Page 31 of Tempting Kat (Lust & Luxury #2)

Conrad

S he stands there staring at me, her mouth open but no words coming out. The raw shock on Kat's face would be satisfying if I wasn't so goddamn furious right now.

Not at her. At myself. At this whole fucked-up situation.

This isn't how I wanted her to find out about Contessa. I'd planned to tell her properly, maybe over dinner, to ease her into the idea that I have a daughter. But now it's out there, messy and chaotic—just like everything with Katarina and me.

“Say something,” I demand, my voice rough.

She just stares at me, a simmering anger building behind her eyes. I can practically see her mind racing.

The silence stretches between us like a rubber band pulled too tight. I can't fucking take it anymore.

“Goddammit, Katarina!” I snap, crossing the distance between us in two strides.

Before she can react, I grab her waist and hoist her over my shoulder in one fluid motion. Her ass is right by my face, those gray shorts barely covering anything. Even pissed off, I can't help but give her a hard smack.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shrieks, pounding her fists against my back.

“Everything,” I growl, striding out of the gym. “You just fuck with my head constantly.”

I stomp down the hallway, her weight nothing against my shoulder. Her body bounces with each heavy step I take, and I can feel her trying to wiggle free.

“Put me down, you fucking caveman!” she demands, but I ignore her.

“We're not done with this conversation,” I tell her, heading down the staircase. “But I need to show you something first.”

“I swear to god, Conrad, if your idea of conflict resolution is your dick?—”

I land my palm hard across her ass again, the crack of it echoing in the stairwell. “Mind your fucking mouth, Katarina. Unless you want it filled with something that'll shut you up.”

She gasps, going still for just a second before resuming her struggle. “You did not just spank me whil?—”

Another smack, harder this time. Her flesh jiggles under my hand, and I feel my cock stiffen at the sight of the red imprint I've left.

“That’s three, keep it up. Remember when I told you I was having a special room built?” I ask, adjusting her on my shoulder as I reach the door at the end of the hall.

She stops struggling momentarily. “The…glory hole room?”

“That's right.” I push open the door and finally set her down on her feet, keeping my hands on her waist to steady her. “It's finished, and we’re going to break it in. Right fucking now.”

Kat's eyes widen as she takes in the space. The room is dimly lit with recessed lighting that can be adjusted from bright to almost non-existent. I've spared no expense on this space, making sure every detail is exactly how I wanted it.

The main area is minimalist, with a plush chaise lounge positioned perfectly in front of the partition wall. The wall itself is a masterpiece of engineering—solid enough for support but with the perfect opening at just the right height.

“Plain white walls,” I murmur against her ear, feeling her shiver. “I had them done that way on purpose. They're yours to design, paint, draw on—whatever the fuck you want. Your canvas.”

She turns her head slightly, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “My canvas?”

“This is your space too,” I tell her, my voice rough with need. “I want you to make it yours.”

Her fingers trace along the pristine white wall nearest to us, and I can almost see the gears turning in her head, imagining what she could create here.

“The lounge is custom,” I continue, guiding her toward the luxurious chaise. “Highest-grade leather, reinforced frame. It'll hold up to whatever we do on it.”

Kat's breathing changes subtly—getting shallower, faster. She's still pissed at me, but she's also turned on. I know her body better than she thinks I do.

“Look up,” I command.

She tilts her head back, and I watch her eyes widen as she notices the massive mirror covering the entire ceiling. From this angle, the partition wall doesn't reach all the way up—it's designed that way deliberately.

“Jesus,” she breathes. “So I can...”

“Watch me fuck you through the hole,” I finish for her. “See every inch of my cock disappearing inside you. Watch yourself take it.”

Her pupils dilate, and I can feel a slight tremble in her body. She's fucking furious with me, but her body can't hide how much this turns her on.

“You're still an asshole,” she says, but there's less heat in her words now.

“I know,” I agree, spinning her around to face me. My hand slides up to her throat, not squeezing yet, just resting there. “But I'm your asshole.”

I back her up slowly until her legs hit the chaise lounge. Her breathing quickens under my palm, her pulse racing against my fingertips. This is what she needs right now—to let go, to surrender control, to feel owned.

“You like when I hold you like this,” I say, not a question but a statement of fact. My fingers press slightly on the sides of her neck, careful to avoid her windpipe. “When I control your breath. Your pleasure. Everything.”

