“I’ve never had sex in a car,” she says, as her heels echo on the marble floor. I stop and tip her head up so that we are eye to eye.
“I’m very pleased to hear that. I have to say I’d be very surprised, not to say mad, if you had.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she huffs.
“What did you mean?”
“Christian, it was just an expression.”
“The famous expression, ‘I’ve never had sex in a car.’ Yes, it just trips off the tongue.” And I’m teasing her, she’s so easy to provoke.
“Christian, I wasn’t thinking. For heaven’s sake, you’ve just…um, done that to me in an elevator full of people. My wits are scattered.”
“What did I do to you?”
She purses her lips. “You turned me on, big-time. Now take me home and fuck me.”
I laugh, taken aback. I had no idea she could be quite so crude. “You’re a born romantic, Miss Steele.” I take her hand and we head to the valet, who has the Saab parked up and ready. I give him a large tip and open the passenger door for Ana.
“So you want sex in a car?” I ask, as I switch on the ignition.
“Quite frankly, I would have been happy with the lobby floor.”
“Trust me, Ana, so would I. But I don’t enjoy being arrested at this time of night, and I didn’t want to fuck you in a restroom. Well, not today.”
“You mean there was a possibility?”
“Oh yes.”
“Let’s go back.”
I turn to look at her earnest expression. She’s so unexpected sometimes. I start to laugh, and soon we are both laughing. It’s cathartic after the build-up of sexual tension. I place a hand on her knee, caressing her and she stops laughing and looks at me with large, dark eyes.
I could fall into them and never come back. She’s so beautiful.
“Patience, Anastasia,” I whisper and we move off, heading up Fifth Avenue.
She’s silent but restless as we drive back but she gives me the occasional come-hither look through her dark lashes.
I know that look.
Yes. Ana. I want you, too.
In every way…Please say yes.
The Saab glides into a parking space in Escala’s garage. I switch off the engine, thinking about her wish for sex in a car. I have to admit it’s not something I’ve done, either. She’s biting her lip, her expression…wanton.
Groin-tighteningly wanton.
Gently, I release her lip with my fingers. I love that she wants me as much as I want her. “We will fuck in the car at a time and place of my choosing,” I whisper. “Right now, I want to take you on every available surface of my apartment.”
“Yes,” she says, even though it’s not a question. I lean toward her and she closes her eyes and puckers her lips, offering me a kiss. Her cheeks are slightly flushed.
I take a quick look around the car.
We could.
No.
She opens her eyes, waiting impatiently.
“If I kiss you now, we won’t make it into the apartment. Come.” Resisting the urge to jump her, I climb out of the car, and together we wait for the elevator.
I hold her hand, stroking her knuckles with my thumb. Setting up a rhythm that I hope to repeat with my dick in a few minutes.
“So, what happened to instant gratification?” she asks.
“It’s not appropriate in every situation, Anastasia.”
“Since when?”
“Since this evening.”
“Why are you torturing me so?”
“Tit for tat, Miss Steele.”
“How am I torturing you?”
“I think you know.”
And I watch as realization dawns on her face.
Yes, baby.
I love you. And I want you to be my wife.
But you won’t tell me your answer.
“I’m into delayed gratification, too,” she whispers, and gives me a shy smile.
She is torturing me!
I tug her hand and pull her into my arms, and my fingers wrap around her nape and I angle her head so I can look into her eyes. “What can I do to make you say yes?” I beg her.
“Give me some time, please,” she says. I groan and my lips are on hers, my tongue seeking hers. The elevator doors open and we shuffle in, maintaining our embrace. And she’s lit from within. Her hands are on me. Everywhere. In my hair. Around my face. On my ass. And she’s kissing me back with such passion.
I burn for her.
Pushing her against the wall, reveling in the fervor of her kiss, I pin her with my hips and my erection. I have one hand in her hair and one on her chin.
“You own me,” I whisper against her mouth. “My fate is in your hands, Ana.”
She pushes my jacket off my shoulders and the elevator stops and opens and we are in the foyer. I notice that the usual flowers are missing from the foyer table.
Fucking A.
Foyer table, surface number one!
I press Ana against the wall and she finishes the job and pushes my jacket off me onto the floor. My hand runs up her thigh, taking the hem of her dress with it while we kiss. I boost her skirt higher.