55. Lorelei

55

LORELEI

I wake to a very large, very cold and empty bed.

I don't need to stretch my arm out to confirm what I already know. Kian isn't here.

He was. I remember him wrapping his arm around me. I remember snuggling back into his warmth, where I felt safe.

Everything has felt wrong since I walked into my bedroom and then my bathroom.

Someone invaded my personal space. Someone trashed my bedroom, called me a whore…

There is only one person I can think of who would do that. But why?

I'm not the one who fucked everything up. I wasn't the one lying through my back teeth every single day of our relationship.

But is he capable of something like this?

Yesterday, before walking into my apartment, I'd have said no. Lying is one thing; criminal damage is entirely another. But then, I guess he does have a score to settle after Kian overpowered him. And it's not like I ever really knew who he was. I figured out that much the day I discovered he had a fiancée.

I kick my legs out in frustration. I was hoping that things would feel easier, make more sense in the cold light of day. But right now, I feel just as numb and disconnected as I did last night.

"Argh," I scream, thrashing about in the bed in the hope of banishing what I'm feeling. I stop dead when I feel something weighing down the sheets. My cheeks burn as I consider that I was wrong and that he is here and watching me lose my shit.

Risking it, I crack one eye open, expecting to find Kian staring down at me with an amused expression on his face. But he's not there, and I quickly banish the wave of disappointment I feel.

But while Kian might be absent, I do find a box waiting for me.

It's the same as the box that was waiting for me at The Regency.

I sit up, opening my sore eyes fully, staring at it as if it's nothing more than a figment of my imagination and it's going to disappear any moment.

But it doesn't, and I shuffle closer with my brows drawn together.

Surely, he hasn't chosen a new outfit for me today? The one he bought me in Charleston was nice and all, but he has to know by now that buying me designer clothes isn't the way to my heart. Not that he wants my heart, of course. Just full access to my pussy.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I knock the top of the box off and reach for the tissue paper covering the contents.

The second what's inside is revealed, I gasp, my hand coming up to cover my mouth.

Staring back at me is a whole box of all my favorite hair products.

A sob rips from my throat.

How did he know?

My fingers graze over all the bottles. Some I haven't used for a while; others have been my go-to recently.

Honestly, my curly hair is a fucking nightmare. But at the same time, I love the challenge. And when it goes right and a product just works for me…well, there isn't much else in this world that feels that good.

Unable to stay in here, hidden away from him, I throw the covers off and swing my legs out of bed. After freshening up in his luxurious en suite, I go in search of my boss.

The living area and kitchen are quiet, but the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, letting me know that he isn't too far away.

I search every room I find, learning more about the man who's welcomed me into his home.

I discover old family photos, along with memories from his time at school, and a handful from more recently. Seeing him grow up, seeing some of the things he experienced in his former years, weirdly makes me feel that little bit closer to him.

It's not helpful seeing as I should be pulling away, but I can't help the squeeze of my heart every time I see his smiling face.

A few of the photos are unbelievable. The things he's experienced are so vastly different from what I have. There are photos of him clay pigeon shooting, playing polo, vacationing on lavish yachts and luxury islands.

There were times in my childhood when just escaping the house felt like a vacation. I can't even begin to imagine what it would have been like to live this life.

When I get to the final door at the end of the hallway, I find it ajar.

My heart rate picks up as I press my hand against the dark wood and push.

I don't need to see him sitting behind his huge desk with the Chicago skyline behind him to know he's there. I feel his presence.

Although, it seems that he doesn't feel the same about my arrival because he doesn't so much as flinch or look up from his computer screen. It allows me a few seconds to take him in. He's shirtless, and his hair is a mess. It really is a sight to behold. I'm so used to the put-together, suited version of him that this relaxed side makes me do a second take.

I'm halfway across the room before he looks up.

The smile he gives as his eyes find mine, though...that sure makes up for it.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says, his own voice still a little raspy from sleep.

"Thank you," I whisper, trying to fight the emotion that wants to break free all over again.

