Home > First Touch (First and Last #1)(51)

First Touch (First and Last #1)(51)
Author: Laurelin Paige

I wasn’t sure I could fight it even then.

By Saturday, I was desperate to hear from him again. So far he’d proven himself a weekend lover, so if he was going to call, I knew it would be today. Or maybe I just hoped it would be today because it was that dreaded February holiday. The one that saw chocolates and wine overstocked in all the stores. At least those items were as appropriate for self-soothing as they were for gift giving.

I was pouring my second glass of wine when the phone rang, and it was only a little past noon. Maybe that’s why my chest felt funny when I saw the caller ID, but probably not.

“I didn’t expect you to be the leaving type,” Reeve said, skipping a greeting yet again.

“I was eager to take my new car for a ride.” I curled my feet up under me on the couch and delivered my excuses with enough sugar to hopefully hide the truth. “And I had an interview scheduled the next morning. Besides, I figured you for the type to want your space.” None of it was a lie, but mostly I didn’t want him to know that I’d actually panicked and run.

“I appreciate that. But I don’t mind you staying the night. It’s nice to have someone to wake up and fuck on occasion.”

Then he had wanted me to stay. Or he wanted me to in the future. It was sort of charming that he couldn’t say it outright.

“Just no cuddling,” I teased.

“Cuddling allowed on my terms.”

Jesus, how did a reference to cuddling make me so wet? “I’ll stay next time then.”

“Tonight. You’ll stay tonight.”

My heart possibly somersaulted in my chest. “Okay.”

“I have an event I have to attend first. A Valentine’s Ball thing.”

“Yes.” Was he inviting me? He had to be. Who else would he go with and why mention it if he wasn’t going to take me?

Still, Reeve was unpredictable. I held my breath, waiting.

“I can either pick you up on my way home or you can meet me at the house.”

I wasn’t sure whether he meant home from where he was now or if he meant something else. “Pick me up?”

“Yes. It starts at seven so I should be able to leave by eleven. I’d be by your house around eleven-thirty.”

I let out a slow breath, surprised at how let down I was to be the after party instead of the main event. “Uh, I’ll meet you. At your place.”

“Are you sure? You’ll be on my way.”

“I’m sure.” Could he hear the disappointment in my voice? “I have a beautiful car. Shame not to drive it.”

He didn’t have any obligation to me, romantic holiday or not.

Even though Reeve hadn’t claimed me as his date for the night, I dressed up for him. I figured he’d be wearing a tux and it was a holiday. Or maybe I just wanted him to see what he’d missed out on. Either way, a low-cut black sheath cocktail dress seemed appropriate.

It was almost midnight when I arrived and both the gate and the front door opened for me automatically. The employee who greeted me at the house, someone new this time, sent me in then went out the front door behind me.

There was no one in the living area when I walked back, and, except for the light coming from the dining room, the rest of the house was dark. On the table was a coil of rope and a black velvet box. Even several feet away, I knew what kind of box it was. And that made me beyond curious.

I crossed to the table and flipped the top of the box open. My breath caught at the piece of jewelry inside. The chain was silver and simple, but the half-dollar-size sapphire-and-diamond pendant was like something I’d never seen. Something gorgeous and unbelievably expensive.

“Do you like it?”

I startled at Reeve’s approach. Then I stammered because I loved it, and I was sure it wasn’t for me but not sure at the same time.

He reached around me and took the piece from its box. “It’s yours. Turn around.”

Stunned didn’t begin to describe my reaction. Speechless. Dumbfounded. I spun so my back was to him.

He brushed my hair over one shoulder and I held it to the side as he fastened the clasp around my neck. I felt his lips on my bare shoulder where he left a solitary kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered. Then he took the hair I had gathered and tugged it back with a painful yank. “Now you have to earn it.”

He stripped me naked except for the necklace and blindfolded me with a towel he found in the kitchen. He tied me to the dining room table with the rope and spent the next hour – or longer, maybe – teasing me, taunting me. Bruising me, spanking me. Bringing me so close to orgasm then denying my release. I could barely speak, barely form coherent words when he finally climbed on top of me and notched his cock in my cleft.

“Beg,” he said. “You have to beg.”

“Please,” was all I thought I could manage, over and over, but it wasn’t enough for him, and he rocked against me, closing in on his own orgasm without having entered me.

“I’m almost there, Emily. If you want to come with me, better tell me now.”

I fought through the haze of exhaustion and frustration, desperate. So, so desperate. Desperate to the point of rage. “Reeve, you motherfucking asshole. I’m pleading with you for the love of all that is holy, please! Please, put your goddamn cock inside of me and let me come.”

He let out a low chuckle that vibrated through my body. Then he bent down to my ear. “Not what I had in mind, but fucking hot all the same.” He slid inside me and pushed his hips forward so that he knocked against my clit. It was all I needed to send me soaring.

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