Читать книгу The Dare Collection September 2019 - Stefanie London - Страница 23

ELLIE’S MOUTH WAS HOT, her delicate touch against my bare skin making my breath catch.

I shouldn’t have responded. I should have pulled away, especially given what she’d just told me about the prick who’d touched her, who’d hurt her no matter how she’d downplayed it.

Because I was just another prick who would hurt her.

Because that was what I did. I hurt people.

But I couldn’t have pulled away from her in that moment if my life had depended on it.

I’d warned her, though. I’d warned her that if she was going to touch me like this, we’d be having sex. And I was a man of my word.

Despite numerous invitations, I’d never had sex in the company jet—I preferred to keep the line between my company and my pleasure very separate.

Today, I didn’t give a shit about that line.

Her tongue was tentatively exploring me, her nails beginning to dig into my biceps. She tasted so sweet, strawberries on a summer day, and the heat of her body was temptation incarnate.

She was wearing shorts today, instead of her uniform. Just a simple pair of blue denim shorts, with a green T-shirt. Nothing spectacular.

Yet I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her.

I’d had to busy myself with a whole lot of business just to stop myself from gaping at her like a love-struck teenager. I’d thought I’d had myself well in hand. But when she’d started talking about her family’s company, about the situation with the harassment and some motherfucker who thought he could touch her; about how her father had paid that prick off instead of supporting his daughter...

I’d wanted to kill someone over that.

If either her father or the prick who’d touched her had been there I think I would have literally strangled them.

But since they weren’t, I’d have to take the sex.

What a fucking hardship.

I shouldn’t touch her again, but she was kissing me quite desperately and I couldn’t refuse her. I didn’t want to refuse her.

I lifted my hands to her face, sliding my fingers along her delicate jaw, her skin silky and soft beneath my fingertips.

A kiss was great. But her mouth wasn’t where I wanted to kiss her.

Holding her carefully, I pulled away.

She blinked, her eyes a pure dark gold, looking at me as if she’d never wanted anything so badly.

My cock, already hard, ached like a bastard.

‘Lie back,’ I ordered. ‘Let me give you something.’

‘But I—’

‘I’m not asking.’

As I expected, the order ignited her fighting spirit. ‘Oh? You think you’re driving again?’

‘Yes.’ I dropped my hands to her bare thighs, stroking, her skin just as silky and warm as her jaw had been. ‘And as I recall, you very much enjoyed it when I drove the last time.’

She was already a very pretty shade of pink, and when I stroked her again she went even pinker. ‘But I’m always the driver.’

‘I know. So let me do the work for once.’ I kept my gaze on hers as I reached for the buttons of her shorts, watching her reaction. ‘All you need to do is lie back and enjoy the ride.’

‘Oh.’ She chewed on her bottom lip a moment as if considering it. Then she let out a breath. ‘Well, I guess when you put it like that.’ Slowly she sat back in her seat.

Raw triumph flooded through me, along with something a little more uncomfortable. Because she wasn’t one of my socialites, or an aristocrat I could sully. She was different. She was a fighter who was conceding me the advantage by choice. Because she trusted me. Even after that arsehole had hurt her, she trusted me.

The heady eroticism of the knowledge caught me by the throat at the same time as it unsettled me.

I had no idea why she would trust me, even why she had the night in the limo in Paris, especially given what kind of man I was.

You’re not good enough for her. You’re not good enough for anyone.

I shoved that thought away. This wasn’t about me. This was about her. About giving her pleasure and making sure she’d never regret the trust she put in me.

I undid the button of her shorts and pulled down the zip. Then I slid my hands into the waistband and began to ease the denim down, taking her underwear with it, watching her face the whole time.

Her gaze had darkened, but I didn’t miss the hint of uncertainty in it.

I stopped. ‘What? Changed your mind?’

‘No.’ She sounded sure, at least. ‘I haven’t changed my mind. But...’ She glanced at the door that led to the galley and cockpit. ‘No one’s going to interrupt?’

My tense muscles relaxed. Thank fuck for that. Shyness I could deal with.

‘My staff know better than that,’ I said. ‘I like to do work when I fly long distance so they leave me alone. No one’s even going to knock for another couple of hours.’

‘Oh, good.’ She gave me a small smile, her flush deepening beautifully. ‘I didn’t much care about it in the limo, but this is... I don’t know, different.’

She was right. This was different. Because this wasn’t us being at the mercy of our chemistry. This was us being very purposeful.

This was me doing something for her.

I wasn’t used to reassuring people, but I tried. ‘Don’t worry. I would have told the stewardess to stay put if I thought it would be a problem.’

Her uncertainty melted away entirely. ‘Okay, good. Well...’ She lifted her hips. ‘Come on. Get going.’

Impatient girl.

I was generally a selfish man but not sexually, and especially not now, with her. This was about what Ellie wanted. And I was going to give it to her. Slowly.

I tightened my grip on the fabric still covering her and tugged it down, easing it over her butt, down her thighs and off, before discarding it onto the floor of the cabin.

