up into his hair as he struggles to regain control of his breathing. His hands hold on to my hips as I unwrap my legs and try to stand on my own, his dick slipping out of me in the process.
I look down at my leg and see his cum dripping down my inner thigh.
“Oops.” I giggle, slightly embarrassed. “I guess it’s a little messier without a condom.”
I look up at him, and his eyes are transfixed on my thigh.
“Look at that,” he mutters almost to himself. His eyes move to mine, dark and intent. “You wear me so well.”
We step under the spray of the shower, and he kisses me. A kiss that feels like it’s speaking a thousand words that have been hanging in the air around us.
After we’re done cleaning up, we step out of the shower. With my towel wrapped around me, I walk into his bedroom to find my pajamas in my bag.
“Do you need something to wear?” he asks.
I turn around, my heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe with his towel hanging low on his hips. I’m too busy getting lost in his physique to answer.
He chuckles to himself as he walks over to his dresser and pulls out some sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“Here,” he says as he tosses them my way.
“Oh,” I reply as I catch them. “Um, thanks.”
I feel bad, not telling him I already packed something to wear. I also kind of love the idea of wearing his clothes. I slip on a clean pair of panties, then let the towel drop. I realize there’s no point in putting on the pants when his shirt alone drowns me. I place his pants on top of his dresser and decide to wear just his shirt.
It’s navy blue with white writing that says Columbia University on it. I didn’t know that he went to school here in the city. When I was sixteen, before my parents went missing, I considered Columbia as an option for college. I haven’t thought about that in years.
I run a comb through my hair and apply my deodorant before I meet him back in his kitchen. When I walk in, he’s pulling something out of the fridge.
“What’s that?” I ask curiously.
He turns around, and the moment he sees me, his eyes do that weird thing where they appear darker and more intense. It’s so distracting when he does that. It makes my panties wet.
He clears his throat, then meets my eyes. “I ordered dessert as well.”
“Ooh, I love dessert,” I say as I hop up onto his countertop. “What is it?”
He pulls out a fork, then comes to stand in between my legs and opens the box. “Take your pick.”
I look down at the Angelina Bakery box on the countertop next to me. My mouth waters just thinking about what’s inside. I peek in, and the aromas alone have my stomach making noises.
“Oh my gosh. You never buy for the appropriate number of people. There are more than a dozen things in here.”
“I wanted to make sure I got what you liked. What do you want to try first?”
That’s a tough question, but the doughnuts look incredible.
“What’s that one?” I ask as I point to a particular doughnut I want.
“That is the pistachio bomboloni,” he says as he takes it out of the box. “An Italian doughnut.”
He brings it to my mouth. I close my eyes and take a bite. The burst of flavors in my mouth is instant pleasure. I moan, opening my eyes, and see him taking his own bite.
“I’m trying really hard not to get turned on right now,” he says with his mouth full.
I laugh and use my thumb to get some of the powdered sugar stuck to the corner of his mouth. “Is it the doughnut that’s making you hard?”
He laughs around his food, then swallows. “I mean … I’m kinky, but I don’t know that it extends to pastry.”
“What else is in there?” I lean over and look down at the contents.
“Try this. It’s an almond croissant.”
We spend the next couple of minutes talking and laughing as we take bites out of each dessert. If his hands are not filled with some kind of delectable dessert, they are running up and down my bare legs. At one point, he takes me by the calves and wraps my legs around his waist while we eat a cannoli together.
I thought it might be awkward or intimidating to spend the night with him, but he’s so different here with me than at the office. We don’t just work well together in the bedroom. He’s funny, and I seem to make him laugh too. I’m trying not to read too much into this, especially since I don’t know where he sees us going.