NATHAN’S BUILDING is a high rise on the coast with valet parking, four doormen and a swanky lobby. My head is already swirling from the glass of wine I drank and the way Nathan dragged me out of the restaurant before we even ate dinner. The way he kissed me… the way he kept turning the conversation back to me. He’s relentless when he wants something and it’s clear that what he wants now is me.
God, this is what I want. A bossy, dominant man who is confident and knows exactly what he’s doing to me, but who is also tuned in to me, who wants to take care of me at the same time he wants to do unspeakably dirty things to me.
He hasn’t said that. It would seem out of character I suppose for him to say something like I want to take care of you, but everything Nathan does seems focused on making me happy. Whether it’s his hand on my back as we walk, holding doors for me, telling me I look beautiful, feeding me, or making me so hot and needy I can barely walk on my shaking legs.
As we exit the car, I’m very aware that I’m not wearing panties. They’re still tucked in Nathan’s pocket and every step creates a friction that only adds to the painful ache deep in my core. I can’t wait to get up to his apartment so he can make it go away in the most intense and delicious way possible.
I know he will. Nathan won’t stop until I’ve come multiple times. That determination has been firmly etched on his face all evening in every confident and bold statement he’s made.
“Good evening, Mr. Armstrong,” one of the doormen says as he holds the shiny glass door open for us. “Miss.” He nods his head toward me.
The doorman looks to be in his sixties and has bushy brows and a warm smile.
“Good evening, Christopher,” Nathan says. “This is Danielle. Danielle, my overly formal head doorman.” He turns back to Christopher. “One of these days I’m going to convince you to drop the whole Mr. Armstrong bit and just call me Nathan.”
“Today is not that day, Mr. Armstrong,” Christopher says with a grin. “How was your dinner?”
“Excellent. How’s your wife? Is her hip still bothering her?”
They chat a bit about Dorothea’s post-surgery recovery. I’m impressed that Nathan has stopped to speak with the doorman and that he seems genuinely interested in Dorothea’s recovery from surgery.
There is more to Nathan than he lets on, as is evidenced by the way he tried to deflect my attention from his personal life over and over during dinner. His teen years must have been difficult, grieving the loss of his parents. I’m sure he learned the coping mechanism then that he uses now—to change the subject. He’s afraid of being vulnerable, that’s obvious, and I feel privileged to be someone he’s confided in, in any way. Even if I had to drag it out of him. Even if his delivery was clipped and lacking in emotion.
I don’t take it lightly. It makes me feel that he trusts me.
“Mr. Armstrong is a good man,” Christopher tells me. “He paid for my wife’s physical therapy when our insurance maxed out.”
For some reason, that doesn’t actually surprise me. “Really? That’s very thoughtful of him.”
Nathan looks a little embarrassed to have his generosity revealed though.
He’s scowling at Christopher.
I wonder if he realizes what a grump he looks like half the time.
It doesn’t make him any less attractive to me. If anything, now that I’ve learned a tiny bit more about him, his growlyness is even sexier.
I’m sure the money doesn’t matter to Nathan, not really. He has billions of dollars. But he’s taking a human interest in his doorman, and I find that incredibly appealing.
God, he’s just so hot.
I really, really want to get naked with him as soon as possible.
“But I’m sure you already know he’s a great guy or you wouldn’t be here. Mr. Armstrong never brings women up to his penthouse. You must be something special.”
Now that’s an interesting tidbit of information.
“Is that so?” I ask, more delighted than I should be. I don’t imagine for one minute Nathan is celibate, so why isn’t he bringing women home? He must go to their apartments or book a hotel. I look straight at Nathan, fighting the urge to grin. “I do feel special.”
The scowl has turned up a notch. It’s a full-fledged glare.
As if he can intimidate the doorman into zipping his mouth shut and me into continuing to believe he’s just a rich guy with an empty hole in his chest where his heart should be.
I’m not even exaggerating. I’m pleased that he’s allowing me into his home. Which means I need to pump the brakes on my runaway emotions. None of this means he wants more than one night.
Who says we’re going to keep going with whatever this is?
The words had been rude and had made me question if tonight was wise. But then I realized at least he’s honest. I can appreciate that. I know exactly what I’m getting.
Sex with Nathan. Tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.
I’ve never had a one-night stand, but damn Nathan Armstrong is an excellent choice to start with. I can’t wait to see what dirty and delicious things an intense and experienced older man can do to me.
It would be so easy to get swept up into Nathan. His demanding words, his confident touch, his grand gestures. But this is not about catching feelings for Nathan, and I might need to remind myself of that once or twelve times over the next few hours.