She’d gone the loveliest shade of pink and I put my hands on the armrests of her seat, taking a moment to look at her, because she was a fucking gorgeous sight. All silky pale skin and the dark nest of curls between her thighs.

The pink became scarlet as a tide of red washed over her skin and her hands lifted as if to cover herself, but I caught her wrists before she could, gripping and holding them lightly. ‘You don’t want me to look?’

She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t pull away. ‘No... I just... Mark used to look at me and I didn’t like it.’

‘I’m not Mark.’

‘No, I know, but I—’

I released one wrist and caught her chin in my fingers, holding her so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. ‘I’m not Mark,’ I repeated. ‘And this is different, understand? Yes, I like to be in charge, but the only reason I am is because you’re letting me.’ I tightened my grip, because this was important. No, this was vital. ‘You have the power here, pretty thing. And you have it because your pleasure matters. It didn’t matter to him, not one fucking iota. But it matters to me.’

She didn’t say anything, her attention focused on me as if she’d never seen me before in her entire life. And that made my cock even harder, my body liking the way she was staring at me very much indeed.

‘Let me look,’ I went on, letting her see the desire in my gaze. ‘Because you’re beautiful and I like looking at you. And I think there’s a part of you that likes me looking at you, too. A part that you don’t want to let yourself acknowledge.’

Emotions flickered through her expressive face, gone so fast that I couldn’t decipher them. But then I felt the slight resistance drain from her arms, her wrist going lax in my grip. And she eased herself back in the seat, her chin lifting, the expression glowing in her eyes very clear now. A challenge. Because of course, she was a fighter.

‘Shall I show you how much you like it, then?’ I asked, to be certain.

She lifted a shoulder, as if she didn’t much care. But the gold flames in her eyes told a different story.

So I let go of her wrists and reached for the hem of her T-shirt, tugging gently on the fabric to indicate what I wanted, keeping my attention on her face.

Another flicker of uncertainty, but then she leaned forward and slowly raised her arms, letting me pull the cotton up and over her head, taking her bra with it, so at last she was sitting in her seat completely naked.

Then I put my hands on the armrests again and I looked, taking my time, letting my gaze track down, over the slight, sweet curves of her perfect tits with their pretty pink and rapidly hardening nipples. Then the graceful indentation of her waist and the curving plane of her stomach. Down further to the flare of her hips and her rounded thighs.

Beautiful. Absolutely fucking beautiful.

She trembled, but didn’t move. Didn’t cover herself. She’d gone bright red, but she didn’t look away, either.

Brave girl.

But I wanted to see more.

I put my hands on her knees, spreading them apart, watching for any sign of resistance, but there was none. So I pushed them wider, my gaze falling hungrily to the tantalising nest of dark curls and pink flesh.

So fucking pretty. And she was wet, too, I could see the slick gleam of moisture on her skin.

Desire pulsed through me, thick and hot, the ache in my groin becoming demanding.

‘Yes,’ I said roughly. ‘You like me looking at you, don’t you?’

She shifted on the seat, her chin lifting higher. ‘Maybe. And so?’

‘So?’ I let the hunger show in my voice, throwing the challenge right back at her. ‘Show me more. Show me that pretty little pussy of yours.’ I rested my weight on my hands and leaned in, the scent of her arousal sweet and musky in the air, the heat of her body making me ache to touch her. ‘Show me how wet you are.’

Her skin was a fiery red, but her chin firmed, the gold in her gaze leaping higher.

Desire wrapped its hands around my throat, choking me, because if that wasn’t the look of a woman accepting a challenge, I didn’t know what was.

Christ, she had courage. And a backbone of pure steel.

She lifted her hands and then—little witch—put them on her hips, sliding them down slowly and watching me as she did so, as if gauging my response. I didn’t hold back, showing her what her sexy show was doing to me and she liked that. She liked that a lot, desire flickering over her face as she stared at me.

As if that was a goad, she slid her hands lower, between her spread thighs, her fingers firm on her own slick flesh as she gently eased apart the wet, pink folds of her pussy, holding them there.

My fingers dug into the leather of the armrests, the need to dive right in, put my mouth on her, my hands on her, almost all-consuming. I ached like a motherfucker and my mouth watered. But I stayed where I was, enjoying the view.

‘Beautiful.’ My voice had gone low and rough. ‘All pink and wet. You really like me looking, don’t you?’

She shivered, her breathing uneven, her gaze hot and focused on mine. ‘Yes. Seen enough, yet?’

‘No, not nearly enough.’ I glanced down at the lovely sight of her spread thighs, at the petal pink of her sex and the gleam of moisture on her skin, the sheen of it on her fingers. ‘Is this all for me?’

‘Y-yes,’ she said thickly.

My own heartbeat was loud in my head, a thudding, insistent rhythm. I was used to taking what I wanted when I wanted it. I never had to wait. But now, here with her, I wanted to.

If it added to her pleasure I’d wait till kingdom fucking come.

I met her hazel eyes. ‘And what would you like me to do about it?’