Page 8

Chapter Seven

Tessa

Nathan leads me toward a waiting black limousine. Still not saying a word, I let him settle me inside of it. Within minutes, we’re speeding away from the banquet hall and the watchful eyes of the party guests and my dad’s rage and disgust.

I look back at the venue, which is now a spot of light in the rear windshield, still unable to believe that Nathan came to the party at all. Not only did he come, it looks like it was for the singular purpose of getting me out.

The idea that he might have done that for me makes my belly flutter. The shock of my dad’s cruel words ebbs away, replaced by the novelty of being alone with Nathan.

He sits beside me, a silent yet comforting presence, but he seems lost in thought. His jaw is tight, and he’s staring out of the window.

Something is eating him up.

He yanks off his bowtie and undoes the top two buttons of his shirt, then sprawls back against the seat, his large frame taking up most of the space in the car.

I become more aware of him as his drugging scent fills my nose. It’s still the same from five years ago. Earthy and masculine.

I decide that conversation will be the best cure for this mounting desire to just sit and inhale the guy.

LA is about an hour away from Valencia. Plenty of time to get high on him and do something really stupid, like bury my nose in his neck.

“Where are we going, Dr. King?”

He winces, pausing for a beat before responding, “I’m taking you home, Tess. Unless you’d like to go elsewhere?”

Elsewhere, like your place? I crush that wild thought.

“No, home is fine. Thanks.” My home is one of the apartments in the Fount’s massive six-storey staff quarters. My team and I were delighted to be offered free accommodation as part of the package we negotiated.

“You didn’t tell me that you were coming here, too,” I say into the growing silence.

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I wasn’t going to attend.”

“So, why did you change your mind?”

He finally pins me with a fierce look. “Why do you think, Tess?”

“For me?”

“To get you away from there, yes,” he clarifies.

Tilting my head to the side, I look him over like he’s a puzzle I’m trying to solve. “But when I told you that I was coming here on Monday, you didn’t ask me not to come.”

At the very least, he could have warned me if he foresaw me having issues with my father, but then again, I probably would have just blown him off.

Nathan must know where my mind is at because he shoots me a deadpan stare and cocks his eyebrow. “Would you have listened if I had?”

He has a point there.

“So, you were friends with my mom?” I ask, needing to make sense of the mutual hate between him and my dad.

“What gave you that idea?” Nathan questions instead of answering me.

“Because when you said her name, you said it with…”

What? Familiarity? Passion? I’m not sure. “Like you knew her,” I finish.

Nathan turns to face me fully, his gaze skimming my face for a few seconds. Finally, he says, “We went to high school together, along with your darling father.”

My brows furrow. He’s not exactly answering the question of whether he and my mother were friends or not, but it’s obvious that there’s no love lost between him and my dad.

“You and my father seem to hate each other. Does it have anything to do with my mom, Dr. King?”

Nathan winces again.

“It probably has more to do with me buying back a certain piece of land from him and refusing to stop there. I want the rest. Everything he owns. So, I keep making him offers that he can’t to refuse.”

I note that he’s evaded my question about my mom, but what he’s revealed is equally intriguing, which only begs the question of what would make Nathan want to do that to the Blackwell empire.

“Why did you want those lands, Dr. King? You’re one of the most successful doctors in the States, not to mention the busiest. You hardly have time to farm.”

This time, he doesn’t bother answering my question; instead, he whispers gruffly, “Tess, do you know that in a whole month, scratch that, in five years, you haven’t once said my name? Not since that night.”

Oh, shit. I know where this conversation is heading.

I’ve felt an inexorable pull to Nathan all month but have fought against it. Hard.

His crazy schedule has made it easy on me to do so, too. Apart from the day in his office where I couldn’t resist playing with him a little because I saw how he struggled to keep his eyes off me, I’ve avoided him.

But right here in this confined space, with nowhere to hide and a determined man aiming to destroy my composure, my resolve to avoid him might hold as firm as wax before a naked flame.

“Nathan,” I begin, hoping to pacify him by giving him what he wants. Perhaps he won’t try to wear me down if I use my professional tone. “Look, I’m sorry if I misled you—”

“Fuck. Say my name again,” he gruffly commands.