“If I ever want to run for a political office, I’ll hire you to run my campaign,” Nathan tells Christopher dryly. “You lay on the bullshit pretty thick.”
Now I don’t know what to believe about the other women not going up to his apartment, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Every woman in Chicago could have been in Nathan’s bed before tonight and I’m still going to take my spot as next in line.
Surely Nathan knew he could easily seduce me. But he’s chosen to pamper and spoil me tonight. Well, even before tonight. The ice cream from Franklin was over the top. But I’ll just accept all of it, enjoy it, and not overanalyze it.
Christopher laughs. “Have a great night, sir.”
“Oh, I absolutely intend to,” Nathan says. His voice is low and edged with a hard lust that makes my cheeks, and the rest of my body, burn.
The elevator doors aren’t even closed before Nathan stalks toward me.
A shiver of anticipation rolls through me as he backs me up against the wall, boxing me in with his muscular body. It always feels like the air is charged between us when he’s this close to me. Or across the dinner table. Or in a car together. As if a summer storm is about to be unleashed. I watch him silently, pressing my thighs together against the yearning I feel in my bare pussy as he moves teasingly toward me, leaning in so slowly it’s maddening.
Then his mouth covers mine and there is nothing slow about it. It’s commanding, powerful, dominating. He kisses me with rough, urgent presses on my lips as his hands slip around to grip my ass through my dress, squeezing with enough pressure to make me gasp.
He yanks my hip up so that my dress slides toward my waist and my leg is resting on his thigh. I would be worried about security cameras and what they can see except he’s pressed over me, a shield that covers my bare sex. He grinds me against his hard cock and I gasp, a surge of hot wet arousal soaking into the front of his pants.
Nathan growls, reaching a hand down to slip it in between us. He teases over my dampness and strokes my clit. A moan escapes me.
“I can’t wait to fuck you, Danielle. If this elevator doesn’t go any faster, I’ll be forced to take you right here,” he says.
I wouldn’t even object. But the doors choose that moment to slide open and Nathan tugs me forward. The elevator goes directly into his apartment and as Nathan strips off his suit jacket, I peel away from him, needing to catch my breath. I head straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Wow, Nathan, this is just incredible.” I take in the sweeping views of the coastline and the inky darkness of Lake Michigan beyond it. During the day, it must be breathtaking. I glance over my shoulder at the spacious and luxurious apartment with a sleek and modern gourmet kitchen. “This is an amazing apartment.”
“You like it? It’s yours,” Nathan says, moving in beside me and shifting my hair back to kiss the back of my neck. “You can have it.”
“What?” I laugh softly, bemused. He’s very over-the-top sometimes and obviously not serious. “You’re giving me your apartment?”
“I’ll give you anything you want if you let me get you out of this dress.”
I shiver when his lips shift to my earlobe and his fingers tease at the zipper of my dress. “Where will you live if this is my apartment now?” I ask.
“I have two other apartments. And a house in Florida. But I’m keeping the key to this place so I can have you whenever I want.”
“You have me tonight,” I whisper. He does. My body feels like warm liquid as he flicks his tongue over my ear.
“I’m going to have you every way I possibly can. Are you ready for that?” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling my neck.
“Keep your apartment. I can’t afford the taxes,” I tell him, leaning back, rubbing my ass against his hard body. I can feel his cock nudging me. He growls in the back of his throat, his grip hardening on my shoulders. “But get me out of this dress now. Please.”
Instantly Nathan has the zipper down and the dress over my shoulders and on the floor at my ankles. I barely have time to blink before he turns me around so I’m facing him.
“Danielle,” he says, gray eyes sweeping over me from head to toe, taking in my black bra and nothing else.
The way he says my full name makes me feel older, more sophisticated than I generally do. When his gaze lingers on the juncture of my thighs, completely bare, I swallow hard, desire settling like a thick wet blanket over me. I fight the urge to squirm as he rubs his jaw and shakes his head slightly.
“Jesus. You’re so fucking gorgeous. Take your bra off for me and show me your pretty tits.”
The words are demanding, rough. I would never have thought that would be my style of seduction but with Nathan it excites me. I find myself arching my back, putting a hand on my hip to give him a better view.
I’m not uncomfortable being naked, but I’m not sure I’ve ever felt the power of my body as much as I do right now standing before him in nothing but my sky high heels. His appreciation is palpable. His eyes are dark with desire and he’s gripping his hands in tight fists, like he’s resisting the urge to touch me.
