21. Brooklyn
brOOKLYN
I stay near the table sipping my glass of water for a few more minutes after Heather storms off.
My heart is pounding, but not from stress.
Instead it’s pure adrenaline and a heady feeling of self-assurance.
I stood up to her. It was empowering, and not something I would normally do.
I’ve never been a complete pushover, but I’m not confrontational, either.
Being diplomatic is the way to go in most situations.
But you need a strong backbone to make it to the top, and though I’ve been working on it, standing up to that bitch was a big step for me.
I can’t have women with agendas like Heather constantly trying to plow me over with their jealousy and gossip. And I just proved to myself that I have the strength to prevent them from getting to me. Guess I’m a little bit of a badass, after all.
With a barely suppressed smile, I glance to where Heather has rejoined the other model, Sasha.
Their heads are bent together, but I don’t even care what they’re talking about.
I’m already over it. Just then, I catch the sight of Luka’s long, muscular body leaning against the wall in the shadows off to my left.
He’s pretty relaxed, as if he’s been there for a while.
Was he eavesdropping this whole time? That controlling ass.
An arrogant grin tugs at his gorgeous lips as he saunters over to me with his hands in his pockets, which is more than enough answer to my question. I set my jaw, annoyed that he would lurk, and equally irritated that he did nothing to step in and back me up.
“How long were you standing there?” I cock my head, challenging him to lie to me.
“Long enough to appreciate the fact that you can fight your own battles.”
Pride washes over me, and suddenly I’m glad he didn’t try to intervene. “That’s something you should know by now,” I say, matching his cockiness with a bit of my own.
He reaches for a glass and pours some water, takes a small sip, and eyes me over the rim of the glass. “You know, the way you talked to Heather about me—got all feisty and possessive? That was pretty hot.”
I give a nonchalant shrug. “If I’m going to be fully invested in our agreement, I have to act the part. Do you really think I wouldn’t defend our ‘relationship’ in public?”
Luka’s smile widens and he puts his arm around me, drawing me close.
“Is that all it was?” he asks, looking down into my eyes. “An act?”
Tingles race down my spine. “Of course. What else would it be?”
Our lips are inches apart, body heat flaring between us, and Luka’s gazing at me with an intensity that makes my pussy ache.
I almost wish someone would bring me the damn full-ass panty that he was barking orders about so I’d have more of a barrier than this tiny thong between us.
Female voices get closer and I glance over to see the other models walking our way.
Heather gives Luka a wink and makes a show of sneering at me as they sashay toward us.
His eyes narrow with a spark of his asshole side—I know he’s about to do something. But I’m still not prepared as he takes my chin to tip my face up, and suddenly he’s kissing me, his arm tightening around my waist as he pulls me tighter against him.
“Luka,” I half moan, finally drawing away a little to catch my breath.
Instead of letting up, he steals another searing kiss, cupping my face and tilting my head back so my neck is bared and my breasts push forward. He grins against my lips as if he’s enjoying the little display he’s putting on for the benefit of the other models.
“You’re mine,” he growls, but it’s only loud enough for me to hear. The timbre of his voice jacks my need and it takes all my willpower not to wrap my leg around his and pull his hips closer to mine. Luka nibbles at my neck and works his way up, and I gasp at the contact.
Regardless of the fact that this is all for show, the chemistry between us is real.
My chest hitches at the warm luxury of his mouth brushing across mine gently before he takes my lips again fully, demanding that I part them with a push of his tongue.
I do, and his tongue slicks along mine until I’m completely breathless, practically panting in his arms. He cradles the back of my head with the palm of his hand as he pulls away.
His eyes are clouded with desire and also something I haven’t seen in him before.
Pride.
“What was that for?” I step back and smooth my robe with my palms, realizing that Heather and Sasha are gone. They must have gotten the message after seeing Luka all over me. “And why are you looking at me like that?”
Glancing around, I see that the photographer and everyone else on the crew has left, too. The set area is empty save for me and Luka, the space completely quiet. They all must have left to take a meal break.