My skin tingles, and my nipples tighten at his raw, needy tone. This battle may already have been lost before it even began. How am I supposed to resist him when he talks like that?

“Nathan,” I whisper.

“Come here,” he growls, dragging me closer, then practically dumps me onto his lap. I brace my hands on his shoulder and chest to keep myself from crashing into him,

He’s so big and warm, and I feel surrounded by him. I’m still fighting the urge to stroke the unyielding muscles beneath my hands when he suddenly grabs my hips and pulls me flush against his hard length.

“Nathan!”

“Feel what the sound of my name on your lips does to me.”

I moisten my lips nervously, and like a beacon, his gaze drops to my mouth.

He’s going to kiss me. Oh, God. Nathan King is about to kiss me .

And then, his large hand is cupping my jaw as his mouth slowly descends on mine.

For a moment or two, I’m too shocked to respond. I’d been imagining how it would feel to kiss him for ten years, and now, out of the blue, it’s happening.

He starts off with a small peck, then another, as if testing how we fit. Then, he goes to town.

His lips move unhurriedly over mine, teasing and coaxing. He nibbles and sucks on my bottom lip, then very gently grazes it with his teeth in a way that drives me mad. He does the same thing to my top lip.

What he’s doing feels like art. Like he’s exploring the shape and texture of my mouth. I’ve never been kissed like this. My lips go slack under his, inviting him to play with me more. He changes the angle, then deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth. As soon as his taste hits me, I begin to crave more.

When I start to return his kisses, he draws back, luring me to follow him and forcing me to declare without words how much I want him to keep going.

Enjoying his taste too much to stop, my hand goes to his stubbled jaw and spears into his silky hair to stop his retreat and pull him back to me.

All teasing gone now, the kiss turns ravenous, a decadent melding of lips and tongues and moans I’m unsure who’s making. I feel his cock twitching under my butt, and I can’t resist grinding back against him.

I’m so busy drowning in his kisses that I don’t recall rearranging myself to straddle his thighs. Next thing I know is that I’m shaking, so close to orgasm from having been grinding my clit against his hardness.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, puts a hand on my hip to stop my writhing, then looks straight into my eyes. “Tell me why you went to the party, Tess?”

I already gave him a few reasons yesterday. That he’s asking me again, right here and now, means that he didn’t believe me.

I consider what to tell him this time to get him to drop it. Did he really have to pick now to bring it up again? I mean, really, right now that I’m seconds away from coming?

“The truth,” he rasps, somehow knowing that I was about to come up with another excuse.

“I-I wanted to see him.” There’s a pause where he says nothing, simply raising a single eyebrow.

I miss having a family. I bow my head because I’m too ashamed to say that part out loud, but I suspect that Nathan already knows.

I hazard a look at his face, expecting to see disgust at my weakness, considering what he said to me five years ago, but the admiration I see in his eyes has me squirming. At least, that’s what I think his look means.

Before he can question me further and steal more secrets from me, I reciprocate with one of my own.

“So, what do you know about my…?”

“Father? He’s not much of one from what I’ve seen over the years.”

I actually meant to say my mom, but ouch.

His words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. My breath leaves me on a deep sigh, drawing Nathan’s attention to my hard nipples poking through my tight, green, strappy dress. I’d decided to forgo wearing a bra under the thick bodycon material.

When he looks back up at me, his eyes are almost completely black with only a thin ring of blue.

It’s such a turn on to see the depth of his desire.

While it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to lose myself in Nathan’s arms tonight, to let him wash away the bitter taste of tonight’s events, I’m also reminded of that night five years ago. The one where Nathan had humiliated me, even when he had a full-on erection.

He could very well be planning a repeat performance now.

“So, is this the part where you give me a scolding again for going to a place where no one gives a shit about me?” I whisper.

“No, Tess. This is the part where I tell you that you’re fucking stunning.”

I suppress a shiver. I had a master plan all figured out, one where I put Nathan through the paces by remaining formal and aloof. One compliment shouldn’t melt me into a gooey puddle, but my body can’t help responding to his words.

Still, I can’t let him see how much his adoration makes me want to give him everything he wants tonight.

So, I smirk, meeting his gaze. “I know that.”