“Fuck you,” she whispers, but her eyes are glazing over with that look I know so well.

“You know what to do if you want me to stop,” I remind her. We established this weeks ago—three taps means stop immediately. “But you don't want me to stop, do you?”

Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I maintain the pressure. I've learned exactly how she likes this—enough to make her light-headed, to send that rush of endorphins flooding through her system, but never enough to hurt her.

“Conrad,” she gasps, her hands coming up to grip my wrist, not to pull me away but to anchor herself.

“That's right, baby. Feel it.”

I increase the pressure slightly on her neck, watching her eyes roll back as the blood flow reduces just enough to heighten every sensation. My cock strains painfully against my gym shorts as I watch her surrender to me.

“You're so fucking beautiful when you give yourself to me,” I murmur, easing the pressure slightly to let her take a deep breath. “Even when you're pissed at me, your body knows who it belongs to.”

“Daddy,” she whimpers, her hips bucking forward involuntarily.

I slide my thigh between her legs, feeling the heat of her cunt even through the fabric of my shorts. “That's it, baby. Show me how much you need this.”

“Ride my thigh,” I command, my voice a dark rumble. “Show me what a desperate girl you are.”

Her eyes flash with defiance even as her body obeys, grinding down on my muscled thigh. I can feel her getting wetter through the thin material of her shorts.

“That's it. Use me to get yourself off while I take your breath. Enjoy this because after I cum so deep in you and knock you up we won’t be doing this for nine damn months.”

She moans, the sound strangled by my grip on her throat. Her movements become more frantic, more desperate as she humps my leg like a bitch in heat.

“You think about this, don't you?” I growl, leaning in close to her ear. “When you're alone with your fingers in your cunt, you think about me choking you.”

“Yes,” she gasps, the admission torn from her lips.

I ease the pressure for a moment, letting her gulp in air. “Such a filthy girl. Getting off on my leg like an animal.”

Her eyes are glassy now, pupils blown wide with arousal. I can feel her getting slicker against my thigh, her shorts soaked through.

“I know you're fucking dripping,” I say, squeezing again, careful to maintain the right pressure. “Let me see.”

Without releasing her throat, I use my free hand to yank down her shorts. Just as I suspected—no panties. Her pussy is glistening, swollen and pink.

“Look at that pretty cunt,” I praise, sliding my fingers through her folds. “So wet for me. Always so fucking wet.”

I bring my fingers to her lips, making her taste herself. “Suck.”

She obeys instantly, her tongue swirling around my fingers as she continues to grind against my thigh. The sight nearly makes me lose control.

“Fuck, look at you in my sweater,” I growl, releasing her throat to grip her hips. “Seeing you in my clothes does something to me. Makes me want to fucking mark you even more. Mark you permanently. Make you a mommy.”

Her eyes flash with heat as she grinds harder against my thigh, her slick cunt leaving a wet trail on my skin.

“You like that?” I ask, watching her face contort with pleasure. “Like wearing my clothes? Like having my scent all over you? Like the way I talk about breeding you?”

“Yes,” she gasps, her movements becoming more frantic. “God, yes.”

I grip her ass, helping her ride my thigh harder. “That's it, baby. Use me. Get yourself off. Show me how much you fucking need it.”

She's shameless now, past the point of pride or anger, rutting against me. Her head falls back, exposing the delicate line of her throat where my fingers left faint impression marks.

Her whole body goes rigid, then starts to shake as she comes, grinding her clit against my thigh. Her mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes rolling back as the orgasm tears through her.

While she's still trembling with aftershocks, I strip the sweater off her, then peel her soaked shorts down her legs. She's pliant in my hands, still riding the high of her orgasm.

I maneuver her until her lower half is aligned with the opening in the wall, her pussy and ass perfectly framed by the hole.

“Perfect,” I murmur, running my hands over the curve of her hip. “You know what this means, don't you? You're stuck now. Can't escape.”

I hear her breath catch. “Conrad...”

“I'm going to use this sweet cunt over and over,” I tell her, my voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Going to fill you up until my cum is leaking out of you. And you're going to take it all because you can't fucking move.”

Her body trembles at my words, and little goosebumps dot her flesh.

“You want that, don't you? Want me to breed this tight little hole?”

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.