Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
cove
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
Jane Austen
I’m tired. Tired of pretending not to want him.
Stetson has been nothing but persistent, yet patient with me to give him a chance. Showing up in Chicago just to spend time with me. I think all that effort calls for a reward, right?
Or maybe that’s how I’m choosing to justify wanting him.
I know that after I return from Paris, I’m a prisoner to my worthless father’s will. At his beck and call for a week, doing god knows what with god knows who.
I don’t have the mental capacity right now to worry. I can only hope the man I’m set to date for that week will be semi-decent. But then again, if he and his father are in business with Nathaniel McIntosh, the odds aren’t good.
That’s why I’m giving myself tonight.
I’m pausing time to focus on what I want for once, rather than what’s to come. Just one night with Stetson and then I can go back to staying in my bubble. Back to Miami, where the elite are just as brutal as the heat, and somehow that feels more normal than my new reality.
That’s what I’m choosing to tell myself, at least.
I can’t commit to anyone right now. Even more so after this proposition plays out. There’s no way Stetson would respect me for this. I’m struggling to respect myself. And it makes sense. I’m selling myself for money.
Although temporary, no less humiliating.
Especially, when the true villain behind it all is my own father.
So, tonight is about me. Preferably with Stetson’s cock deep inside of me. Because goddamn it, I deserve the release.
The door to Stetson’s suite at The Beverly closes, sealing us in complete silence. The walls are painted a moody navy blue, light linens and draperies making the high-end decor feel warm and sensual.
But we don’t need any of it. Not when the only thing that matters is the all-encompassing heat simmering between us. The fire we’ve both craved to let burn between our bodies and solidify the connection, barely holding on by a thread.
I’m ready to take him and let all this push and pull be worth it.
No matter how difficult it’ll be to say goodbye at the end. Just my luck, the one man I’m actually interested in would come at a time I can’t have him.
Stepping further into the room, I take the slowest step toward the large kitchen area, noticing a bottle of red wine on the counter.
“Pinot Noir,” I say breathlessly, twirling the bottom of the bottle erotically slow. I don’t look up, knowing I’ll find Stetson staked in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, staring at me as he has since the second we entered. “May I?”
He drinks me in like his favorite liquor. I’ve only ever seen him drink whiskey. Johnny Walker on the rocks.
“Please,” the gravel in his voice seeps through my ears, sparking my body with an intense need. I haven’t felt this turned on in ages. Longer than I can remember.
With Stetson, the connection is much more than surface level. There’s an imbalance when we aren’t close, and it’s not a desirable feeling. But being right beside him, conjoined however we can, that feels right.
Just like how I know touching him the way my body craves will feel extraordinary. And I could use an extraordinary moment amidst so many inadequate circumstances in my life right now.
I thank the stars above that the bottle is twist-off, maneuvering the cap open, and grabbing the long-stemmed wine glass from beside it. I proceed with pouring my wine while doing everything I can to see how Stetson plans for tonight to go.
I want him to take charge. I need him to.
I’ve reached my max capacity for performing, exhausted from powering through with a brave face. The mask is ready to come off.
“I know I’ve been indecisive…but can’t you see how much I want you, Stetson?
” I fill the glass before bringing the ruby-red liquid to my lips.
The wine seeps down my throat, the same way I imagine his cum would.
Slow and warm. I set the wine down, and my palms meet the cold countertop, body falling forward slightly as my eyes dilate.
“My pussy is soaked,” I whimper. “God, it has been for hours now. I can’t shake wanting you. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
Stetson’s sharp hiss can’t be missed. I’m being bold. Testing him beyond his limits. It’s time he leaves his gentlemanly antics at the door.
I’m more grateful than ever that I decided to change into a sundress and heels before dinner, freshening up and doing wonders for my confidence.
“And you’ll have me. Slip your dress off and let it fall to your feet. But don’t move. I want you right there.”
Yesss. “Whatever you want.”
The straps of my sundress slide down my shoulders at a pace that feels torturous, even for me.
I hear Stetson’s footsteps draw closer, in no hurry to catch up to me, likely taking in the sight of my naked breasts as my dress hits the floor.
I hope he likes silver on his tongue. “Fucking hell, Cove. Those tits. And pierced? I’m a lucky man. ”
They feel so swollen. Sensitive.
He’s closer than before, and my eyes stay shut. The anticipation of his touch makes me so fucking wet. I’m drenched, and I can’t wait for him to find out for himself. I also want to touch myself, but he commanded me not to move.
I’ve never been an obedient girl, but I will be for Stetson.
“Face me,” he demands, and I turn, our bodies directly in front of each other. He’s less than a foot away, fully clothed in his usual attire. Ever the simple man.
I’m unsure if it’s his eyes on me or the sudden brush of cool air across my nipples that has my moan sounding strangled.
I arch my back on impulse, standing before Stetson in nothing but light pink panties and white pointed heels.
He takes a step closer, drawing his fist to his mouth and biting down.
“Good girl. Nice to see you have some obedience beneath that powerful exterior. Could have played me for a fool.”
Seeing him bite his fist might just be the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Combine it with a compliment to my womanly power, and I’m a puddle. A man of Stetson’s caliber fighting for control? Gnawing at his own hand to refrain from dominating me?
Nothing is more attractive than that.
“I’m trying real hard to be respectful of you right now, Cove.
But seeing you like this. Full tits swollen, in need of my touch.
Those goddamn nipples rings. Smooth legs looking deadly in those heels.
Just the smell of your pussy is doing a number on my fucking sanity.
It only makes me want to disrespect you in the filthiest of ways. ”
If my pussy could cry, it’d be screaming right now. I can’t overcome the urge to squeeze my thighs together, eyes rolling to the back of my head in overwhelming need to be consumed by this man. “Do it. Disrespect me, Stet. I want it.”
He’s less than a breath away, and I want him closer.
The moment I feel the faintest touch slip across the fabric of my core, my body jolts, a raspy moan leaving my lips. “Oh my god.”
One thumb meets my right nipple, ghosting the silver ring intentionally, while the fabric of my panties is simultaneously shoved into my center. “How about we stuff this tight cunt for a moment while I play with my girl?”
The lace creates a delicious friction against my clit, and I’m unable to physically stop my hips from rolling.
Training my eyes on Stetson’s hypnotizing blues, I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, wanting it to be his so badly.
“As long as you promise to give me pain with that pleasure,” I rush, feeling famished and achy.
My breath is stolen in seconds at the pinch of my nipples, his thick fingers twisting them enough to make me scream. “Stetson!”
His mouth runs leisurely up the side of my neck, only to stop at my ear and whisper hoarsely, “I have dark tastes, my love. I need your consent before I make a disrespectful mess of you.”
Surprising him right back, I twist my head to the side and pull his ear between my teeth, then slide my tongue up the side of his neck. “As if my moans aren’t enough. You’ve got it. Now, make me your little slut.”
This is both my therapy and reward. And what a pleasant surprise, we share the same interests. It’s about time I matched with someone just like me.
Shocking for the Texas cowboy, but no less ideal.
Palms almost the width of my stomach slide up my curves and ghost the sides of my breasts, grasping them into his calloused hands. Stetson’s towering frame brings a level of potency and possessiveness I’ve hungered for.
There’s no doubt in my mind I’ll never forget this night.
However, my thoughts are solidified when, without warning, Stetson’s hand grips my neck in a chokehold, his strong body falling into the arch of my stomach. He seethes with passion, my body coming to life at his touch.
“Then get on your fucking knees.”
And just like that, I’ve met my match.