Prince of Secrets - Page 31

Suddenly he grabbed her head and pulled it back, messing up the curls Laura had taken such effort to tame. “You have to stop.”

“No.”

“I’m going to come,” he said fiercely.

“That’s the point,” she whispered back.

He shook his head. “You’re not swallowing your first time. You don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“You’re being bossy again and this is not the bedroom.”

Ignoring her less-than-stern admonition, he pulled her into his lap, maneuvering her so she could continue to touch him. Then he handed her a napkin from the table.

She grinned and almost asked what it was for to tease him, but the light in his eyes had gone feral. And really, she wasn’t looking to get arrested for public indecency, which might well happen if his control slipped his leash completely.

So she finished him with her hand, catching his ejaculate with the napkin and his shout with a passionate kiss.

When he was done, he slumped in the chair, though his hold on her remained tight. “You did that on purpose.”

“To give you pleasure?”

“That, too.”

She snuggled into him. “I’m not giving you an answer tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” She kissed under his chin, a little startled by the reality of his suit and tie still pristinely in place.

“Yes, but that will not stop me taking you back to my condo and showing you what our married life will be like.”

“I’ve got no doubts about the great sex.”

“We will make sure of that by morning.”

“Should I call in at work tomorrow?” She didn’t want to try to do the complicated calculations for their current phase on no sleep.

And the look in his dark eyes said while she might get to know his bed very well, she wasn’t going to be doing a lot of resting there.

“I think perhaps you should.”

She did. In the early hours of the morning after he made love to her through the night in his condo that turned out to be a penthouse taking up the entire top floor of one of the more historic Seattle buildings.

* * *

Demyan woke her with kisses and caresses a few hours later.

Their lovemaking was slow and almost torturous in its intensity. He seemed set on proving something to her, but Chanel wasn’t convinced it was what she needed to know to agree to marry him.

When she was once again sated and relaxed, he informed her he’d called her sister and arranged to invite Chanel’s entire family, including Andrew, whom he was flying up for the weekend in his private jet, for dinner the following evening.

“My parents are coming here?” Postcoital bliss evaporated like water pooled on a rock in the desert as she jumped out of his king-size bed and started pacing the darkly masculine bedroom. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you think you should ask me first?” she demanded.

Looking smug and certain of his answer, he said, “You were asleep.”

“You could have waited until I woke up.”

“I was bored.”

“Right. And you had nothing else to occupy your time but calling my sister. How did you even get her number?” Had he gone snooping through her phone?

He averted his gaze without answering.

She sighed. “You got sneaky and underhanded, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t exactly a challenging conclusion to draw. As if there was any other way to get her sister’s private cell number without waking and asking Chanel.

“The prospect does not make you angry?” he asked with a cautious look.

Nonplussed, she stared at him. “You aren’t worried about how annoyed I am that you made plans with my family, just how irritated I am about your method for getting my sister’s number?”

He shrugged.

“News flash—I find it a lot less upsetting that you scrolled through my phone’s contacts while I was sleeping than the fact you used said contacts to set up a dinner with my family.” She shook her head. “Well, this ought to be interesting.”

With that, she went into the bathroom for a shower. It was her turn to lock the door.

Being the sneaky, underhanded guy he was, Demyan found his way inside regardless. Chanel hadn’t expected anything else.

So she didn’t jump when his hand landed on her hip and his big body added to the heat behind her from the shower. “You told me you wanted me to meet your family.”

“I said my sister,” Chanel gritted out.

The man was far too intelligent not to have made the distinction.

He turned her in his arms, his expression more amused than concerned. “You know I will have to meet all of them eventually. Why not now?”

Tags: Lucy Monroe Billionaire Romance
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