Page 10 of Kingpin

“Wait a second,” I said, stopping him from undoing the whole thing.

His hand wrapped around my wrists, pinning them to the wall. His knee jammed between my legs, forcing them open. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare as anger mounted behind his eyes.

“Never deny me what is rightfully mine,” he growled.

I nodded quickly as his nose dipped to the crook of my neck. They fluttered closed when he drew in my scent, making my toes curl. He was so warm. So commanding. Yet, somehow, so inviting. His danger added to his allure. The care he took with some of his motions exposed a side of him I would have never thought existed. Suddenly, he moved my hands. He crossed them at my wrists and held them with his right hand while his left traveled down my body. He cupped my breast. He massaged it, tweaked it, and grinned while I gasped. My sounds gave away the fact that I wanted nothing more than to be under him.

Don’t cup the other one. Don’t cup the other one. Don’t cup the other one.

His impatience forced his hand downward, and I swallowed my relieved sigh. He parted the silk around my waist, encouraging the sides of my robe to fall fully open. The cool air of his penthouse caressed my skin. I heard him chuckling as his fingers danced along the upper hem of my lacy black panties. I blushed with embarrassment. I felt more on display than I’d ever been in my life.

Before I could think about it, I bucked against him, shoving him away so I could quickly close my robe.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he grumbled.

His hands gripped my hips, and he quickly whipped me around. He pinned me to the wall, my cheek pressed solidly against it. His knee forced itself between my thighs once more as his hand slid around to my stomach. It pulled me away from the wall just enough.

“Israel,” I whispered.

His lips fell to my ear. “Never act impatient if you aren’t ready. Mixed signals aren't a game I play.”

He bit my ear, and I whimpered. His hand cupped my clothed pussy, and searing hot passion filled my veins. No man had ever touched me like that. Hell, no man had ever touched me, period. And yet, all I wanted was more. All I wanted was to feel more of him. To feel filled by him.

To feel his lips against mine.

I ground against his hand, seeking friction I didn’t know I needed. He kissed my shoulder softly as his fingertips slipped beneath my panties. I groaned for more. My eyes rolled back as he tickled my lower lips. He pressed his thickening cock against the top of my ass, making my clit pulse against my swelling pussy folds.

“Ahem.”

I jumped at the sound of the voice, but Israel didn’t let go of me. He merely pushed me further against the wall, his fingertips slowly parting my folds. I struggled to get away. I tried to move my legs. I attempted to wrench my wrists free, but they wouldn't budge.

“Yes?” Israel asked.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir. Mr. Cavallari’s here to see you.”

He swirled his fingertips around my clit, and I swallowed my sounds, thoroughly embarrassed that someone had caught us.

“Israel, please,” I whispered.

He removed his hand before he kissed my bare shoulder once more.

“Upstairs with you. I’ll be there once I’m done. Thirty minutes, tops.”

He smacked my ass so hard it made me yelp, and when I peered down the hallway, I saw his bodyguard grinning at me. Embarrassment flushed my body from head to toe as Israel backed away from me, releasing me from his hold. Tears flooded my eyes as I quickly closed my robe. I hurried down the hallway, trying to get as far away from the situation as I could. I retied that damn bow so quickly around my waist I almost couldn't breathe. As I stumbled up the stairs, I felt him watching me the entire way.

Waiting until I was out of sight.

I ran down the hallway. I tore into his bedroom. I slammed the double doors behind me as silent tears ran down my cheeks. I closed my eyes and tried to gain control over my own emotions. That wasn’t the time to fall apart. The time was almost upon me. The plan was almost done, and afterward, I had a two-month vacation in Bora-Bora waiting for me until the heat of Israel’s death died down.

“Come on. You can do this,” I whispered.

I opened my eyes and rushed into the bathroom. After dabbing at my tears and fixing up my makeup, just a tad, I walked over to the silver tray sitting on the dresser. I opened my robe back up and let it fall over one shoulder. I stood there, ready to serve him champagne. Ready to draw him in with my black-clad curves for one last delicious night of his life.

However, as the minutes ticked on, I never heard his footsteps. He never called my name. He never came searching for me, and he sure as hell never made it back to his bedroom.

I stood there for almost two hours before my legs grew sore. My calves screamed for mercy in my heels. I looked down at my bra cup and saw the glass vial glinting at me in the moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room. After waiting until half past midnight, I resolved myself to a night of rest.

Of falling asleep alone, instead of next to Israel.

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