I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, easing it down over my shoulders. Nathan starts undoing the buttons of his shirt cuffs as he watches me. I remove the bra entirely and spin it on one finger. “What should I do with this?” I ask, a little nervous, more than I’d be with Michael or Crew I think, but mostly turned on to be fully exposed to his gaze.
I desperately want him to tell me what to do. To take the lead. To be demanding. How do I make sure he knows that?
It’s not an issue with Nathan. Demanding and in-charge are as natural for him as breathing. “Look at me while you slowly let your bra drop to the floor. Then leave those fucking shoes on and walk over to the wet bar. Sit on a stool there and wait for me with your legs crossed. I want to be the one who spreads you wide open for my tongue.”
Hell, yes. I shiver and do as he says without hesitation, dropping the bra and walking toward the bar that lines one wall of the living area. I feel his eyes on me, an intense gaze that makes my skin heat. I take a deep breath as I walk in my heels, putting a sway in my hips to showcase my ass for his pleasure.
“What else do you want?” I ask, over my shoulder. I want to hear it all. I want him to say everything out loud and graphically.
“Danielle,” he murmurs, giving a rough and low laugh. “I just want you. Every single sexy inch of you.”
Turning to take a seat on the stool, I take in a view even better than the one through the windows. It’s Nathan shirtless, his bare chest just as enticing as I remember it from the night before in the storage closet. I cross my legs tightly the way he demanded, wanting to run my hands over those rock solid abs and slip my hand down past his waistband. I can see his erection pressed against the fabric of his pants, straining, and my mouth waters.
Once he’s directly in front of me, he kisses me, gently this time, his fingers trailing down over my shoulders, before taking a teasing path over the curves of my breasts, making the smallest hint of contact with my nipples. It makes me ache for more.
“How experienced are you sexually?” he asks, nuzzling into my neck. “Tell me everything. It will help me know how much you can take. Because I want it all, but I want this to be incredible for you.”
Oh, God. That’s such a terrible subject. I wish I could just start from scratch with Nathan.
“Um, I’ve had sex,” I tell him, head lolling back, wanting to give him better access to my skin. “But it’s been a while.” I arch my back as well, to entice him to do more with my nipples than the barely there back and forth rhythmic tease he is doing now. The ache deep inside my pussy is throbbing painfully and I squeeze my thighs even tighter, wanting, needing him to touch me, but sensing not to ask.
Nathan knows how to make this amazing for me and I need to let him.
“How long?”
“Three years.”
He sucks in a quick breath and his head lifts. I look up. He looks even more turned on.
“Have you been with a few men or many men?”
His mouth returns to the front of my throat and he starts kissing down to the swell of my breasts and I blank on how to answer. He flicks his tongue casually over my nipple, like he’s done this a million times before. Like he owns my nipple. Like he owns me.
“What?” I ask. I can’t remember the question. It doesn’t seem as important as what he’s doing to me.
“How many men have fucked you?” he asks. He sucks on one nipple, while rolling the other between his thumb and finger. Then he rubs his beard over my breast as he tugs on the opposite nipple.
I feel like fireworks are exploding from my nipples and sending hot sparks through my body and setting my pussy on fire.
“Danielle,” he prompts firmly, tugging on my nipple again.
Oh, right. Yes, I’ve had sex with other men. Two. Whose names seemed to have been wiped clear from my memory banks.
They weren’t him.
They no longer exist.
The pressure of his fingers squeezing my nipple increases to something almost painful and yet I feel nothing but deep aching pleasure.
“A few. Two. Is two a few or does it have to be three to be considered a few? I guess two is just a couple and three is a few,” I say, chattering on breathlessly, not sure where to place my arms. “But I did only two. Or they did me. Mutual doing?” My hands are fluttering, hovering over him but not touching.
“Did they make you come?”
I shake my head. Of course, I faked it with Brandon because he just got pissed when I tried to talk to him about what he could do differently to make it happen.
His eyes darken and I can tell he loves that answer.
“Do you make yourself come?”
I press my lips together but nod.
“With your fingers, or with toys, or both?”
He’s still playing with my nipples and then stroking his hands down my sides, squeezing my hips, then sliding his hands back up to caress and tease my breasts.
“Both,” I answer, my voice shaky.
“Can you take a thick dildo, Danielle?”
I swallow hard. “Um. Mine’s… average sized?” I don’t really know. “It’s not the biggest in the online catalog if that’s what you’re asking.”
His smile is slow and wicked. “Then we’ll have to be sure you’re very prepared.”
