Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gris
Arabella scared the shit out of me tonight. I don’t scare often, but she rocked me to my core.
She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m not going anywhere.
I will beg, borrow, or steal, but I’m staying tonight.
But she doesn’t argue as I close the door and click the lock. I can see that the events of the last few days are wearing on her.
She wasn’t made for this kind of fight. She’s soft, gentle. She’s the type of woman who should be protected.
I know it deep down, even though we’ve only known each other for a few days. And here’s the thing about me, I’ve got strength in spades.
I’ve always kept a tight rein on my feelings. I don’t let them get involved, I don’t do soft or fuzzy.
But Arabella is worming her way past my defenses. It started with the way we both lost control that first night.
But now, I see her trying so hard to stand tall when every male around her keeps pushing her down.
It makes me want to knock in their teeth.
My gaze sweeps over her place. It’s spectacular.
Her decorating is honestly worthy of the aristocracy.
The textures are perfect, with the silks of the drapes complementing the fabrics of the upholstery.
The chairs and sofa aren’t matching sets, but they blend seamlessly. It’s the kind of quality that a person can’t fake.
I pull Arabella close again. “I love your place.”
“Really?” she asks, her voice taking on an air of breathless excitement. “I love it too, but no one else seems to notice.”
“Not even Preston? Doesn’t his family tout themselves as old money?”
“They did build their fortune at the turn of the century. Railroad money.”
“Americans,” I mutter into her hair. I feel her soft laugh as she relaxes into me.
“Oh please, the Wingates have us beat by a country mile. My family has had money for five minutes.”
“And yet, you have far better taste than any of them.” My mother is a duchess. She has taste.
The Wingates are hacks.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Her arms come around my neck.
I lift her into my arms. It hits me again, how much this woman suits me. Beautiful, talented, sexy, soft in all the ways I need.
I open a few doors, finding her room and carrying her inside.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs but she’s totally pliant in my arms.
“But I am here and I’m not leaving for a while.” I know I’m an asshole. Ordering her around in her own place.
“Gris.”
“I’ll just hold you. It’s been a shit day, and you need some sleep. Let me do this for you.”
She lifts her head, giving me a soft smile. “And you think having you in bed with me is going to help me sleep? I don’t remember much sleep happening last time.”
I chuckle, setting her down on her feet, even as I reach for the zipper in the back of her dress.
I’ve only ever seen her in a dress or naked. She looks as natural as any aristocrat in heels and the knee-length silk gown fits like it’s made for her.
But if I have anything to say about it, I’m keeping her in bed for as long as possible in nothing but my T-shirt.
The dress falls to the floor, pooling around her feet. “Gris.” This time, my name has a lot more judgment. She sounds like my favorite primary school teacher. I loved that woman.
My eyes travel down her lacy bra, over the gorgeous indent of her waist, and down to her matching thong.
“I can just hold you, luv, like I promised. But just to be clear… I am available for other services.”
“Are we negotiating again?” And then she steps out of the dress, removing one heel and then the other.
She picks up the dress and walks toward the closet, her ass on full display in the thong.
I was already rock hard but watching her walk, I start leaking cum. Jesus.
“Once again, luv, it’s for you to make the rules.”
“Is that because you have another agenda in mind, my lord?”
Fuck. How did she know the proper address? I don’t give a fuck about being a lord, but on her lips, it sounds so good. She disappears into the closet and then comes out again, leaning against the door jamb.
I practically growl as my eyes roam over her. “No agenda other than the fact that I love the way you taste and the way you sound when you cum.”
Her breath catches, her body giving a little shiver and I know she’s mine tonight. I’m unbuttoning my shirt before she has answered, tossing it in one of the chairs that she’s got in a little sitting area under the windows. I kick off my shoes and stride over to where she stands. I’m going to collect my woman and then I’m going to eat her until she screams.
I see her eyes dilate, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “I feel like I should run.”
“I’d catch you.”
“I know.” Her hand trembles. “You’re going to devour me, aren’t you?”
I’m about to say yes, when I catch the double meaning of the words. She’s afraid of me.
She should be.
I reach her, my hand snaking out to grab her ass, to pull her into my body. She’s got to push up on tiptoes for her arms to come around my neck, her fingers twining into my hair. “Or you could cum so pretty that I can’t make myself leave your bed.”
One of her perfect brows arches up. “Is that what it takes?”
