She shifted her weight, the silk of my shirt sliding across her flesh. The contrast of the white shirt against her dark skin made me lick my lips. She pinned me with a gaze I hadn’t seen before.
“I’m free now. I have access to a lawyer. I have fourteen years of archived data of my daddy’s and stepmother dearest’s dirty deeds.” She paused, her eyes searching mine. “So, if I stay… if I keep you close… it isn’t because I have to. It’s because I want to. Don’t you want me to want you, future husband?”
A week ago, I hadn’t wanted to get married at all. I was doing it out of obligation. Duty. A dying man’s last request. Now—her calling me husband did something violent to my chest.
I let go of her wrist and slid my hand up her arm, over the soft fabric of the sleeve, until my palm rested against the back of her neck. “You’re a dangerous woman, Little Ghost.”
She laughed—a real laugh, low and warm. “Life has taught me I have to be.”
She shifted, swinging one leg over my hips, then the other, until she was straddling me. I noticed she liked this position; I saw it for what it was—a play for power, a way to put herself in total control. After fourteen years of being told when to sit, when to eat, and when to be silent, she was testing her own command. I let her have it. I wanted her right where she was.
I could feel the heat of her pussy, the damp, velvet warmth—pressing into me through the thin barrier of my boxers. My hands found her hips, my fingers pressing into her soft flesh. I groaned, the sound vibrating from my chest into hers.
She kissed me first—deep, her tongue fucking my mouth while she started rolling her hips. Her soaked pussy dragged along the entire length of my dick until it slipped out of the boxers, and she was coating every inch of my shaft in her arousal. She was so wet.
My hands slid up her back, skin dragging against skin, pulling her closer. I fisted her hair and yanked her head back to expose her pulse. I dragged my teeth down her throat, savoring the salt of her skin.
The feeling was agonizing. Every slide of her heat against my skin made my vision blur. I wanted to flip her over, to slam into her and end the torture, but I forced my hands to stay on her hips.
Suddenly she snatched herself from my grip, shoved me back, and braced her hands on my chest. She leaned forward, grinding harder. Her swollen clit rubbed relentlessly against the underside of my cock as she rocked back and forth, faster and faster. Her pussy lips parted around my thickness, hugging the sides of my shaft.
Keeping myself from shifting and pushing into her was maddening. I let her take what she needed. She turned frantic. She was close. I gripped her chin and held her in place so I could watch the ecstasy fracture her face.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I whispered against her lips, my voice sounding dark to my own ears. Her body was trembling. “You’re doing so good. Take your pleasure. Take it all. Take every bit of it.”
I watched her eyes roll back, her fingers clawing at my shoulders, and the pride I felt was almost as intense as the friction. She was mine, she was cumming on me, for me, and she was doing it perfectly.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Boss.” Cartier’s voice was muffled through the door. “Your grandpa’s assistant called. The jet landed. We need to be wheels up in two hours.”
Chloe pulled back, her lips still hovering over mine. Her chest rose and fell heavily against me. I groaned—for an entirely different reason this time.
“Tell them we’ll be there,” I called out, my voice rougher than I intended.
“Copy.” His footsteps faded down the hallway.
Chloe looked down at me, her dark eyes heavy-lidded, her lips swollen from the kiss. The shirt had slipped off one shoulder completely now.
“We should probably get dressed,” she said.
“Probably.”
Neither of us moved. The air between us was thick, charged with the aftershocks of her release. I had a question that was starting to taste like poison. I hesitated, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know about Caspian. My skin crawled at the thought of him being the one who taught her how to move like that. I didn’t want to know, but I had to.
“How did you learn that?” I finally asked. My voice cracked slightly. I could hear myself—I sounded like the inexperienced one, like a boy stumbling over his words. I cleared my throat, forcing the gravel back into my tone. “The sexual stuff. You just… you fucked yourself on me like you’ve been doing it your whole life. Who taught you to move like that?”
Chloe didn’t look away. A slow, playful smirk pulled at the corner of her swollen lips—an expression that was a far cry from the fragile “Little Ghost” I’d rescued.
“The tablet, Killian,” she said simply.
I blinked. “The tablet?”
“I had a lot of time on my hands in that room. I watched a lot of porn. Especially when I knew you were coming to visit. I figured if I was going to gamble everything on you, I should probably know how to keep your attention.”
I felt the heat climb up my neck. I was relieved, but I didn’t like that she admitted it so easily. “You really studied for me? Like it was a goddamn exam?”
“Does it bother you?” she teased, her fingers trailing light circles over the pulse point at my wrist.