I know he likes my answer when a predatory smile crosses his lips. His fingers run down my spine and keep moving, all the way down my hips and my ass, and he starts rocking me against his hardness.

“Do you, now? Go on, show me.” He reclines against the backrest… relaxed and expectant. As though we’ve done this many times before.

His dominance is a huge turn-on for me, and the way he moves me against him, unerringly hitting my clit with the perfect amount of pressure makes me want to give up all control and just do whatever he says. To let him do whatever he wants to me.

I bite my lip in excitement as I slowly lower the straps of my dress, exposing my full breasts to his hungry gaze.

“Fuck, Theresa.”

The lust I see in his gaze makes my core pulse with need, and I feel another surge of wetness slip through my folds.

He’s barely even touched me, and I’m already this far gone.

And then, his fingertips stroke the soft globes of my breasts but avoid the tight, aching peaks, even when I arch my back, inviting him to do as he likes.

Before long, I’m panting, unable to bear the torture any longer. I want his hands on my nipples more than I want my next breath, so I beg. “Nathan, please, touch me.”

“You’re so beautiful when you beg. But you’ll go first. Take my cock out,” he orders in a gruff voice that instantly makes the remaining vestiges of my failed plan to act unaffected by him disappear into oblivion.

I obey without thinking, my hands trembling with desire as I undo the top button of his tailored pants and pull down the zipper.

He lifts his hips up slightly to let me pull down his pants and briefs, and then, his cock falls hot and hard against his belly.

Oh, my God.

I gasp. He’s huge. Long and veiny, curving to a point that I bet goes way past his belly button.

As if sensing my intimidation, he puts his hand around my jaw and lifts my flushed face to his. “My turn,” he rasps.

His other hand goes to the apex of my thighs to drag the drenched crotch of my panties aside. Then, still holding my gaze, he very slowly inserts a thick finger into my core, wrenching a ragged moan from deep within me.

“So fucking drenched. You feel beautiful hugging my finger, Tess.”

My whole body trembles as my eyelids flutter closed. I’m fighting to keep still and not eagerly fuck myself on that finger that’s gliding in and out of me.

“So, tell me, baby,” he says conversationally as he finger fucks me, “how long have you wanted me to touch you like this?”

My eyes fly open. Is he asking how long I’ve had a crush on him? “Nathan—”

“How long have you wanted my cock? Touched yourself here wishing that it was me instead?”

“I-I—” My face and chest go beet-red, and I’m grateful that it’s dark. I could say five years, but I’m too amped up to sell the lie. He would see right through my act, anyway. I decide that it’s better not to say anything at all.

His thumb presses against my clit, and I tremble as he strums the swollen nub until my mouth goes slack and my moans get louder. Then, he stops. That gets my attention.

When I open my eyes, I see that he’s watching me, still waiting for an answer.

“When, Tessa? Since the night of the Citrus Fest?”

I shake my head. Might as well be honest since the faster I respond, the faster he’ll get back to touching me. “Before then.”

He starts moving his fingers again.

He’s really good with his hands. Like he knows exactly where and how to touch me. Maybe because he’s a doctor?

And then, I can’t think anymore as he presses against a spot that makes my breath seize. Goosebumps cover my entire body, and I let out another moan as the pleasure floods through me, numbing my brain. I forget to feel self-conscious this time as the words pour out of me.

“It was way back since high school. Since the first day I saw you,” I whisper in a cracked voice.

His quick gasp could signify surprise or disbelief. Or both.

He freezes.

“Don’t stop,” I moan, needing more friction against the tightening knot in my core, but instead of giving me what I need, he takes his hand away from me.

My lids fly open, and just when I’m about to demand to know what his game is, I find him watching me, his expression a mix of desire and… horror.

A part of me always wondered if, all the while, he had some idea how hard I was crushing on him. I see now that he really had no clue.

Oh shit. Is he… freaking out?

Somehow, his reaction to my revelation makes me crave him more. My gaze locks on to his. “Nathan, please ” I whimper, “I need you.”

I think I’d die if he decides to stop now. Or kill him if he tried to.

After what seems like ages, which could have been mere seconds, his initial shock dissipates, leaving only lust etched on his features. He slowly captures one of my hands and drags it down to wrap it around his straining cock. “It’s all yours. Take it and fuck yourself with it.”