“Just pleased to see my fiancée turn into such a lioness,” he says.
“No thanks to you,” I huff. “You could have stepped in. Backed me up some.”
The dark lust in his eyes deepens and all at once I’m glad everyone is gone…because I’m two seconds away from getting on the table and fucking him right here.
“You want me to back you up, Brooklyn?” he says. “How about I back you up against the wall and wrap your legs around my waist so I can fuck you hard and deep? Or maybe I’ll back you up against the couch over there and bend you over it so I can take you from behind.”
“Jesus.” My face flushes hot and I’m so needy and wanting that I can hardly stand still.
He takes my hand. “I prefer when you call me ‘Oh, God.’”
“Is that so?” I say, my voice a challenge, my pulse racing.
Our eyes catch for a hot second and then we’re hurrying from the room and down a hallway.
He makes quick work of checking door handles until he finds a room that’s open.
We tumble inside, into semi-darkness. He shuts the door quietly, and suddenly my back is pressed against it and his hand is on my hip.
He flicks on a light and we both go completely still.
My eyes dart around the room and I laugh. I can’t help it. Of all the places to fuck in this luxury building, we found a storage closet. The corners of his eyes crinkle. “We’re the adventurous kind, aren’t we?”
“You could say that,” I agree.
He laughs, and this banter feels good. It’s light and easy, and sexy because we’re sharing this odd moment in an even odder place. Just then, the overhead light shuts off. He laughs again, and then the soft glow of his cellphone flashlight illuminates the room.
“Oooh, ambiance,” I croon.
“Now you don’t have to worry about stepping in a mop bucket while I make you come.”
His hands and lips are suddenly everywhere, and I surrender to his ministrations.
He opens the tie to my robe. It flutters open, bringing cool air over my desire-heated skin.
I shiver and Luka responds by running hot kisses over my collarbone, between my breasts, and down my torso.
Clutching his head between my hands, I run my fingers through his hair and let my head fall back against the door.
Trails of electric pleasure follow the path of his lips across my skin.
His kisses are eager and urgent, but soothing.
I moan softly at the delicate pleasure, panting when Luka traces a finger along the front of my thong.
The fabric is fragile, and he could easily rip it off me.
Instead he brushes it carefully to the side, taking care to let the pads of his fingers trail along my sensitive, needy skin.
Then he drops to his knees and pulls my left leg over his shoulder, his finger tracing the seam of my bare pussy.
With a gasp, I push into his touch, needing more.
He looks up at me. He’s so wickedly handsome on his knees for me that I swear I might orgasm just from the sight of him. The light gives him an angelic glow, and I want to crack a joke, but the intensity of his expression robs me of clear thought.
“I like it when you’re possessive, Brooklyn.”
“You do?” I’m so breathless, I can barely get the words out.
He parts my lips and his tongue slicks across my clit.
I cry out and have to brace one hand against the door to steady myself.
Luka storms a crazy assault on my clit, his tongue lapping and swirling and flicking until I can barely control the volume of my cries.
Clenching my jaw to keep from screaming, I sink into the sensations he’s causing and ride them as they flood my body, grinding my pussy against his hot, hungry mouth, until we find a rhythm.
The edge of my release wraps around me and I tense, ready to welcome it.
“I’m gonna come,” I moan.
Luka pulls away. I’m barely aware of anything except the sudden loss.
I’m about to protest when I hear the sound of his zipper, and my heart rate doubles as I realize he’s about to fuck me.
Yes. He grips my waist and hitches me up, urging my thighs around his waist. The fat tip of his cock nudges at my wet opening, and all the heady sensations come flooding back.
I want to come so badly, yet I crave the overpowering feel of his thick cock inside me.
“I want you to always be possessive of me,” he breathes against my lips. “Show everyone who gets to take this cock every day.”
“Yes,” I murmur against his mouth, in between kisses. “Yes, yes, yes. Give it to me.”
He thrusts up inside me, hard and deep, filling me completely in one strong move.
I can’t hold back my jagged moan as I dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt to clutch his shoulders.