Oh wow. If that means what I think it means…
With his hands firmly on my hips, Nathan lifts me onto the bar while kicking the stool out of the way with one smooth move. He shifts to my knees and spreads my legs without preamble. I gasp at the sudden exposure.
“So pretty,” he murmurs. “All this pink softness, so open and wet just for me.” He strokes over my folds with his thumbs, dragging a low moan from me. “Getting you ready is going to be such a pleasure.”
Nathan bends over and studies me even closer, blowing a warm breath onto my sensitive clit. The bartop is cold beneath my bare ass and my senses feel heightened, my skin flushed. I lean back, palms flat, watching him study me intimately as he massages in teasing circles, approaching my clit but always skirting away at the last second. He puts his mouth on my inner thigh. I feel his tongue and light suction.
I want his mouth on my clit, his fingers buried inside me, but he doesn’t. I’m near begging. He just kisses and licks my inner thigh, strokes and glides his fingertips along my folds endlessly, minute after minute, occasionally pressing a kiss just north of where I want him to.
The ache is unbearable. I shift restlessly, urging my hips forward, trying to force contact. “Nathan. Please.”
“What, love? What do you need?” He sounds casual, like we’re merely holding hands strolling down the street. Not like he’s torturing me endlessly.
“Touch me,” I breathe.
“I am touching you.”
“More.” I lift my hands to grip his head, to force him to grind his mouth down on me, but he catches both of my wrists and pins them to the counter.
“You want more?” he demands, glancing up at me.
I nod, rapidly.
“Do you want my finger or my tongue inside you? Or should I play with your clit?”
“I… I don’t know.” I don’t. Neither of the guys I had sex with in the past did anything like this. I’m not sure they even knew I had a clit. I just know I want something. Or maybe I want everything. I’m flustered and desperate. I’ve never been this close to an orgasm with so little actual contact.
“Damn. No one’s ever worshiped this sweet pussy correctly, have they?” he asks, sliding one finger over my clit again.
I bite my lower lip and shake my head.
“That is unacceptable,” he says, circling the sensitive spot.
It sure freaking is. I let my eyes slide shut, my whole body zinging with sensation.
“Eyes on me, Danielle,” Nathan says firmly.
My eyes flutter open and I look down.
He holds my gaze as he leans in and glides his tongue over my clit, before sucking the tight aching bud gently into his mouth.
I almost leap off of the countertop at the sensation.
His finger fills me, and stretches me, exploring, until he finds the spot that makes me cry out. His tongue flicks over my clit as his finger gives hard thrusts in and out.
Without thinking, my hand flies to his hair, holding on as he licks, sucks, and finger fucks me.
Then he adds a second finger, stretching me further.
“So tight,” he praises. “So perfect. You taste so good. I could stay here for hours.” He licks and sucks again. “When you come, I want to hear my name, Danielle. You cry out for the man who is treating this pretty cunt right for the first time.”
God. Yes. The graphic dirty talk, his fingers, his mouth…they’re all perfect. Exactly what I want. It’s only another minute, at most, before an orgasm hits, my hips bucking as it rips through me without warning.
“Nathan, oh God!” My fingers grip his hair as I press even closer to his mouth as I ride the waves of pleasure. “Nathan!”
“That’s right,” he says, his fingers continuing to move. “That’s my girl.”
The intense sensations slowly start to fade and he slides his fingers out, lifting them to his mouth and sucking them clean as his gaze tracks over me. His gaze lingers on my breasts and between my legs. He looks pleased.
I’m sure I look wanton. My thighs are spread, and I can feel how wet I am. I’m flushed from head to toe, my pale skin hiding nothing, I’m certain. But his look of possessiveness keeps me from feeling even the tiniest bit of shame.
“They’ll know I was here first,” he says, his voice rough.
“What?” I ask, my voice soft since I haven’t fully caught my breath.
He runs a fingertip over a spot on my inner thigh and I look down. There’s a red spot there that I know will turn into a light bruise.
“You gave me a hickey?”
He looks proud as he nods and also runs that fingertip over my breasts. I look down and see the whisker burns on both.
“I marked you. Whoever is here next will know they’re not the first.”
My eyes widen. Wow. “Eventually it will fade.”
He gives me a hot, possessive look. “Don’t tempt me to tattoo you.”
This guy is so over-the-top. And he gets so caught up in moments. He won’t care about any of this tomorrow. But right now… it’s kind of hot. At least according to the way my pussy clenches and the tingles dance over my entire body.
“What’s next?” I ask.
His gaze locks on mine. His hands go to his belt. My heart rate picks up.
“Everything, Danielle,” he says with promise.
