Page 16 of Tempting Kat (Lust & Luxury #2)
Conrad
I 'm so fucking hard I can barely think. My cock strains painfully against my jeans as I adjust myself, trying to find some relief that isn't an orgasm. Not until I'm buried inside her.
Because what’s a little more torture, I’ve already been through this for months.
Grabbing the scrap of fabric that was her panties, I stuff it in my pocket. A well-deserved trophy. A reminder of what I've claimed and what's still to come.
The smell of her cunt is all over my fingers, my mouth, probably my fucking clothes at this point. She soaked me when she came, drenched me like a goddamn hurricane, and I've never been so turned on in my life.
Stepping out of the room, I pull the door closed behind me, and lean against the wall opposite the door she'll emerge from. My heart pounds in my chest like I'm some teenager about to meet his crush, not a grown man who just had a woman calling him Daddy.
Five minutes pass. Each second feels like torture.
The click of the door latch sends a jolt of anticipation through my spine. This is it. The moment she puts a face to the voice that just made her come apart at the seams.
The door swings open, and there she is—my obsession in the flesh. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is a wild mess, and her makeup is smudged from crying through those orgasms. She's never looked more beautiful.
My gut tightens with a possessiveness so fierce it's almost painful. Mine. All fucking mine.
I lick my lips, still tasting her on them, that sweet-tangy flavor that I could get drunk on. My eyes drag down her body, taking in every detail—the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath, the slight tremble in her hands, the way her skirt barely covers her ass.
When I reach her thighs, I can see the mark I left there, my teeth imprinted on her flesh, peeking out from under her damn skirt. The sight of my claim on her skin makes my cock throb painfully.
Her eyes widen as she takes me in, recognition flooding her features before confusion replaces it. “You've got to be fucking kidding me.”
I push off the wall, taking a step toward her. “Disappointed, kitten?”
She backs up, her hand gripping the doorframe. “You're—you're my Mr. Mysterious. Conrad fucking peach napkin.”
“Conrad Gallo,” I confirm, closing the distance between us. “Though you already knew my name, just not altogether.”
She’s shaking her head. “No. No fucking way. This is some kind of joke. Like where is the camera and who’s making money off this?”
“It's no joke.” I close the distance between us, backing her against the doorframe. “Did you think I was just some random rich guy who happened to be interested in you? I've been watching you for months, Katarina.”
Her eyes narrow, that fire I love so much flaring to life. “Stalking me, you mean? That's fucking creepy.”
“Is it stalking if I own the bar?” I counter, placing one hand on the wall beside her head, caging her in.
Her jaw drops, and she stares at me like I've just told her I'm a fucking alien. Those gorgeous green eyes widen to almost comical proportions.
“You…own Euphoria?” she sputters, her voice rising to a pitch I haven't heard from her before. “What the actual fuck? You've been my boss this whole time?”
I can't help the chuckle that rumbles from my chest. Watching her put the pieces together is almost as satisfying as her coming undone minutes ago.
“Silent owner,” I correct, reaching out to tug gently on a wild strand of hair that's escaped her messy ponytail. “Santiago handles the day-to-day. I just observe.”
“Observe?” She smacks my hand away, but there's no real heat behind it. “You mean spy on your employees like some fucking voyeur?”
I step back, giving her space to breathe. Even in her indignation, she's magnificent.
“Not my employees,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her again. “Just you.”
“Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” she snaps, rolling her eyes. “Just stalking one specific bartender. Totally normal behavior.”
“I never claimed to be normal, kitten.”
Her eyes narrow at the nickname. “Don't call me that here.”
“Why not? You seemed to enjoy it well enough with my face between your thighs.”
The blush that spreads across her cheeks is delicious. “You're such an asshole.”
“So you've mentioned.” I lean against the opposite wall, giving her the illusion of control. “And yet you came three times for this asshole.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, her posture screaming defiance, but I can see the way her thighs press together, still sensitive from my attention.
“I can't believe I didn't figure it out,” she mutters, more to herself than to me. “The expensive bourbon. The corner seat. Always watching. Fuck, you were practically broadcasting 'I own this place' energy.”
“Would it have changed anything if you'd known?” I ask, genuinely curious.
She snorts. “Yeah, I probably would've asked for a raise instead of letting you finger-fuck me in a gloryhole.”
I bark out a laugh, surprised by her candor even though I shouldn't be. “Your honesty is refreshing.”
“Yeah, well, one of us should try it sometime,” she retorts, but there's no real bite to her words. She's annoyed, but not genuinely angry.
She slumps against the wall, suddenly looking exhausted. The adrenaline crash after those intense orgasms is hitting her hard.
“Let me take you home, or Henry can,” I say, softer than before.
“Or,” she says, pushing herself off the wall with visible effort, “perhaps I’ll just take the bus home.”
Something violent rips through me at the thought of her on public transportation in this state.
“Perhaps the fuck you won't, Katarina.” My voice drops to that register I know makes her pussy clench. “You're not getting on a bus with no underwear and my mark on your thigh.”
Her eyes flash with a defiance I love so much. “You don't always get your way, Conrad.”
I step closer, invading her space until she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
“I think you'll find I absolutely do.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip, still swollen from where she bit it while coming.
“Now, you can either take me up on one of my two offers, or I can throw you over my shoulder, take you to a private cabin in the woods, and spank you until all the brattiness is drained out of you.”
Her pupils dilate at the threat, and I can see her throat work as she swallows. “You wouldn't dare.”
“Try me.” I'm dead serious, and she must see it in my eyes because she takes a half-step back.
“Fine,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I'll let your driver take me home.”
I feel a stab of disappointment but hide it well. “Henry, it is.” I pull out my phone and send a quick text. “He'll be out front in two minutes.”
Her phone buzzes, and she pulls it out of her purse, squinting at the screen. I can't help myself—I reach out and snatch it from her hand.
“What the fuck?” she protests as I swipe to unlock it. No passcode. That’s a risky move, but works in my favor.
I navigate to her contacts, adding my name and number. Then I hit call, feeling my own phone vibrate in my pocket. I let it ring once before disconnecting.
“There,” I say, handing it back to her. “Now you have no excuse not to answer when I call.”
She snatches her phone back, glaring at me like I've just committed a felony. “You could have just asked for my number like a normal person.”
I shrug, enjoying how the flush on her cheeks deepens with her irritation. “I could have. Or I could have literally just called Santiago and gotten it. But here we are.”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “Is this how you got so rich? Just taking whatever you want without asking?”
“Pretty much.” I don't bother hiding my smirk. “It's worked out well for me so far.”
She shakes her head, brushing past me toward the exit. “I'm leaving now. Your driver better be there.”
“He will be.” I watch her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips even as she tries to storm off with dignity. “I'll call you tomorrow, Katarina.”
She flips me off without turning around, pushing through the exit door with more force than necessary. The door slams behind her, and I'm left alone in the hallway, the scent of her still clinging to my skin.