Slipping a hand between us, he finds my clit and begins slow circles around it as he thrusts.
His movements are careful, as if he’s gauging the level of my pleasure so he can build on it.
And it’s working. He’s so good, he knows exactly how to jack me up, higher and higher, until the pressure inside me is so strong I need to scream or come, or both, to relieve it.
“Oh, God,” I moan. It’s definitely working.
His lips find the side of my neck, an intimate touch that he drags along the sensitive flesh as his cock and fingers drive me toward the edge again.
“Fuck me, Luka,” I pant. “Fuck me, fuck me.”
“You’re mine,” he growls, picking up the pace. “Your body is mine. This pussy is mine.”
“Yes. Yes.”
The tension between my legs is painful. I need…I need…
“Tell me I’m yours, Brooklyn. Like you’re screaming it so every woman in this building knows it.”
I loop my hands around his neck. “You’re mine…you’re fucking mine, Luka Zoric.” My voice is aggressive, feral. I’ve never heard myself sound like this before.
“And you’re mine,” he says. “All mine.”
Our mouths find each other in the dim light, hot and desperate and almost violent. I feel myself start to break apart and I can’t hold back. “Oh, God,” I murmur.
My release crashes over me, pulsing in deep shockwaves, leaving me shuddering. Luka groans softly into my neck, his body going tight as he pumps his final release into me.
We’re holding each other tight, our breaths mingling, our moans echoing each other’s.
Emotions flood me, unbidden. I don’t recognize them as anything except…
they’re something new. Something…different.
My chest goes tight with whatever it is as Luka gently lowers me to my feet.
My arms are still around his neck and I lean into him, closing my eyes as I listen to his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t speak, just lets me hold him, stroking my lower back.
Finally, I pull away. I have no idea what that was. I’m not sure I want to.
He finds some tissues and carefully tidies me up, even pulling my robe around me and tying it again.
He’s gone from possessive, domineering asshole to tender lover so fast that I’m not sure what to think.
But it’s done something to my emotional center, and I’m shaken.
It hits me then: Luka Zoric isn’t actually the standoffish ice king that he wants me to believe he is.
There are real emotions hiding inside him and they keep coming out and getting in the way.
“Let’s turn the light on and make sure you’re all in one piece,” he says.
He reaches beside me to turn on the light, but I stop him.
I rather like the soft glow of his cellphone and the intimate haze hanging over us.
The way he’d kissed my body and touched me with care was different from whatever sparked between us in the past, and I’m sure we both felt it.
Once he turns the overhead light on, it’ll all go away.
“No, leave it. I don’t mind looking like I’ve been freshly fucked.”
He flashes me a wicked grin. “Really?”
“What better way to stake my claim, right?”
A low groan comes from deep in his throat.
He kisses me lightly before moving me away from the door and opening it.
Then he slips an arm around me as we head back down the hall, toward the shoot.
I steal a glance at him as we walk. He looks almost happy.
Almost content. He catches me looking, and smiles.
“You really impressed me back there,” he says.
“In the closet?” I tease. “Or back at the shoot?”
He laughs. “Both.”
My instincts were right today, I realize.
The way I dealt with Heather was ultimately for the best. Everyone—including myself—will respect me more for owning my piece of this relationship.
Even if it is a sham. And as long as I continue to stand up for myself, I don’t have to lose who I am.
I can still be my own person. I can own myself.
Maybe Mateo was right. Luka’s domineering, possessive ways are kind of hot.
Yet I can also see that he’s been an asshole during these photoshoots because at the end of the day, he wants what’s best for me, for both of us.
He’s looking out for our professional reputations.
And today, I’d been looking out too. Though I have to admit, I kind of enjoyed the shocked look on Heather’s face when I’d given her a verbal middle finger.
As I stroll back onto the set with Luka at my side, my body still tingles with the aftereffects of hot sex. Yes, I’d liked being that possessive woman. But Luka liked it way more.
And if it’s going to make both of us feel this good, I have no intention of loosening my claim on Luka Zoric any time soon.