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But that thought dissolves under the swarm of kisses that he places against my neck and he's turning me, pulling me to him, dragging us both down onto the carpet. And then I can only think of one thing, just one thing as he pushes my knees apart and he's back inside me, owning me, making me beg him to crush the

breath out of me.

Just one thought.

King.

Chapter 16

Raleigh

When I arrive back at our flat, she is standing just beyond the foyer wearing the dress I had delivered. It cascades from her shoulders in a waterfall of crystals and shimmering silver mesh. She pivots slightly to the left and the right, her elbows held out from her sides.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we won't leave the flat,” I warn her.

“It's beautiful,” she sighs. “I almost couldn't believe it when I opened the box. How did you find this? Did you have it made for me or something?”

I glide toward her, already imagining pulling the dress off. I can almost feel the crystals under my fingertips, the way that they would nip at my skin as I undressed her. I could have her naked in four seconds. I would be a shame to shred a $12,000 dress, but some things are worth doing.

“Remember that little shop? The Rodarte?”

She nods slowly. A small curl of hair dislodges itself from her updo and bounces prettily against her forehead.

“Are you saying they remembered me? My size and everything?”

“You made quite an impression on them.”

As she's breathing, I can see the pale shadow under her nipples as they move beneath the fabric. It's extremely distracting.

“We should be going,” I grunt, aware that it's early but afraid of what I will do if we delay anymore.

She picks up a beaded handbag off the side table. “Where are we going?”

She turns her back to me so that I can fasten the vintage mink stole over her creamy, narrow shoulders. The scent of her perfume wafts into my mouth and again I feel that surge of ravenous hunger building inside me. I vow to get her through the event as quickly as possible and then get her somewhere we can be alone.

“Just a work thing, darling.”

Her shoulders slump slightly beneath my hands. “A work thing?”

She pivots to face me and raises her eyes toward mine. What was she expecting?

“Yes, Little Girl, a work thing. That's what I do. I work. Promise me to be on your best behavior.”

She smirks, sucking her lower lip between her teeth and biting it because she's knows I'm enchanted by her. By now she knows everything: how I watch her. How I want her. How everything in my life has been reorganized to revolve around her.

“One day, I'll be taking you to my ‘work thing,’” she says with a frown. “I’ll keep you on a leash and trot you around the outside like a little pony. Will that be all right with you?”

“Oh really, is that so?” I counter. “Mr. King is nobody's pony.”

“No?” she pouts, her lower lip gleaming with wetness. “Not even for me?”

“All right, all right, that's enough of that,” I chide her gently. She allows me to direct her with my fingertips toward the door and I adjust my still-throbbing cock in my pants, silently promising it that we will have satisfaction before the night is over.

But she is pleased, I can tell, when the car lets us out in front of the glass pyramid of the Louvre. The entire patio glitters, lit from within by a million tiny lights. Being Paris, of course everyone is decked out like a fairytale. And yet, I've got the fairytale Princess right here on my arm, so what could go wrong?

She didn't talk much on the way over, though, so I'm grateful to see that her eyes are alight with curiosity and expectation. I feel all eyes upon us as we slowly promenade around the perimeter of the gathering, taking its measure before diving in for the few business contacts I have to communicate with before we can leave.

The ladies are fine and beautiful, of course, and the gentlemen all in natty, bespoke suits and the occasional conversation piece like a walking cane or cigarette on a long, tortoiseshell holder. Jordan grips my hand tightly, walking with a graceful, practiced gait but allowing just that bit of tension in her fingers to let me know how excited she really is.


Tags: Jess Bentley Erotic