Far too personal of a question, but since Conway was famous, people thought they had the right to ask whatever they wanted. It annoyed me, but I was more annoyed that I couldn’t just say yes. “Please excuse me, sir. These heels may look beautiful, but they’re deadly.” I darted past him, and this time, I didn’t slow down. Even when he moved in front of me again, I pretty much sprinted into the bathroom.
And finally found some damn peace and quiet.
Once we were in the back seat of the limo and the doors were shut, I could finally hear myself think. People converged on the sidewalk to watch Conway drive away. The reporters were still there, along with the other fashion icons who wanted another chance to speak with him. His models joined the throng in the lingerie they’d modeled on stage, and they came to the curb to watch him drive away.
Conway immediately relaxed the second the limo pulled away. He didn’t even look out the window to watch his admirers disappear. He stared straight ahead, anxious to move forward.
“You outdid yourself this time, Conway.”
He slowly turned his head toward me. “We’ll know for sure once Nicole gives me the numbers.”
“But I think it’s a safe bet.”
“Probably,” he said quietly.
“And you didn’t need me on that stage.” There may be something about me that people found fascinating, but without his lingerie, I was just a woman. His creative designs spoke for themselves. The models were important, but they weren’t everything.
“But I needed you beside me.” He grabbed my hand and rested it on his strong thigh.
Hand-holding was something we didn’t do until recently. Now, whenever we were in the car, his hand was on mine. Even when we were in public, it was something we did. But never before had he extended that kind of affection. Even when we drove to his house in Verona for the first time and I was terrified after my evening at the Underground, he didn’t console me with affection.
But now, it was a regular aspect of our relationship.
I scooted to his side of the limo and rested my head on his shoulder. My arm encircled his waist, and I closed my eyes as his comfort washed over me. Although he was hard, he was the perfect pillow. He was warm and smelled like the man I slept beside every night.
His arm moved around my shoulders, and he pulled me closer to him. It was three in the morning, and we were both tired from the long night, and jet lag was starting to set in. He brushed his lips against my hairline, his affection blanketing me once more.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the hotel and took the elevator to the top floor. The second we were inside, I kicked off my heels and vowed never to wear them again, at least for such a long period of time. I didn’t care how beautiful they were—they were torture.
I stepped inside our bedroom and let the dress fall into a pile on the floor. It was too beautiful to let wrinkle, so despite my exhaustion, I picked it up and placed it on a hanger.
Conway didn’t feel the same way about his clothes. He dropped his jacket and tie on the floor, and then the rest of his clothes followed suit. Everything except his boxers ended up on the floor before he climbed into bed.
I pulled back the sheets and snuggled beside him, tired from the long night. My face hurt from smiling so much.
The lights were turned off, and we were surrounded by silent darkness.
Conway wrapped his powerful arms around me and cuddled me. Heat burst from his body, keeping me warm and comfortable. My eyes were so heavy that I could barely keep them open. After a while, I stopped fighting the fatigue.
But I knew Conway would want sex—because he always wanted sex.
I forced myself to sit up and maneuver on top of him.
His intense gaze darkened before he rolled me to my backside. “You’re tired.”
“So?”
He separated my thighs with his and held himself on top of me. We were close together, nearly one person. “Then let me do all the work.”
“We always do it like this…” I knew he preferred hard fucking, when he pounded into me from behind. He got off to the sight of my tears, to the confession of my lack of experience. I knew he wanted more, and after having such a successful night, I assumed he would want something like that now.
He pressed his thick crown inside me and slid all the way inside, hitting me until his balls tapped against my ass.
My fingers immediately dug into his arms as I inhaled sharply through my teeth. My pussy had been molded to his cock, but my body could never acclimate to his size quickly enough. He always felt enormous, always stretched me wide apart.