Chapter 21
Keira
Iopen my eyes to a shaded room.
Rhys must’ve pulled the curtain closed.
I flip over to his side of the bed.
I’m alone.
I can’t hide my disappointment, but unlike me, he has a company to run.
I pull the sheet over my head, allowing myself one more minute of rest.
His masculine scent lingers.
Breathing in deep, I memorize the smell of him.
I guess I should get up for another day of boredom.
I try to sit up.
My poor pussy is screaming in pain.
Rhys is way bigger than my first and since it’s been a while, it feels like I lost my virginity all over again with none of the first-time awkwardness.
My throat is a little sore from screaming out his name so many times from the multiple orgasms.
My God, the man worked me.
I have to go at it slow and steady.
I sit up in bed.
My mind might not welcome boredom, but my body will. I doubt I’ll be able to do much today other than read and lounge.
I rub the remnants of sleep from my eyes and stretch with a yawn.
God, every part of me hurts.
Clatter coming from downstairs echo throughout the house and a sugary scent tickles my nostrils.
Wow. The housekeeper is going above and beyond this morning.
I pull the sheet off my naked body and slide off the bed.
Ouch, ouch, ouch.
This thing is so big, it’s like traveling across two States. When my feet land on the floor, I groan.
My legs feel like lead.
I swear, Rhys’s cock should come with a warning.
I look around, but my dress is nowhere to be found. Neither is his suit. The same goes for my strappy heels and sexy underwear.
My eyes land on one of Rhys’s t-shirts neatly folded on the chaise longue.
I pull it over my head to hide my nakedness before making my way to my bedroom, humming a song from the perpetual jukebox playing in my head.
I can’t help my smile when I open the door and I’m greeted by my pretty dress neatly laid out on the bed.
He’s so sweet.
I grab the t-shirt and boxer briefs I last wore on Friday, still sitting on the chair where I left them, and make my way to the bathroom. After taking care of business, brushing my teeth, and a quick shower to wake me up, I get dressed in Rhys’s clothing, and sleek back my new blonde hair.
I amble down the stairs and head to the kitchen. Every step is excruciating, my tender pussy a reminder of my boyfriend’s formidable cock.
The advantage of a great lover is multiple toe-curling orgasms and discovering new sex positions. The downside is, I’m starved. I once read you can burn between one to three hundred calories in a passionate thirty-minute sex-session. My kind of fitness regime.
When I enter the kitchen, I freeze.
Isn’t it Monday today?
Maybe too much fucking makes you lose track of time.
Rhys is standing in front of the waffle iron in nothing but gray boxers, his back to me.
That round ass…
He must feel my presence because he turns around.
“Morning.” He greets me with a wide smile.
“Morning.”
He drops the spatula and plate he’s holding on the counter and approaches.
“I thought you bought a whole new wardrobe,” he says, his eyes sweeping down my body.
“In my defense, the suitcases are still in your trunk, and I kind of love wearing your t-shirts and boxer briefs.”
He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you bought so much stuff, you needed suitcases.”
When I arrived at the hotel last night, the concierge kindly offered to grab the suitcases. I was a little hesitant after my disastrous Bangkok experience, but given this was a high-end hotel and the owner is a friend of Rhys’s, I accepted.
“It was Phoebe’s idea. Not mine.” Since I had so many individual bags, she suggested I stuff everything in a few old suitcases she was going to take to the thrift shop. “I never reached the limit you gave me.”
“Sure.” He shoots me a side gaze.
“I swear.”
I even cross my heart.
“I believe you,” he says. “Now, where’s my morning kiss?”
“Right here, big guy.” I point to my lips.
“C’mere.” He grabs me by the waist.
His ravishing kiss is passionate, but out of nowhere, my stomach growls in an unladylike way.
He chuckles against my lips.
I curse my hunger.
“Let me finish breakfast so I can feed you,” he says. “I still have to cook the bacon.”
He returns to making waffles.
I look around the kitchen, amazed. “What’s up with the feast?”
“I figured you’d be hungry.”
He’s been up for a while.
The kitchen island is laden with a glass bowl filled with boiled eggs, a yummy looking fruit platter, a variety of nuts, an assortment of jams, peanut butter and a bottle of maple syrup from Vermont.
This man surely knows how to say good morning in a language I appreciate.
“I’m famished—”
“Three rounds of mind-blowing sex will do that to a girl,” he says.
“Indeed.”
His grin is epic.
“Nevertheless, it’s Monday,” I say.
“I know.”
“Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
He shakes his head.
“Err… it’s nine o’clock. Shouldn’t you be long gone by this time?”
“I called my executive assistant and Beckett to tell them I wouldn’t be in today.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is perfect.”
“So why aren’t you going in?”
“I’m the boss and it’s my prerogative,” he says with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “All right, Mr. COO. It’s good to hold that much power.” I laugh.
He doesn’t.
He turns off the waffle iron and places the last waffle on a plate, and turns his undivided attention to me, his expression serious.
“I decided not to go in because of you, Keira.”
“Because of me?” I point at my chest.
His glacier-blue eyes are intense. “I want to spend the day with my girlfriend.”
Maybe too much fucking inhibits my ability to hear.
“Wh—what?”
“I said, I want to spend the day with my girlfriend.”
The second time around doesn’t dampen the shock.
My jaw drops and I stand there momentarily dumbstruck.
His eyes bore into mine. “Last week, I was in denial. Last night, we went from wine to sixty-nine. I thought I would be able to take things slow, but I wanted you so damn much—”
“It was mutual.”
His lips stretch into a warm smile. “Today, I want to enjoy you, and spend the whole day kissing you.”
I’m grinning like a fool.
“You’re going to keep me trapped in your mansion with your lips on mine?” And hopefully your lips on my pussy?
“Pretty much.”
“And I don’t get a say?”
“Not really. You’re mine now and I have access to your lips whenever I want.”
“Thanks for the explanation, Mr. Caveman.”
I love his possessiveness.
“What can I say? You bring out the alpha in me,” he says.
“I thought Dark Compulsion did that––”
Shit, shit, shit.
He narrows his eyes at me.
I avert my gaze.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do as I’m told.
“How do you know about Dark Compulsion?”
I play dumb. “Didn’t you mention it last night over dinner?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Hmmm…”
The wheels in my head spin faster than a whirligig in a whirlwind as I struggle to find a way out.
“Arianne told you,” he says.
“In her defense, she was tipsy.”
“What did she tell you about Dark Compulsion?”
I clear my throat, buying some time to find the right words. I don’t want to incriminate Arianne. “It’s a––”
Something takes over me.
I nix the safe answer.
I slide my hand up his chest, to the back of his head, and weave my fingers in his hair.
“I’m waiting,” he says.
I bite my lower lip and dive in with both feet. “If you’re allowed to bring your girlfriend…” I pause.
His blue eyes turn dark indigo.
“She’s up for a little––or a lot of––kinky.”
His eyes widen and then narrow.
He leans close enough for his breath to skate over my temple. “You’re on.”
I swallow.
“Now that you have me all worked up, fuck breakfast. I need your pussy swallowing my cock.”