"You're welcome. Is it all okay?"

I shake my head, and his confidence wanes.

"Y-yeah, it's perfect. How did you know?"

He taps the side of his nose. "A little birdy told me."

"Tate," I breathe.

"Yeah. Even I can admit when I need help, Temptress."

My brows rise at his confession.

"Come here," he says, pushing his chair back to allow me space to sit on his lap.

"Umm…" I hesitate.

"I need your opinion on this email," he adds as a way of convincing me.

"Kian, we?—"

"Just work, Lorelei. Then you can go and do whatever you do with all those bottles that make your hair so pretty."

"You think my hair is pretty?" I ask, my brain yet to function properly by catching the words before they spill free.

"Lorelei," he sighs. "There isn't an inch of you that isn't pretty. Now get over here and read this," he demands, his "boss" voice flowing back and making tingles run down my spine.

My feet move of their own accord, and I find myself closing the space between us. But I don't lower myself onto his lap. I draw the line there.

Instead, I lean over the desk and scan the email before me.

It's bullshit. Nothing that he needs my opinion on at all. Just Martin keeping him in the loop with something I'm not even aware of.

I'm about to stand back up and tell him that he's wasting my time when he acts.

His hands wrap around my hips, and I'm dragged into the position he wanted me in.

"Kian," I cry, wriggling in his grasp, but his hold is too tight.

"Stop fighting me, Temptress. It'll only get me harder."

I still, swallowing thickly as his words hit their mark.

"How are you feeling?"

I don't respond straight away. Instead, I let his question bounce around my head for a few seconds.

"Confused."

I startle when he laughs, a warm puff of air racing over my shoulder.

A shudder rips through me, and my nipples harden, pressing against the fabric of his sweatshirt.

"You're telling me," he confesses quietly.

"Why's that? It seems like you just got exactly what you wanted."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Doesn't mean I understand it all, though."

There's a beat of silence before he continues.

"You're driving me crazy, Lorelei. This body," he rasps, sliding his hands up my waist. "These tits," he says, cupping them and squeezing just so.

I suck in a sharp breath as desire pools between my thighs.

"Having you here in my home...it's fucking with my already fucked-up head."

"I can leave," I breathe, offering something I'm not sure I'm capable of doing. This apartment should be everything I hate with its expensive, luxurious everything, but I feel weirdly relaxed here. Or maybe it's just him. Maybe it no longer matters what I'm surrounded by, as long as he's there with me.

Fuck.

"No," he says in a rush. There's more he wants to say; I can practically hear the words dancing on the tip of his tongue, but for whatever reason, he swallows them. Finally, he whispers, "Stay. Stay until you're ready to return to your apartment."

My spine straightens. "I'm not scared of some stupid little boy who thinks he can run me out of my own home, Kian,"

"Never said you were. But you're not going back until it's been cleaned."

I want to argue, but his hand skims down my stomach and tucks under the waistband of my sweats.

"Kian." It's meant to be a warning, but it comes out as nothing but a moan.

"Tell me that you don't want me," he taunts as his fingers slip lower.

"I-I—" I swallow any lie that was about to spill from my lips as he connects with my clit. "Oh God."

"I know you do," he rasps. "You want it just as badly as I do. Can you feel how hard I am for you? Been like this all goddamn night. I've barely slept. All I could think about was you. Fuck," he groans, feeling the result of his words against his fingers.

"You need to let your body lead your decisions, babe. It leads you to much more pleasurable outcomes.This…" He rubs me harder, making me moan. "This is what we're meant to be doing. Fuck fighting it. Enjoy it."

He pushes lower, sinking two fingers inside me, and my body gives in, relaxing back against him.

My head settles on his shoulder and my thighs fall open, giving him all the access he needs.

"That's it, good girl."

Leaning forward, I kiss his neck.

He moans as his pulse thunders against my lips.

"Your pussy is so fucking good, Temptress. My dick is desperate for it."

"Kian," I whimper, unable to deny anything at this point.

