I turn her slowly until we’re facing a mirror on the wall. I originally put it up so I could practice my expressions and delivery when I was new to the business. Never had it removed though, because it’s good for certain other occasions. Like now. My hand grips the back of her neck, not hard but firm so she knows I’m ready to move on to something much more enticing and productive than dwelling on my past.
Her eyelids flutter. “Ryder…”
“No more talking.” I lick the gentle line of her neck, then press kisses along the smooth flesh. Her soft curves drive me insane. “You don’t know how much I love your body. I think about it all the time.”
I want to make her forget the crappy evening and what I just told her. Her day should end on a high note, especially the night before our engagement party.
My dick hardens, pushing against her gorgeous ass, at the way her breath turns shallow with need. She moves against me; I push the small jacket off her shoulders and it lands on the floor in a heap. The dark, hot-pink dress underneath is sleeveless and strapless, with nothing but a tiny zipper on the bodice holding it up. She looks like a luscious treat dipped in raspberry syrup.
“Put your hands against the mirror,” I whisper hotly in her ear.
She obeys. I tap her feet gently with mine, and she spreads them. Her calves flex.
I like this position. It seems slightly submissive on her part and gives me easy access to everything. The skirt is loose around her, and it’s perfect. I make a mental note to give Josephine a hefty bonus.
I unbutton my shirt. I want to take it all off and get Paige naked. But I don’t. I know better. The dinner killed my foolish dream from last night and confirmed something that’s been nagging at me all along—that I honestly have nothing to offer to anyone except money and fame. And neither of those is forever. I’ve seen how one of my uncles died broke—shocking, since he inherited millions—and Hollywood is littered with has-beens, once-famous derelicts who nobody recognizes anymore.
Paige is the kind of girl who deserves far more.
She deserves love. She deserves respect. And she deserves to be around people who won’t try to use her to fuck with me. I can’t forget how coolly Dad was assessing her, all evening long…and he wasn’t thinking about whether or not the marriage will be good for us. He was looking for signs of weakness to exploit.
I don’t want to put Paige in the middle of his spiteful little war.
I slowly unzip her dress. As the raw silk parts and reveals her spine, I kiss it inch by inch. Shudders run through her. I bunch the skirt up…and almost have a stroke. The thong is nothing but a string of seed pearls, and suddenly I’m hard enough to crack concrete. I run my hand along the lush curve. Her back arches, silently pushing her ass my way for more.
The bodice falls around her waist and her tits come free. They’re stunning in their perfection. I always knew she had a great rack, but they’re even better naked. I can’t help but reach for them, feel their weight and shape in my hands. Heavy, soft…responsive. Her rosy nipples harden, becoming more pointed.
“Ryder…”
She moves back and forth, rubbing her tits against my callused palms. Her nipples drag across my skin, and she lets out ragged breaths.
And it is not enough.
I pinch and release them, over and over, each successive time harder than before. Instead of protesting she thrusts her breasts into my hands, whimpering with need. Her face is flushed, and I can see the pulse in her neck beating rapidly. I turn her around and pull all that soft, sensitive flesh into my mouth. The tip of my tongue teases her nipple, and her hands plunge into my hair. Her legs shake.
I let the breast out with a pop, letting the edge of my teeth scrape the pointed peak. She groans loudly, then her knees buckle. She leans against the mirror for support, and I give the same loving attention to the other tit.
Her scent intoxicates me, the sound of her moan a drug. I run my nails along her thighs, starting from her knees all the way to the apex. Her juices soak me.
Fuck, that’s hot.
My dick’s so hard it hurts. I want nothing more than to shove it into her juicy depths and lose myself in her. Except I’m self-aware enough to realize this would be a problem.
I want her too much.
Even though I can’t give her anything but money and fame, I still want her. I want the first thing she does in the morning to be smiling at me, soft eyes heavy with sleep, and the last thing at night to be screaming my name as she comes in my arms.
The thing is, she’ll run like hell if she learns all there is to know about me. She knows all the public stuff, of course, and she believes most of it is fake—which is true. But the press knows far less than she realizes, and I have some very ugly secrets.
The woman I wanted before suffered ruination and death. How could I have forgotten that last night? How could I have spun that ridiculous fantasy about a future beyond our contract marriage?
I shrug out of my shirt and toss it in front of me. Paige is a quivering mass of desire now.
“Ryder, please. I want to feel you inside me.”
I let go of her breast. I can’t have her talk like that. It’ll only weaken my already pathetic resolve.
After tearing the pearl strip on the thong, I finger her sopping lips then spread them apart. Her clit’s swollen and flushed, and anticipation boils in my blood. I put my mouth there. I never got a chance to do much in the lawyer’s office, but now we’re private and have plenty of time.