I don’t answer as I reach for her jaw with my other hand, bringing her face to mine as I kiss her long and deep.
She’s so fucking pliant in my arms, her body molding to mine, her lips meeting my every touch.
I part hers, and thrust my tongue into her mouth, wanting more of her taste.
I think I really might have meant those words.
This woman could chain me to her pussy.
With a handful of her ass, I pull her even closer until she takes the hint and wraps one of her legs around my hips, opening up her legs so that my cock can nestle against her heat.
I’m still wearing my dress slacks, more precum collecting in my boxer briefs.
I didn’t ask her about my orgasm this time. Much as I’d like to cum, I care more about her pleasure tonight.
She deserves something for all the trouble I’ve caused her.
She’s rubbing against me, little cries and moans filling my mouth.
I’d like to make her cum standing right here, but instead, I’m lifting her in my arms again. One hand snakes up to the hooks of her bra and I open that shit one-handed.
The scrap of lace pops off and I take one her perfect tits into my mouth. She arches back, her nipple puckering against my tongue as she tugs my hair.
Fuck, I want to be inside her.
I give her other breast equal attention. I don’t play favorites as I lay her down on the bed.
“God, I love your skin,” she moans, both her legs locked around my waist now.
“My skin?” I was hoping for muscles. Cock even.
“It feels so good,” she moans, her hands sliding down my back. “Warm, rough, masculine.”
I stand corrected. I kiss between her breasts and then down her chest. “Yours is like silk, luv. I’ve never felt softer.”
She sighs, her body writhing to meet my every kiss. She smells amazing, like citrus and something floral with the perfume of sex all mixed together.
I reach her belly button, which is adorable, and promptly stick my tongue in it. There isn’t a hole of hers that I don’t want to explore.
She giggles, tugging at my hair again.
I start to slide lower, ready to taste her. And then, if she’ll let me, I’m going to bury myself deep inside her.
She was tight around my finger, around my cock she’s going to feel so fucking good.
I kiss over her mound and then slide my shoulders between her thighs. “After I’m done making you scream, I want to be inside you,” I rumble before I take a big lick. But she doesn’t respond the way I expected.
She stiffens instead, going still.
I lift up my chin as she pushes up onto her elbows, her tits looking absolutely stunning. I can already see a flush climbing up her chest and neck, infusing her skin.
She’s got this gorgeous pale skin, which means I can actually see the color climb. “I…”
My brows lift. “Is this because of the engagement?”
“No,” she shakes her head, and she sounds sure.
“Because of what I did earlier?”
“Not even that,” she says as she bites her lip. “I…” Her little pink tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Gris, I’ve never…”
A growl climbs up my throat and erupts from my lips. “You’re a virgin?”
She’s splayed out for me, her pussy spread open like a fucking buffet, just a few inches from my face. I see her cheeks darken even more, turning a bright red. “I’m not a prude.”
“I know.” I don’t want to break eye contact, so I bring the pad of my thumb to her clit and start massaging light circles. We are not stopping this party, we’re just slowing it down for a minute.
“In New York I had this security detail, which made dating difficult. It wasn’t until after Toni died that I finally had some freedom. That’s when I met Preston.”
While he’s the last guy I want to talk about, I can’t believe that he hasn’t touched her. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Then again, his loss is my gain. “No wonder you went out with him. He was the first guy who came along when you finally had some freedom.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She looks away… “Anyway, I’m not sure today is the right day for me to… you know…”
I give a quick nod, agreeing, before I dive back into her pussy. She’s right. There isn’t enough trust yet between us, but I make some promises to myself and silently to her.
I’m going to be the guy. The guy that takes her first. And then, at least for a hot minute, she’ll be mine, and only mine.
That thought is way more satisfying than I ever imagined.
Arabella is a goddess, and I eat her pussy like a starving man. It takes almost no time before she’s panting my name, her fingers threading into my hair as she pulls me closer, begging for more friction.
Fuck. I might have to move in. I want to do this every night.
I insert a finger inside her, then another, feeling the stretch even as she cries out her pleasure.
I get this overwhelming feeling that I belong in bed with this woman.
I know I’m losing my shit, breaking rules I never break, all because she cries my name in the sweetest fucking voice. I tell myself not to lose my head.
But I’m already weakening. That shit I told her about Luke. It wasn’t the smart play.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to ruin everything.