"Are you going to come over my fingers like a good girl?"

Another needy whimper fills the air.

"Come for me. Then, I'm going to fuck you over this desk so the only thing you're able to think about is me."

That sounds like heaven and hell all rolled into one.

I'm falling under his spell faster than I can control. He knows it, too.

"Do you want that, Temptress? Do you want to feel me stretching you open and fucking you right here for the city to see?"

My stomach and pussy tighten at his words.

"Yes," I whisper, my release looming closer.

"Yes, what?" he demands.

"Yes, Boss. I want you to fuck me over your desk."

"Good girl. But not until I hear you crying my name as you fall apart."

He finger-fucks me faster, his thumb circling my clit with perfect precision, working me higher and higher and hi?—

"KIAN," I scream as pleasure slams into me. My body convulses on top of his as ecstasy seeps through my twitching muscles.

I fall limp against him as he continues working me through it, and the second it's over, his free hand grabs my hair, turning me to him so his lips can claim mine.

His kiss is wild and untamed. We're all tongues and teeth as we devour each other like we haven't been together in years, not merely hours.

"Need you," he breathes against my lips. "Need to be inside you."

Not a second later, I'm on my feet, and just like he promised, Kian is bending me over his desk.

He rips my sweats and panties down. They pool at my ankles before he demands that I kick them off.

I do, eagerly, allowing him to spread my legs wider to give him space.

"Look at you," he muses.

My chest heaves against the unforgiving wooden top of his desk, but my skin burns where his eyes meet.

"Your pussy is calling to me."

"Please," I beg, wiggling my ass in the hope of tempting him back.

"What do you want, Temptress?"

"Your dick."

"Right fucking answer."

He stands, sending the chair he's sitting on shooting out behind him before it crashes into the floor-to-ceiling window. He shifts behind me, and when I glance back, I get to watch the moment he shoves his sweats over his ass, freeing his dick.

My mouth waters as I watch him wrap his fingers around himself and pump a couple of times.

"This what you want?"

I nod, unable to find my voice.

"I need your words, Lorelei."

"Y-yes," I stutter. "I want your dick."

My entire body sings with relief when he finally steps forward and rubs the head of his cock through my folds, coating himself in my juices.

My core clenches around nothing, desperate to feel him stretching me open.

You're not meant to be doing this , a little voice says, but I quickly ignore it. It's easy to do so when I'm on the cusp of pure ecstasy.

"Yes," I cry when he pushes inside me.

"Jesus, Lorelei. This pussy. I'll never get enough of this pussy."

As he praises me, he slowly works himself deeper and deeper, stretching me open for him so he'll be able to fuck me the way he really wants to.

"Kian," I scream the first time he pulls out and quickly thrusts back inside, making my feet lift off the floor.

"Fucking missed this."

"It's barely been a day," I point out breathlessly.

"Too long," he grunts as he thrusts back inside me again.

His grip on my hips is borderline painful, but I don't complain. How can I when he feels so fucking good?

I slide up and down on his desk as he takes me hard and fast.

My heart pounds, my temperature soars, and pleasure saturates my limbs.

My orgasm races forward, leaving my entire body trembling with my need for another release.

"That's it, babe. Come all over my cock. Let me feel you milking me. I'm gonna fill this pussy with?—"

I've no idea what else he says because my release explodes within me and I scream out as I ride out wave after wave of pleasure.

He keeps talking, his deep voice continuing to vibrate through me, keeping my release alive for longer than I thought possible.

I fall limp against the desk as he thrusts twice more before finally reaching his climax.

His dick jerking inside me sends little aftershocks from my lingering release shooting around my body.

I could go again. Shit. I've never been this insatiable before.

He pulls out and takes a step back.

"Damn, Temptress. That is one fucking sight."

I jump when his fingers tickle up my thigh.

"You're wasting it," he muses before plunging his fingers inside me, pushing his cum back inside.

"We're not meant to be fucking, Kian," I point out while his fingers are inside me.

"How's that working out for you?"