His words ignite a fire that burns away all the shame I felt just now. I scramble up to my knees, tuck the head of his cock against my folds, then push down about an inch.

His size makes me gasp, and my first instinct is to rear back. But he doesn’t let me. He holds me still, hugging me against him as he rains open-mouthed kisses against my neck and collarbone.

“Easy there, Tess.”

He continues kissing a path down to my breast until he takes a taut nipple in his mouth and sucks strongly. I gasp and arch to give him more.

His hand cups my other breast, his thumb and index finger tugging on my nipple and ending with gentle pinches that makes my pussy clench against him, greedily seeking more of his invading girth. I push down another inch and moan.

“Too big for you?” he murmurs silkily.

Yes, it is .

Not wanting to risk him stopping, I shake my head in a frantic no.

I want him so bad, I’m delirious with the need to have him fuck that relentless, achy knot inside me that makes me want to scream.

“Good. So, you’ll take all of me like the naughty girl you are, then.”

He wraps a strong arm around my waist, then slams me down onto his cock.

“Ah, God! Nathan!” I scream. Realizing too late that his chauffeur is probably getting an earful, I shove my face into his neck to muffle the sounds coming out of me.

The stretch, the tightening, the bite of pain, and the mind-blowing pleasure make me jerk and writhe against him, even though he’s holding himself very still inside me.

“You okay?”

I only moan in response.

“Go on then. Make yourself come.”

“I c-can’t.” I’m a trembling mess, and my knees already feel like jelly. “You do it, Nathan. Fuck me hard,” I whine in a voice I hardly recognize.

And even though I’m barely going to be able to walk tomorrow, I know it’ll be so good that I’ll thank myself for letting him do this to me.

“Bossy, little thing, aren’t you?” He smacks my ass, triggering another clench of my pussy against him as a gasp bursts from me.

I've never been spanked before and I can't work out why it hurt but also sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. I immediately want him to repeat it.

As if reading my mind, he spanks me again. And again, carrying on until I'm moaning and grinding against his cock. My ass feels hot and tingly, and I’m riding on the cusp of orgasm.

Oh fuck, I won't be able to walk or sit tomorrow.

How does he know exactly what to do to drive me insane?

He grabs my tender ass and lifts me slightly up, then he starts to rock upwards into me, slowly at first, then picking up his pace as I get even more slippery.

And then, he’s slamming up into me, maneuvering me in a way that grinds my swollen clit against his pelvis. All the while, I’m crying out his name, begging him to keep going.

He does. Until I’m gasping, and my core is rippling with the insane amount of pleasure that is spreading outwards onto my skin, which already feels like a hundred feathers are running against it. He doesn’t even stop to let me catch my breath.

My orgasm doesn’t take long to hit, ridding me of thought, of awareness of my being. Of everything except the man who is filling me like he was made for me.

Nathan holds me firmly and fucks me through my orgasm and straight into another one. All I can do is hold on for dear life—and scream like a banshee.

When his breath gets choppier and his thrusts get faster and shallower, I know he’s going to come. “Tessa,” he growls, trying to lift me off him.

I tighten my arms and thighs against him, not wanting to let go of that delicious girth for a single second. I want everything Nathan has to give.

“No, I want it all, Nathan.” I’m all but sobbing with desire.

With a loud, pained grunt, he shudders, then spills himself into me. My walls contract around him, as I feel his cock spurting in release. I close my eyes against the intense wave of euphoria, unable to stop trembling like a leaf.

Finally, my breathing slows, so I drag in a deep breath. And another.

This— he’s too much. Who the hell called this man a monk? He’s a sex fiend. Nathan King knows exactly what he’s doing in the sack.

“I should have done this ages ago,” he says around a grunt, his fingers slipping themselves around my neck as he pumps into me a final time.

I whimper in response, unable to think beyond the fact that sex has never felt this way before. Ever.

It must be that my brain has recognized Nathan as the one I’ve been fantasizing about for over a decade, so it amplified the sensations a hundredfold because, fuck.

And as Nathan’s arms enclose around me as I struggle to regain control of my trembling body, one thing stands out clearly in my head.

How will I keep saying no to him ?