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With This Ring

Page 73

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“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

With my gaze on the floor I began to shrug off my jacket. He took it from me and draped it across the couch. The huge ceiling to floor windows with their breathtaking view of the city’s skyline in the middle of the night was impressive.

“Beautiful,” I said.

“I’m actually hungry,” he said, holding the door to his refrigerator open. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Uh …”

“Maxim, uh, we both know why I’m here, so I say we just… uh get to it. I have to go home and be up early to go to the office.” Establishing control and power right from the get go. I was doing great.

“Well I’m starving,” he said. “I’ll get to you soon.”

Ouch. I chose not to feel sore about his response, but I did deserve it. Choosing not to care, I went over and sat in front of the counter. I watched as he brought out a plastic bowl of salad and dug a fork into it.

It was quite strange seeing him in this way, so homey and almost human when the rest of the world was used to seeing him more as a walking weapon.

“Do you always eat this late?” I asked.

“I got carried away and forgot to eat. Sure you don’t want some?”

I shook my head and he took his seat opposite me and continued to eat quietly. He ate the way he did everything else. Carefully, purposefully. I couldn’t stop looking at the way he chewed.

We remained that way with him intently watching me as he ate. I was sure that this was some kind of tactic to keep me drooling over him. I was unable to wait for the moment where he would most probably lay me flat across the counter and fuck the living daylights out of me. I wanted that. I craved that. And I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Why are you staring at me?” I asked.

“It’s strange,” he said. “You being here.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” I responded. “And you. You seem so human.”

He snickered in response. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re quite perceived as …” I didn’t know what words to use that wouldn’t show any affection or awe whatsoever. “I guess you’re aloof, and it commands a sort of reverence. Not many people come off that way.”

“It doesn’t seem like I ever commanded any measure of respect from you though.”

“I’ve always hated you,” I said. “I still do.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Well there’s a part of you I just recently discovered that I can tolerate. Why deprive myself?”

He laughed.

My stomach did several flips of excitement. I wanted his mouth on me… his tongue inside of me. And I really, really couldn’t wait any longer.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Freya

I summoned up my courage and pulled my shirt over my head. My breasts beautifully displayed in my favorite lace bra, so when his hand froze in mid-air with his fork on the way to his mouth, I couldn’t help my smile.

I went further. I reached behind me and unhooked my bra and the perky mounds spilled out. I pulled the material away and placed it on top of my shirt on the counter.

He wasn’t smiling anymore, his gaze hot and intense, zeroed in on me like a hawk on its prey.

I rose to my feet. I headed over to the refrigerator and pulled it open to retrieve a bottle of water. I couldn’t face him fully. I wasn’t that confident, but he was quite close to me and I was well aware of his gaze charring the skin off my back.

I took my time drinking the water. Until I heard the stool scrape against the tiled floor as he got off his chair. I waited, my breath bated, as I put the cap back on the bottle. “You have quite a lot of fruit,” I said. “Did you shop for these yourself?”

I felt him behind me, and my skin began to overheat, despite the cool air coming from the open refrigerator in front of me.

His hands slid around my waist, and the bottle fell from my hands.

I couldn’t breathe. He leaned forward, his warm breath against my neck. I leaned into his body, the hardness of his cock pressed solidly against my ass. His hands moved, splayed out against my stomach, and then they went to the button of my jeans. He made short work of unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. He must have a lot of practice. The thought jarred and annoyed me.

His hand moved, slipping down my panties to grab my mound. All the blood left my brain. I moaned aloud as I writhed, breathless with anticipation of all that was coming.

His fingers slipped between the slickness of my folds, teasing and stroking my swollen clit, and my feet nearly left the ground.

“Maxim,” I gasped, my eyes clenched shut at the shock of arousal that flashed through me like a bolt of lightning.



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